diff --git a/Dockerfile b/Dockerfile index 5feb58d..bb50e8d 100644 --- a/Dockerfile +++ b/Dockerfile @@ -28,5 +28,8 @@ COPY --from=build /go/bin/app /app/himbot # Copy migrations directory COPY --from=build /app/migrations /app/migrations +# Copy datasets directory +COPY --from=build /app/datasets /app/datasets + # Set the entrypoint ENTRYPOINT ["/app/himbot"] diff --git a/cmd/train/main.go b/cmd/train/main.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55e7e59 --- /dev/null +++ b/cmd/train/main.go @@ -0,0 +1,66 @@ +package main + +import ( + "encoding/gob" + "flag" + "himbot/lib" + "log" + "os" + "path/filepath" + "strings" +) + +func main() { + inputDir := flag.String("input", "datasets/bard", "Directory containing text files to train on") + outputFile := flag.String("output", "datasets/bard.gob", "Output file path for the pre-trained model") + order := flag.Int("order", 3, "Markov chain order (N-gram size)") + flag.Parse() + + log.Printf("Scanning directory: %s", *inputDir) + + var allLines []string + fileCount := 0 + + err := filepath.Walk(*inputDir, func(path string, info os.FileInfo, err error) error { + if err != nil { + return err + } + if !info.IsDir() && strings.HasSuffix(info.Name(), ".txt") { + content, err := os.ReadFile(path) + if err != nil { + log.Printf("Error reading file %s: %v", path, err) + return nil // Continue to next file + } + lines := strings.Split(string(content), "\n") + allLines = append(allLines, lines...) + fileCount++ + if fileCount%5 == 0 { + log.Printf("Processed %d files...", fileCount) + } + } + return nil + }) + + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("Error walking directory: %v", err) + } + + log.Printf("Found %d files with %d total lines. Building Markov chain...", fileCount, len(allLines)) + + chain := lib.BuildMarkovChain(allLines, *order) + + log.Printf("Chain built with %d start keys. Saving to %s...", len(chain.Starts), *outputFile) + + f, err := os.Create(*outputFile) + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("Failed to create output file: %v", err) + } + defer f.Close() + + encoder := gob.NewEncoder(f) + if err := encoder.Encode(chain); err != nil { + log.Fatalf("Failed to encode chain: %v", err) + } + + log.Println("Done!") +} diff --git a/command/markov.go b/command/markov.go index 7a645ba..2e5e817 100644 --- a/command/markov.go +++ b/command/markov.go @@ -2,73 +2,69 @@ package command import ( "crypto/md5" + "encoding/gob" "fmt" "himbot/lib" - "math/rand" - "regexp" + "os" "strings" "sync" - "time" "github.com/bwmarrin/discordgo" ) -type MarkovData struct { - Chain map[string][]string // "word1 word2" -> ["word3", ...] - Starts []string -} - type MarkovCache struct { - data map[string]*MarkovData + data map[string]*lib.MarkovData hashes map[string]string mu sync.RWMutex } var ( markovCache = &MarkovCache{ - data: make(map[string]*MarkovData), + data: make(map[string]*lib.MarkovData), hashes: make(map[string]string), } - urlRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`https?://[^\s]+`) - mentionRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`<[@#&!][^>]+>`) + bardChain *lib.MarkovData ) -func MarkovCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) (string, error) { - channelID := i.ChannelID - - numMessages := lib.AppConfig.MarkovDefaultMessages - if len(i.ApplicationCommandData().Options) > 0 { - if i.ApplicationCommandData().Options[0].Name == "messages" { - numMessages = int(i.ApplicationCommandData().Options[0].IntValue()) - if numMessages <= 0 { - numMessages = lib.AppConfig.MarkovDefaultMessages - } else if numMessages > lib.AppConfig.MarkovMaxMessages { - numMessages = lib.AppConfig.MarkovMaxMessages - } - } - } - - cacheKey := fmt.Sprintf("%s:%d", channelID, numMessages) - if data := getCachedChain(cacheKey); data != nil { - if msg := generateMessage(data, ""); msg != "" { - return msg, nil - } - } - - allMessages, err := fetchMessages(s, channelID, numMessages) +func InitBard(modelPath string) error { + f, err := os.Open(modelPath) if err != nil { - return "", err + return err + } + defer f.Close() + + var data lib.MarkovData + decoder := gob.NewDecoder(f) + if err := decoder.Decode(&data); err != nil { + return err } - data := buildMarkovChain(allMessages) - setCachedChain(cacheKey, data, allMessages) + bardChain = &data + return nil +} - newMessage := generateMessage(data, "") - if newMessage == "" { - newMessage = "Not enough text data to generate a message." +func BardCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) (string, error) { + if bardChain == nil { + return "The bard is sleeping (dataset not loaded).", nil } - return newMessage, nil + var question string + for _, option := range i.ApplicationCommandData().Options { + if option.Name == "question" { + question = option.StringValue() + } + } + + answer := lib.GenerateMessage(bardChain, question) + if answer == "" { + answer = "Words fail me." + } + + if question != "" { + return fmt.Sprintf("**Q:** %s\n**A:** %s", question, answer), nil + } + + return answer, nil } func MarkovQuestionCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) (string, error) { @@ -95,7 +91,7 @@ func MarkovQuestionCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) } cacheKey := fmt.Sprintf("%s:%d", channelID, numMessages) - var data *MarkovData + var data *lib.MarkovData if cachedData := getCachedChain(cacheKey); cachedData != nil { data = cachedData @@ -104,11 +100,18 @@ func MarkovQuestionCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) if err != nil { return "", err } - data = buildMarkovChain(allMessages) - setCachedChain(cacheKey, data, allMessages) + + var texts []string + for _, msg := range allMessages { + texts = append(texts, msg.Content) + } + + // Use order 2 for chat history (sparse data) + data = lib.BuildMarkovChain(texts, 2) + setCachedChain(cacheKey, data, hashMessages(allMessages)) } - answer := generateMessage(data, question) + answer := lib.GenerateMessage(data, question) if answer == "" { answer = "I don't have enough context to answer that." } @@ -116,15 +119,13 @@ func MarkovQuestionCommand(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate) return fmt.Sprintf("**Q:** %s\n**A:** %s", question, answer), nil } -func getCachedChain(cacheKey string) *MarkovData { +func getCachedChain(cacheKey string) *lib.MarkovData { markovCache.mu.RLock() defer markovCache.mu.RUnlock() return markovCache.data[cacheKey] } -func setCachedChain(cacheKey string, data *MarkovData, messages []*discordgo.Message) { - hash := hashMessages(messages) - +func setCachedChain(cacheKey string, data *lib.MarkovData, hash string) { markovCache.mu.Lock() defer markovCache.mu.Unlock() @@ -186,106 +187,3 @@ func fetchMessages(s *discordgo.Session, channelID string, numMessages int) ([]* return allMessages, nil } - -func cleanText(text string) string { - text = urlRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") - text = mentionRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") - return strings.Join(strings.Fields(text), " ") -} - -func buildMarkovChain(messages []*discordgo.Message) *MarkovData { - data := &MarkovData{ - Chain: make(map[string][]string), - Starts: make([]string, 0), - } - - for _, msg := range messages { - cleaned := cleanText(msg.Content) - if cleaned == "" { - continue - } - - words := strings.Fields(cleaned) - if len(words) < 3 { - continue - } - - startKey := key(words[0], words[1]) - data.Starts = append(data.Starts, startKey) - - for i := 0; i < len(words)-2; i++ { - k := key(words[i], words[i+1]) - val := words[i+2] - data.Chain[k] = append(data.Chain[k], val) - } - } - - return data -} - -func generateMessage(data *MarkovData, seed string) string { - if len(data.Starts) == 0 { - return "" - } - - var w1, w2 string - var currentKey string - - // Try to seed based on input question - if seed != "" { - seedWords := strings.Fields(cleanText(seed)) - var candidates []string - - for k := range data.Chain { - for _, sw := range seedWords { - if len(sw) > 3 && strings.Contains(strings.ToLower(k), strings.ToLower(sw)) { - candidates = append(candidates, k) - } - } - } - - if len(candidates) > 0 { - currentKey = candidates[rand.Intn(len(candidates))] - } - } - - if currentKey == "" { - currentKey = data.Starts[rand.Intn(len(data.Starts))] - } - - parts := strings.Split(currentKey, " ") - w1, w2 = parts[0], parts[1] - - output := []string{w1, w2} - - for i := 0; i < 40; i++ { - nextOptions, exists := data.Chain[currentKey] - if !exists || len(nextOptions) == 0 { - break - } - - nextWord := nextOptions[rand.Intn(len(nextOptions))] - output = append(output, nextWord) - - w1 = w2 - w2 = nextWord - currentKey = key(w1, w2) - - // Soft stop on punctuation - if i > 5 && strings.ContainsAny(nextWord, ".!?") { - if rand.Float32() > 0.3 { - break - } - } - } - - return strings.Join(output, " ") -} - -func key(w1, w2 string) string { - return w1 + " " + w2 -} - -func init() { - rand.Seed(time.Now().UnixNano()) -} diff --git a/datasets/bard.gob b/datasets/bard.gob new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cedaae Binary files /dev/null and b/datasets/bard.gob differ diff --git a/datasets/bard/a-midsummer-nights-dream_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/a-midsummer-nights-dream_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9461dfd --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/a-midsummer-nights-dream_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3341 @@ +A Midsummer Night's Dream +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/a-midsummer-nights-dream/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +Four lovers: + HERMIA + LYSANDER + HELENA + DEMETRIUS +THESEUS, duke of Athens +HIPPOLYTA, queen of the Amazons +EGEUS, father to Hermia +PHILOSTRATE, master of the revels to Theseus +NICK BOTTOM, weaver +PETER QUINCE, carpenter +FRANCIS FLUTE, bellows-mender +TOM SNOUT, tinker +SNUG, joiner +ROBIN STARVELING, tailor +OBERON, king of the Fairies +TITANIA, queen of the Fairies +ROBIN GOODFELLOW, a "puck," or hobgoblin, in Oberon's service +A FAIRY, in the service of Titania +Fairies attending upon Titania: + PEASEBLOSSOM + COBWEB + MOTE + MUSTARDSEED +Lords and Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta +Other Fairies in the trains of Titania and Oberon + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate, with others.] + + +THESEUS +Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour +Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in +Another moon. But, O, methinks how slow +This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires +Like to a stepdame or a dowager +Long withering out a young man's revenue. + +HIPPOLYTA +Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; +Four nights will quickly dream away the time; +And then the moon, like to a silver bow +New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night +Of our solemnities. + +THESEUS Go, Philostrate, +Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments. +Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth. +Turn melancholy forth to funerals; +The pale companion is not for our pomp. +[Philostrate exits.] +Hippolyta, I wooed thee with my sword +And won thy love doing thee injuries, +But I will wed thee in another key, +With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling. + +[Enter Egeus and his daughter Hermia, and Lysander + and Demetrius.] + + +EGEUS +Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke! + +THESEUS +Thanks, good Egeus. What's the news with thee? + +EGEUS +Full of vexation come I, with complaint +Against my child, my daughter Hermia.-- +Stand forth, Demetrius.--My noble lord, +This man hath my consent to marry her.-- +Stand forth, Lysander.--And, my gracious duke, +This man hath bewitched the bosom of my child.-- +Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes +And interchanged love tokens with my child. +Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung +With feigning voice verses of feigning love +And stol'n the impression of her fantasy +With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits, +Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats--messengers +Of strong prevailment in unhardened youth. +With cunning hast thou filched my daughter's heart, +Turned her obedience (which is due to me) +To stubborn harshness.--And, my gracious duke, +Be it so she will not here before your Grace +Consent to marry with Demetrius, +I beg the ancient privilege of Athens: +As she is mine, I may dispose of her, +Which shall be either to this gentleman +Or to her death, according to our law +Immediately provided in that case. + +THESEUS +What say you, Hermia? Be advised, fair maid. +To you, your father should be as a god, +One that composed your beauties, yea, and one +To whom you are but as a form in wax +By him imprinted, and within his power +To leave the figure or disfigure it. +Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. + +HERMIA +So is Lysander. + +THESEUS In himself he is, +But in this kind, wanting your father's voice, +The other must be held the worthier. + +HERMIA +I would my father looked but with my eyes. + +THESEUS +Rather your eyes must with his judgment look. + +HERMIA +I do entreat your Grace to pardon me. +I know not by what power I am made bold, +Nor how it may concern my modesty +In such a presence here to plead my thoughts; +But I beseech your Grace that I may know +The worst that may befall me in this case +If I refuse to wed Demetrius. + +THESEUS +Either to die the death or to abjure +Forever the society of men. +Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, +Know of your youth, examine well your blood, +Whether (if you yield not to your father's choice) +You can endure the livery of a nun, +For aye to be in shady cloister mewed, +To live a barren sister all your life, +Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. +Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood +To undergo such maiden pilgrimage, +But earthlier happy is the rose distilled +Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, +Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. + +HERMIA +So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, +Ere I will yield my virgin patent up +Unto his Lordship whose unwished yoke +My soul consents not to give sovereignty. + +THESEUS +Take time to pause, and by the next new moon +(The sealing day betwixt my love and me +For everlasting bond of fellowship), +Upon that day either prepare to die +For disobedience to your father's will, +Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would, +Or on Diana's altar to protest +For aye austerity and single life. + +DEMETRIUS +Relent, sweet Hermia, and, Lysander, yield +Thy crazed title to my certain right. + +LYSANDER +You have her father's love, Demetrius. +Let me have Hermia's. Do you marry him. + +EGEUS +Scornful Lysander, true, he hath my love; +And what is mine my love shall render him. +And she is mine, and all my right of her +I do estate unto Demetrius. + +LYSANDER, [to Theseus] +I am, my lord, as well derived as he, +As well possessed. My love is more than his; +My fortunes every way as fairly ranked +(If not with vantage) as Demetrius'; +And (which is more than all these boasts can be) +I am beloved of beauteous Hermia. +Why should not I then prosecute my right? +Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head, +Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena, +And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes, +Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry, +Upon this spotted and inconstant man. + +THESEUS +I must confess that I have heard so much, +And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof; +But, being overfull of self-affairs, +My mind did lose it.--But, Demetrius, come, +And come, Egeus; you shall go with me. +I have some private schooling for you both.-- +For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself +To fit your fancies to your father's will, +Or else the law of Athens yields you up +(Which by no means we may extenuate) +To death or to a vow of single life.-- +Come, my Hippolyta. What cheer, my love?-- +Demetrius and Egeus, go along. +I must employ you in some business +Against our nuptial and confer with you +Of something nearly that concerns yourselves. + +EGEUS +With duty and desire we follow you. +[All but Hermia and Lysander exit.] + +LYSANDER +How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? +How chance the roses there do fade so fast? + +HERMIA +Belike for want of rain, which I could well +Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes. + +LYSANDER +Ay me! For aught that I could ever read, +Could ever hear by tale or history, +The course of true love never did run smooth. +But either it was different in blood-- + +HERMIA +O cross! Too high to be enthralled to low. + +LYSANDER +Or else misgraffed in respect of years-- + +HERMIA +O spite! Too old to be engaged to young. + +LYSANDER +Or else it stood upon the choice of friends-- + +HERMIA +O hell, to choose love by another's eyes! + +LYSANDER +Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, +War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, +Making it momentany as a sound, +Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, +Brief as the lightning in the collied night, +That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and Earth, +And, ere a man hath power to say "Behold!" +The jaws of darkness do devour it up. +So quick bright things come to confusion. + +HERMIA +If then true lovers have been ever crossed, +It stands as an edict in destiny. +Then let us teach our trial patience +Because it is a customary cross, +As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, +Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers. + +LYSANDER +A good persuasion. Therefore, hear me, Hermia: +I have a widow aunt, a dowager +Of great revenue, and she hath no child. +From Athens is her house remote seven leagues, +And she respects me as her only son. +There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee; +And to that place the sharp Athenian law +Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me, then +Steal forth thy father's house tomorrow night, +And in the wood a league without the town +(Where I did meet thee once with Helena +To do observance to a morn of May), +There will I stay for thee. + +HERMIA My good Lysander, +I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow, +By his best arrow with the golden head, +By the simplicity of Venus' doves, +By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, +And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen +When the false Trojan under sail was seen, +By all the vows that ever men have broke +(In number more than ever women spoke), +In that same place thou hast appointed me, +Tomorrow truly will I meet with thee. + +LYSANDER +Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena. + +[Enter Helena.] + + +HERMIA +Godspeed, fair Helena. Whither away? + +HELENA +Call you me "fair"? That "fair" again unsay. +Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair! +Your eyes are lodestars and your tongue's sweet air +More tunable than lark to shepherd's ear +When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. +Sickness is catching. O, were favor so! +Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go. +My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye; +My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet +melody. +Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, +The rest I'd give to be to you translated. +O, teach me how you look and with what art +You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart! + +HERMIA +I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. + +HELENA +O, that your frowns would teach my smiles such +skill! + +HERMIA +I give him curses, yet he gives me love. + +HELENA +O, that my prayers could such affection move! + +HERMIA +The more I hate, the more he follows me. + +HELENA +The more I love, the more he hateth me. + +HERMIA +His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine. + +HELENA +None but your beauty. Would that fault were mine! + +HERMIA +Take comfort: he no more shall see my face. +Lysander and myself will fly this place. +Before the time I did Lysander see +Seemed Athens as a paradise to me. +O, then, what graces in my love do dwell +That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell! + +LYSANDER +Helen, to you our minds we will unfold. +Tomorrow night when Phoebe doth behold +Her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, +Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass +(A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal), +Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal. + +HERMIA +And in the wood where often you and I +Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lie, +Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet, +There my Lysander and myself shall meet +And thence from Athens turn away our eyes +To seek new friends and stranger companies. +Farewell, sweet playfellow. Pray thou for us, +And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius.-- +Keep word, Lysander. We must starve our sight +From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight. + +LYSANDER +I will, my Hermia. [Hermia exits.] +Helena, adieu. +As you on him, Demetrius dote on you! +[Lysander exits.] + +HELENA +How happy some o'er other some can be! +Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. +But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so. +He will not know what all but he do know. +And, as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, +So I, admiring of his qualities. +Things base and vile, holding no quantity, +Love can transpose to form and dignity. +Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind; +And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. +Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste. +Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste. +And therefore is Love said to be a child +Because in choice he is so oft beguiled. +As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, +So the boy Love is perjured everywhere. +For, ere Demetrius looked on Hermia's eyne, +He hailed down oaths that he was only mine; +And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, +So he dissolved, and show'rs of oaths did melt. +I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight. +Then to the wood will he tomorrow night +Pursue her. And, for this intelligence +If I have thanks, it is a dear expense. +But herein mean I to enrich my pain, +To have his sight thither and back again. +[She exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Quince the carpenter, and Snug the joiner, and +Bottom the weaver, and Flute the bellows-mender, and +Snout the tinker, and Starveling the tailor.] + + +QUINCE Is all our company here? + +BOTTOM You were best to call them generally, man by +man, according to the scrip. + +QUINCE Here is the scroll of every man's name which +is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our +interlude before the Duke and the Duchess on his +wedding day at night. + +BOTTOM First, good Peter Quince, say what the play +treats on, then read the names of the actors, and so +grow to a point. + +QUINCE Marry, our play is "The most lamentable +comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and +Thisbe." + +BOTTOM A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a +merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your +actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves. + +QUINCE Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. + +BOTTOM Ready. Name what part I am for, and +proceed. + +QUINCE You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus. + +BOTTOM What is Pyramus--a lover or a tyrant? + +QUINCE A lover that kills himself most gallant for love. + +BOTTOM That will ask some tears in the true performing +of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their +eyes. I will move storms; I will condole in some +measure. To the rest.--Yet my chief humor is for a +tyrant. I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a +cat in, to make all split: + + The raging rocks + And shivering shocks + Shall break the locks + Of prison gates. + And Phibbus' car + Shall shine from far + And make and mar + The foolish Fates. + +This was lofty. Now name the rest of the players. +This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein. A lover is more +condoling. + +QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. + +FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. + +QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisbe on you. + +FLUTE What is Thisbe--a wand'ring knight? + +QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. + +FLUTE Nay, faith, let not me play a woman. I have a +beard coming. + +QUINCE That's all one. You shall play it in a mask, and +you may speak as small as you will. + +BOTTOM An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too. +I'll speak in a monstrous little voice: "Thisne, +Thisne!"--"Ah Pyramus, my lover dear! Thy Thisbe +dear and lady dear!" + +QUINCE No, no, you must play Pyramus--and, Flute, +you Thisbe. + +BOTTOM Well, proceed. + +QUINCE Robin Starveling, the tailor. + +STARVELING Here, Peter Quince. + +QUINCE Robin Starveling, you must play Thisbe's +mother.--Tom Snout, the tinker. + +SNOUT Here, Peter Quince. + +QUINCE You, Pyramus' father.--Myself, Thisbe's +father.--Snug the joiner, you the lion's part.-- +And I hope here is a play fitted. + +SNUG Have you the lion's part written? Pray you, if it +be, give it me, for I am slow of study. + +QUINCE You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but +roaring. + +BOTTOM Let me play the lion too. I will roar that I will +do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar that +I will make the Duke say "Let him roar again. Let +him roar again!" + +QUINCE An you should do it too terribly, you would +fright the Duchess and the ladies that they would +shriek, and that were enough to hang us all. + +ALL That would hang us, every mother's son. + +BOTTOM I grant you, friends, if you should fright the +ladies out of their wits, they would have no more +discretion but to hang us. But I will aggravate my +voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking +dove. I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. + +QUINCE You can play no part but Pyramus, for Pyramus +is a sweet-faced man, a proper man as one +shall see in a summer's day, a most lovely gentlemanlike +man. Therefore you must needs play +Pyramus. + +BOTTOM Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I +best to play it in? + +QUINCE Why, what you will. + +BOTTOM I will discharge it in either your straw-color +beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain +beard, or your French-crown-color beard, +your perfit yellow. + +QUINCE Some of your French crowns have no hair at +all, and then you will play barefaced. But, masters, +here are your parts, [giving out the parts,] and I am +to entreat you, request you, and desire you to con +them by tomorrow night and meet me in the palace +wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight. There +will we rehearse, for if we meet in the city, we shall +be dogged with company and our devices known. In +the meantime I will draw a bill of properties such as +our play wants. I pray you fail me not. + +BOTTOM We will meet, and there we may rehearse +most obscenely and courageously. Take pains. Be +perfit. Adieu. + +QUINCE At the Duke's Oak we meet. + +BOTTOM Enough. Hold or cut bowstrings. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a Fairy at one door and Robin Goodfellow at +another.] + + +ROBIN +How now, spirit? Whither wander you? + +FAIRY + Over hill, over dale, + Thorough bush, thorough brier, + Over park, over pale, + Thorough flood, thorough fire; + I do wander everywhere, + Swifter than the moon's sphere. + And I serve the Fairy Queen, + To dew her orbs upon the green. + The cowslips tall her pensioners be; + In their gold coats spots you see; + Those be rubies, fairy favors; + In those freckles live their savors. +I must go seek some dewdrops here +And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. +Farewell, thou lob of spirits. I'll be gone. +Our queen and all her elves come here anon. + +ROBIN +The King doth keep his revels here tonight. +Take heed the Queen come not within his sight, +For Oberon is passing fell and wrath +Because that she, as her attendant, hath +A lovely boy stolen from an Indian king; +She never had so sweet a changeling. +And jealous Oberon would have the child +Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. +But she perforce withholds the loved boy, +Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her +joy. +And now they never meet in grove or green, +By fountain clear or spangled starlight sheen, +But they do square, that all their elves for fear +Creep into acorn cups and hide them there. + +FAIRY +Either I mistake your shape and making quite, +Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite +Called Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he +That frights the maidens of the villagery, +Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern +And bootless make the breathless huswife churn, +And sometime make the drink to bear no barm, +Mislead night wanderers, laughing at their harm? +Those that "Hobgoblin" call you and "sweet Puck," +You do their work, and they shall have good luck. +Are not you he? + +ROBIN Thou speakest aright. +I am that merry wanderer of the night. +I jest to Oberon and make him smile +When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, +Neighing in likeness of a filly foal. +And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl +In very likeness of a roasted crab, +And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob +And on her withered dewlap pour the ale. +The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, +Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; +Then slip I from her bum, down topples she +And "Tailor!" cries and falls into a cough, +And then the whole choir hold their hips and loffe +And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear +A merrier hour was never wasted there. +But room, fairy. Here comes Oberon. + +FAIRY +And here my mistress. Would that he were gone! + +[Enter Oberon the King of Fairies at one door, with his +train, and Titania the Queen at another, with hers.] + + +OBERON +Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. + +TITANIA +What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence. +I have forsworn his bed and company. + +OBERON +Tarry, rash wanton. Am not I thy lord? + +TITANIA +Then I must be thy lady. But I know +When thou hast stolen away from Fairyland +And in the shape of Corin sat all day +Playing on pipes of corn and versing love +To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, +Come from the farthest steep of India, +But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, +Your buskined mistress and your warrior love, +To Theseus must be wedded, and you come +To give their bed joy and prosperity? + +OBERON +How canst thou thus for shame, Titania, +Glance at my credit with Hippolyta, +Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? +Didst not thou lead him through the glimmering +night +From Perigouna, whom he ravished, +And make him with fair Aegles break his faith, +With Ariadne and Antiopa? + +TITANIA +These are the forgeries of jealousy; +And never, since the middle summer's spring, +Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, +By paved fountain or by rushy brook, +Or in the beached margent of the sea, +To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, +But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport. +Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, +As in revenge have sucked up from the sea +Contagious fogs, which, falling in the land, +Hath every pelting river made so proud +That they have overborne their continents. +The ox hath therefore stretched his yoke in vain, +The plowman lost his sweat, and the green corn +Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard. +The fold stands empty in the drowned field, +And crows are fatted with the murrain flock. +The nine-men's-morris is filled up with mud, +And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, +For lack of tread, are undistinguishable. +The human mortals want their winter here. +No night is now with hymn or carol blessed. +Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, +Pale in her anger, washes all the air, +That rheumatic diseases do abound. +And thorough this distemperature we see +The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts +Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, +And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown +An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds +Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, +The childing autumn, angry winter, change +Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world +By their increase now knows not which is which. +And this same progeny of evils comes +From our debate, from our dissension; +We are their parents and original. + +OBERON +Do you amend it, then. It lies in you. +Why should Titania cross her Oberon? +I do but beg a little changeling boy +To be my henchman. + +TITANIA Set your heart at rest: +The Fairyland buys not the child of me. +His mother was a vot'ress of my order, +And in the spiced Indian air by night +Full often hath she gossiped by my side +And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, +Marking th' embarked traders on the flood, +When we have laughed to see the sails conceive +And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; +Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait, +Following (her womb then rich with my young +squire), +Would imitate and sail upon the land +To fetch me trifles and return again, +As from a voyage, rich with merchandise. +But she, being mortal, of that boy did die, +And for her sake do I rear up her boy, +And for her sake I will not part with him. + +OBERON +How long within this wood intend you stay? + +TITANIA +Perchance till after Theseus' wedding day. +If you will patiently dance in our round +And see our moonlight revels, go with us. +If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts. + +OBERON +Give me that boy and I will go with thee. + +TITANIA +Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away. +We shall chide downright if I longer stay. +[Titania and her fairies exit.] + +OBERON +Well, go thy way. Thou shalt not from this grove +Till I torment thee for this injury.-- +My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememb'rest +Since once I sat upon a promontory +And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back +Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath +That the rude sea grew civil at her song +And certain stars shot madly from their spheres +To hear the sea-maid's music. + +ROBIN I remember. + +OBERON +That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), +Flying between the cold moon and the Earth, +Cupid all armed. A certain aim he took +At a fair vestal throned by the west, +And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow +As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. +But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft +Quenched in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon, +And the imperial vot'ress passed on +In maiden meditation, fancy-free. +Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell. +It fell upon a little western flower, +Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound, +And maidens call it "love-in-idleness." +Fetch me that flower; the herb I showed thee once. +The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid +Will make or man or woman madly dote +Upon the next live creature that it sees. +Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again +Ere the leviathan can swim a league. + +ROBIN +I'll put a girdle round about the Earth +In forty minutes. [He exits.] + +OBERON Having once this juice, +I'll watch Titania when she is asleep +And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. +The next thing then she, waking, looks upon +(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, +On meddling monkey, or on busy ape) +She shall pursue it with the soul of love. +And ere I take this charm from off her sight +(As I can take it with another herb), +I'll make her render up her page to me. +But who comes here? I am invisible, +And I will overhear their conference. + +[Enter Demetrius, Helena following him.] + + +DEMETRIUS +I love thee not; therefore pursue me not. +Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? +The one I'll stay; the other stayeth me. +Thou told'st me they were stol'n unto this wood, +And here am I, and wood within this wood +Because I cannot meet my Hermia. +Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. + +HELENA +You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant! +But yet you draw not iron, for my heart +Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw, +And I shall have no power to follow you. + +DEMETRIUS +Do I entice you? Do I speak you fair? +Or rather do I not in plainest truth +Tell you I do not, nor I cannot love you? + +HELENA +And even for that do I love you the more. +I am your spaniel, and, Demetrius, +The more you beat me I will fawn on you. +Use me but as your spaniel: spurn me, strike me, +Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave +(Unworthy as I am) to follow you. +What worser place can I beg in your love +(And yet a place of high respect with me) +Than to be used as you use your dog? + +DEMETRIUS +Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit, +For I am sick when I do look on thee. + +HELENA +And I am sick when I look not on you. + +DEMETRIUS +You do impeach your modesty too much +To leave the city and commit yourself +Into the hands of one that loves you not, +To trust the opportunity of night +And the ill counsel of a desert place +With the rich worth of your virginity. + +HELENA +Your virtue is my privilege. For that +It is not night when I do see your face, +Therefore I think I am not in the night. +Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, +For you, in my respect, are all the world. +Then, how can it be said I am alone +When all the world is here to look on me? + +DEMETRIUS +I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes +And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. + +HELENA +The wildest hath not such a heart as you. +Run when you will. The story shall be changed: +Apollo flies and Daphne holds the chase; +The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind +Makes speed to catch the tiger. Bootless speed +When cowardice pursues and valor flies! + +DEMETRIUS +I will not stay thy questions. Let me go, +Or if thou follow me, do not believe +But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. + +HELENA +Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, +You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! +Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex. +We cannot fight for love as men may do. +We should be wooed and were not made to woo. +[Demetrius exits.] +I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell +To die upon the hand I love so well. [Helena exits.] + +OBERON +Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he do leave this grove, +Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. + +[Enter Robin.] + +Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. + +ROBIN +Ay, there it is. + +OBERON I pray thee give it me. +[Robin gives him the flower.] +I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, +Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, +Quite overcanopied with luscious woodbine, +With sweet muskroses, and with eglantine. +There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, +Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight. +And there the snake throws her enameled skin, +Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. +And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes +And make her full of hateful fantasies. +Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove. +[He gives Robin part of the flower.] +A sweet Athenian lady is in love +With a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes, +But do it when the next thing he espies +May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man +By the Athenian garments he hath on. +Effect it with some care, that he may prove +More fond on her than she upon her love. +And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow. + +ROBIN +Fear not, my lord. Your servant shall do so. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Titania, Queen of Fairies, with her train.] + + +TITANIA +Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; +Then, for the third part of a minute, hence-- +Some to kill cankers in the muskrose buds, +Some war with reremice for their leathern wings +To make my small elves coats, and some keep back +The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders +At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep. +Then to your offices and let me rest. [She lies down.] + +[Fairies sing.] + + +FIRST FAIRY + You spotted snakes with double tongue, + Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen. + Newts and blindworms, do no wrong, + Come not near our Fairy Queen. + +CHORUS + Philomel, with melody + Sing in our sweet lullaby. + Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby. + Never harm + Nor spell nor charm + Come our lovely lady nigh. + So good night, with lullaby. + +FIRST FAIRY + Weaving spiders, come not here. + Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence. + Beetles black, approach not near. + Worm nor snail, do no offence. + +CHORUS + Philomel, with melody + Sing in our sweet lullaby. + Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby. + Never harm + Nor spell nor charm + Come our lovely lady nigh. + So good night, with lullaby. +[Titania sleeps.] + +SECOND FAIRY +Hence, away! Now all is well. +One aloof stand sentinel. [ Fairies exit.] + +[Enter Oberon, who anoints Titania's eyelids with the +nectar.] + + +OBERON + What thou seest when thou dost wake + Do it for thy true love take. + Love and languish for his sake. + Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, + Pard, or boar with bristled hair, + In thy eye that shall appear + When thou wak'st, it is thy dear. + Wake when some vile thing is near. [He exits.] + +[Enter Lysander and Hermia.] + + +LYSANDER +Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood. + And, to speak troth, I have forgot our way. +We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good, + And tarry for the comfort of the day. + +HERMIA +Be it so, Lysander. Find you out a bed, +For I upon this bank will rest my head. + +LYSANDER +One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; +One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. + +HERMIA +Nay, good Lysander. For my sake, my dear, +Lie further off yet. Do not lie so near. + +LYSANDER +O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence! +Love takes the meaning in love's conference. +I mean that my heart unto yours is knit, +So that but one heart we can make of it; +Two bosoms interchained with an oath-- +So then two bosoms and a single troth. +Then by your side no bed-room me deny, +For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie. + +HERMIA +Lysander riddles very prettily. +Now much beshrew my manners and my pride +If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. +But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy, +Lie further off in human modesty. +Such separation, as may well be said, +Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid. +So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend. +Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end! + +LYSANDER +"Amen, amen" to that fair prayer, say I, +And then end life when I end loyalty! +Here is my bed. Sleep give thee all his rest! + +HERMIA +With half that wish the wisher's eyes be pressed! +[They sleep.] + +[Enter Robin.] + + +ROBIN + Through the forest have I gone, + But Athenian found I none + On whose eyes I might approve + This flower's force in stirring love. +[He sees Lysander.] + Night and silence! Who is here? + Weeds of Athens he doth wear. + This is he my master said + Despised the Athenian maid. + And here the maiden, sleeping sound + On the dank and dirty ground. + Pretty soul, she durst not lie + Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.-- + Churl, upon thy eyes I throw + All the power this charm doth owe. +[He anoints Lysander's eyelids +with the nectar.] + When thou wak'st, let love forbid + Sleep his seat on thy eyelid. + So, awake when I am gone, + For I must now to Oberon. [He exits.] + +[Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.] + + +HELENA +Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. + +DEMETRIUS +I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. + +HELENA +O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, on thy peril. I alone will go. [Demetrius exits.] + +HELENA +O, I am out of breath in this fond chase. +The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. +Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies, +For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. +How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears. +If so, my eyes are oftener washed than hers. +No, no, I am as ugly as a bear, +For beasts that meet me run away for fear. +Therefore no marvel though Demetrius +Do as a monster fly my presence thus. +What wicked and dissembling glass of mine +Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne? +But who is here? Lysander, on the ground! +Dead or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.-- +Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake. + +LYSANDER, [waking up] +And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake. +Transparent Helena! Nature shows art, +That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. +Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word +Is that vile name to perish on my sword! + +HELENA +Do not say so. Lysander, say not so. +What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what +though? +Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content. + +LYSANDER +Content with Hermia? No, I do repent +The tedious minutes I with her have spent. +Not Hermia, but Helena I love. +Who will not change a raven for a dove? +The will of man is by his reason swayed, +And reason says you are the worthier maid. +Things growing are not ripe until their season; +So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason. +And touching now the point of human skill, +Reason becomes the marshal to my will +And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook +Love's stories written in love's richest book. + +HELENA +Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? +When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? +Is 't not enough, is 't not enough, young man, +That I did never, no, nor never can +Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, +But you must flout my insufficiency? +Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, +In such disdainful manner me to woo. +But fare you well. Perforce I must confess +I thought you lord of more true gentleness. +O, that a lady of one man refused +Should of another therefore be abused! [She exits.] + +LYSANDER +She sees not Hermia.--Hermia, sleep thou there, +And never mayst thou come Lysander near. +For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things +The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, +Or as the heresies that men do leave +Are hated most of those they did deceive, +So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, +Of all be hated, but the most of me! +And, all my powers, address your love and might +To honor Helen and to be her knight. [He exits.] + +HERMIA, [waking up] +Help me, Lysander, help me! Do thy best +To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast. +Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! +Lysander, look how I do quake with fear. +Methought a serpent ate my heart away, +And you sat smiling at his cruel prey. +Lysander! What, removed? Lysander, lord! +What, out of hearing? Gone? No sound, no word? +Alack, where are you? Speak, an if you hear. +Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.-- +No? Then I well perceive you are not nigh. +Either death or you I'll find immediately. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[With Titania still asleep onstage, enter the Clowns, +Bottom, Quince, Snout, Starveling, Snug, and Flute.] + + +BOTTOM Are we all met? + +QUINCE Pat, pat. And here's a marvels convenient +place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be +our stage, this hawthorn brake our tiring-house, +and we will do it in action as we will do it before +the Duke. + +BOTTOM Peter Quince? + +QUINCE What sayest thou, bully Bottom? + +BOTTOM There are things in this comedy of Pyramus +and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus +must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies +cannot abide. How answer you that? + +SNOUT By 'r lakin, a parlous fear. + +STARVELING I believe we must leave the killing out, +when all is done. + +BOTTOM Not a whit! I have a device to make all well. +Write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to +say we will do no harm with our swords and that +Pyramus is not killed indeed. And, for the more +better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not +Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver. This will put them +out of fear. + +QUINCE Well, we will have such a prologue, and it shall +be written in eight and six. + +BOTTOM No, make it two more. Let it be written in +eight and eight. + +SNOUT Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? + +STARVELING I fear it, I promise you. + +BOTTOM Masters, you ought to consider with yourself, +to bring in (God shield us!) a lion among ladies is a +most dreadful thing. For there is not a more fearful +wildfowl than your lion living, and we ought to look +to 't. + +SNOUT Therefore another prologue must tell he is not +a lion. + +BOTTOM Nay, you must name his name, and half his +face must be seen through the lion's neck, and he +himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the +same defect: "Ladies," or "Fair ladies, I would +wish you," or "I would request you," or "I would +entreat you not to fear, not to tremble! My life for +yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were +pity of my life. No, I am no such thing. I am a man as +other men are." And there indeed let him name his +name and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner. + +QUINCE Well, it shall be so. But there is two hard +things: that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber, +for you know Pyramus and Thisbe meet by +moonlight. + +SNOUT Doth the moon shine that night we play our +play? + +BOTTOM A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanac. +Find out moonshine, find out moonshine. +[Quince takes out a book.] + +QUINCE Yes, it doth shine that night. + +BOTTOM Why, then, may you leave a casement of the +great chamber window, where we play, open, and +the moon may shine in at the casement. + +QUINCE Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of +thorns and a lantern and say he comes to disfigure +or to present the person of Moonshine. Then there +is another thing: we must have a wall in the great +chamber, for Pyramus and Thisbe, says the story, +did talk through the chink of a wall. + +SNOUT You can never bring in a wall. What say you, +Bottom? + +BOTTOM Some man or other must present Wall. And +let him have some plaster, or some loam, or some +roughcast about him to signify wall, or let him +hold his fingers thus, and through that cranny shall +Pyramus and Thisbe whisper. + +QUINCE If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down, +every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. Pyramus, +you begin. When you have spoken your +speech, enter into that brake, and so everyone +according to his cue. + +[Enter Robin invisible to those onstage.] + + +ROBIN, [aside] +What hempen homespuns have we swagg'ring here +So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen? +What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor-- +An actor too perhaps, if I see cause. + +QUINCE Speak, Pyramus.--Thisbe, stand forth. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] + Thisbe, the flowers of odious savors sweet-- + +QUINCE Odors, odors! + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] + ...odors savors sweet. + So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisbe dear.-- + But hark, a voice! Stay thou but here awhile, + And by and by I will to thee appear. [He exits.] + +ROBIN, [aside] +A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here. [He exits.] + +FLUTE Must I speak now? + +QUINCE Ay, marry, must you, for you must understand +he goes but to see a noise that he heard and is to +come again. + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] + Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue, + Of color like the red rose on triumphant brier, + Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew, + As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire. + I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. + +QUINCE "Ninus' tomb," man! Why, you must not +speak that yet. That you answer to Pyramus. You +speak all your part at once, cues and all.--Pyramus, +enter. Your cue is past. It is "never tire." + +FLUTE O! +[As Thisbe.] As true as truest horse, that yet would never +tire. + +[Enter Robin, and Bottom as Pyramus with the +ass-head.] + + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] + If I were fair, fair Thisbe, I were only thine. + +QUINCE O monstrous! O strange! We are haunted. Pray, +masters, fly, masters! Help! +[Quince, Flute, Snout, Snug, and Starveling exit.] + +ROBIN +I'll follow you. I'll lead you about a round, + Through bog, through bush, through brake, + through brier. +Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, + A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire, +And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn, +Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. +[He exits.] + +BOTTOM Why do they run away? This is a knavery of +them to make me afeard. + +[Enter Snout.] + + +SNOUT O Bottom, thou art changed! What do I see on +thee? + +BOTTOM What do you see? You see an ass-head of your +own, do you? [Snout exits.] + +[Enter Quince.] + + +QUINCE Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art +translated! [He exits.] + +BOTTOM I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of +me, to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir +from this place, do what they can. I will walk up +and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear +I am not afraid. +[He sings.] The ouzel cock, so black of hue, + With orange-tawny bill, + The throstle with his note so true, + The wren with little quill-- + +TITANIA, [waking up] +What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? + +BOTTOM [sings] + The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, + The plainsong cuckoo gray, + Whose note full many a man doth mark + And dares not answer "nay"-- +for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish a +bird? Who would give a bird the lie though he cry +"cuckoo" never so? + +TITANIA +I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. +Mine ear is much enamored of thy note, +So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape, +And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me +On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee. + +BOTTOM Methinks, mistress, you should have little +reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason +and love keep little company together nowadays. +The more the pity that some honest neighbors will +not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon +occasion. + +TITANIA +Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. + +BOTTOM Not so neither; but if I had wit enough to get +out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own +turn. + +TITANIA +Out of this wood do not desire to go. +Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no. +I am a spirit of no common rate. +The summer still doth tend upon my state, +And I do love thee. Therefore go with me. +I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee, +And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep +And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep. +And I will purge thy mortal grossness so +That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.-- +Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Mote, and Mustardseed! + +[Enter four Fairies: Peaseblossom, Cobweb, +Mote, and Mustardseed.] + + +PEASEBLOSSOM Ready. + +COBWEB And I. + +MOTE And I. + +MUSTARDSEED And I. + +ALL Where shall we go? + +TITANIA +Be kind and courteous to this gentleman. +Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; +Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, +With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; +The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees, +And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs +And light them at the fiery glowworms' eyes +To have my love to bed and to arise; +And pluck the wings from painted butterflies +To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes. +Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. + +PEASEBLOSSOM Hail, mortal! + +COBWEB Hail! + +MOTE Hail! + +MUSTARDSEED Hail! + +BOTTOM I cry your Worships mercy, heartily.--I beseech +your Worship's name. + +COBWEB Cobweb. + +BOTTOM I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good +Master Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I shall make +bold with you.--Your name, honest gentleman? + +PEASEBLOSSOM Peaseblossom. + +BOTTOM I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, +your mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. +Good Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of +more acquaintance too.--Your name, I beseech +you, sir? + +MUSTARDSEED Mustardseed. + +BOTTOM Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience +well. That same cowardly, giantlike ox-beef +hath devoured many a gentleman of your house. I +promise you, your kindred hath made my eyes +water ere now. I desire you of more acquaintance, +good Master Mustardseed. + +TITANIA +Come, wait upon him. Lead him to my bower. + The moon, methinks, looks with a wat'ry eye, +And when she weeps, weeps every little flower, + Lamenting some enforced chastity. +Tie up my lover's tongue. Bring him silently. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Oberon, King of Fairies.] + + +OBERON +I wonder if Titania be awaked; +Then what it was that next came in her eye, +Which she must dote on in extremity. + +[Enter Robin Goodfellow.] + +Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit? +What night-rule now about this haunted grove? + +ROBIN +My mistress with a monster is in love. +Near to her close and consecrated bower, +While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, +A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, +That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, +Were met together to rehearse a play +Intended for great Theseus' nuptial day. +The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, +Who Pyramus presented in their sport, +Forsook his scene and entered in a brake. +When I did him at this advantage take, +An ass's noll I fixed on his head. +Anon his Thisbe must be answered, +And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy, +As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, +Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, +Rising and cawing at the gun's report, +Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky, +So at his sight away his fellows fly, +And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls. +He "Murder" cries and help from Athens calls. +Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus +strong, +Made senseless things begin to do them wrong; +For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch, +Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things +catch. +I led them on in this distracted fear +And left sweet Pyramus translated there. +When in that moment, so it came to pass, +Titania waked and straightway loved an ass. + +OBERON +This falls out better than I could devise. +But hast thou yet latched the Athenian's eyes +With the love juice, as I did bid thee do? + +ROBIN +I took him sleeping--that is finished, too-- +And the Athenian woman by his side, +That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed. + +[Enter Demetrius and Hermia.] + + +OBERON +Stand close. This is the same Athenian. + +ROBIN +This is the woman, but not this the man. +[They step aside.] + +DEMETRIUS +O, why rebuke you him that loves you so? +Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe! + +HERMIA +Now I but chide, but I should use thee worse, +For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. +If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, +Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep +And kill me too. +The sun was not so true unto the day +As he to me. Would he have stolen away +From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon +This whole Earth may be bored, and that the moon +May through the center creep and so displease +Her brother's noontide with th' Antipodes. +It cannot be but thou hast murdered him. +So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. + +DEMETRIUS +So should the murdered look, and so should I, +Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty. +Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, +As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. + +HERMIA +What's this to my Lysander? Where is he? +Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? + +DEMETRIUS +I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. + +HERMIA +Out, dog! Out, cur! Thou driv'st me past the bounds +Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then? +Henceforth be never numbered among men. +O, once tell true! Tell true, even for my sake! +Durst thou have looked upon him, being awake? +And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch! +Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? +An adder did it, for with doubler tongue +Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung. + +DEMETRIUS +You spend your passion on a misprised mood. +I am not guilty of Lysander's blood, +Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. + +HERMIA +I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. + +DEMETRIUS +An if I could, what should I get therefor? + +HERMIA +A privilege never to see me more. +And from thy hated presence part I so. +See me no more, whether he be dead or no. +[She exits.] + +DEMETRIUS +There is no following her in this fierce vein. +Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. +So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow +For debt that bankrout sleep doth sorrow owe, +Which now in some slight measure it will pay, +If for his tender here I make some stay. +[He lies down and falls asleep.] + +OBERON, [to Robin] +What hast thou done? Thou hast mistaken quite +And laid the love juice on some true-love's sight. +Of thy misprision must perforce ensue +Some true-love turned, and not a false turned true. + +ROBIN +Then fate o'errules, that, one man holding troth, +A million fail, confounding oath on oath. + +OBERON +About the wood go swifter than the wind, +And Helena of Athens look thou find. +All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer +With sighs of love that costs the fresh blood dear. +By some illusion see thou bring her here. +I'll charm his eyes against she do appear. + +ROBIN I go, I go, look how I go, +Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [He exits.] + +OBERON, [applying the nectar to Demetrius' eyes] + Flower of this purple dye, + Hit with Cupid's archery, + Sink in apple of his eye. + When his love he doth espy, + Let her shine as gloriously + As the Venus of the sky.-- + When thou wak'st, if she be by, + Beg of her for remedy. + +[Enter Robin.] + + +ROBIN + Captain of our fairy band, + Helena is here at hand, + And the youth, mistook by me, + Pleading for a lover's fee. + Shall we their fond pageant see? + Lord, what fools these mortals be! + +OBERON + Stand aside. The noise they make + Will cause Demetrius to awake. + +ROBIN + Then will two at once woo one. + That must needs be sport alone. + And those things do best please me + That befall prepost'rously. +[They step aside.] + +[Enter Lysander and Helena.] + + +LYSANDER +Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? + Scorn and derision never come in tears. +Look when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, + In their nativity all truth appears. +How can these things in me seem scorn to you, +Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true? + +HELENA +You do advance your cunning more and more. + When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray! +These vows are Hermia's. Will you give her o'er? + Weigh oath with oath and you will nothing + weigh. +Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, +Will even weigh, and both as light as tales. + +LYSANDER +I had no judgment when to her I swore. + +HELENA +Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er. + +LYSANDER +Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. + +DEMETRIUS, [waking up] +O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! +To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? +Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show +Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! +That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, +Fanned with the eastern wind, turns to a crow +When thou hold'st up thy hand. O, let me kiss +This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss! + +HELENA +O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent +To set against me for your merriment. +If you were civil and knew courtesy, +You would not do me thus much injury. +Can you not hate me, as I know you do, +But you must join in souls to mock me too? +If you were men, as men you are in show, +You would not use a gentle lady so, +To vow and swear and superpraise my parts, +When, I am sure, you hate me with your hearts. +You both are rivals and love Hermia, +And now both rivals to mock Helena. +A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, +To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes +With your derision! None of noble sort +Would so offend a virgin and extort +A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. + +LYSANDER +You are unkind, Demetrius. Be not so, +For you love Hermia; this you know I know. +And here with all goodwill, with all my heart, +In Hermia's love I yield you up my part. +And yours of Helena to me bequeath, +Whom I do love and will do till my death. + +HELENA +Never did mockers waste more idle breath. + +DEMETRIUS +Lysander, keep thy Hermia. I will none. +If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone. +My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourned, +And now to Helen is it home returned, +There to remain. + +LYSANDER Helen, it is not so. + +DEMETRIUS +Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, +Lest to thy peril thou aby it dear. +Look where thy love comes. Yonder is thy dear. + +[Enter Hermia.] + + +HERMIA, [to Lysander] +Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, +The ear more quick of apprehension makes; +Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, +It pays the hearing double recompense. +Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found; +Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. +But why unkindly didst thou leave me so? + +LYSANDER +Why should he stay whom love doth press to go? + +HERMIA +What love could press Lysander from my side? + +LYSANDER +Lysander's love, that would not let him bide, +Fair Helena, who more engilds the night +Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. +Why seek'st thou me? Could not this make thee +know +The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? + +HERMIA +You speak not as you think. It cannot be. + +HELENA +Lo, she is one of this confederacy! +Now I perceive they have conjoined all three +To fashion this false sport in spite of me.-- +Injurious Hermia, most ungrateful maid, +Have you conspired, have you with these contrived, +To bait me with this foul derision? +Is all the counsel that we two have shared, +The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent +When we have chid the hasty-footed time +For parting us--O, is all forgot? +All schooldays' friendship, childhood innocence? +We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, +Have with our needles created both one flower, +Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, +Both warbling of one song, both in one key, +As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds +Had been incorporate. So we grew together +Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, +But yet an union in partition, +Two lovely berries molded on one stem; +So with two seeming bodies but one heart, +Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, +Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. +And will you rent our ancient love asunder, +To join with men in scorning your poor friend? +It is not friendly; 'tis not maidenly. +Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, +Though I alone do feel the injury. + +HERMIA +I am amazed at your words. +I scorn you not. It seems that you scorn me. + +HELENA +Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, +To follow me and praise my eyes and face, +And made your other love, Demetrius, +Who even but now did spurn me with his foot, +To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare, +Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this +To her he hates? And wherefore doth Lysander +Deny your love (so rich within his soul) +And tender me, forsooth, affection, +But by your setting on, by your consent? +What though I be not so in grace as you, +So hung upon with love, so fortunate, +But miserable most, to love unloved? +This you should pity rather than despise. + +HERMIA +I understand not what you mean by this. + +HELENA +Ay, do. Persever, counterfeit sad looks, +Make mouths upon me when I turn my back, +Wink each at other, hold the sweet jest up. +This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. +If you have any pity, grace, or manners, +You would not make me such an argument. +But fare you well. 'Tis partly my own fault, +Which death or absence soon shall remedy. + +LYSANDER +Stay, gentle Helena. Hear my excuse, +My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena. + +HELENA +O excellent! + +HERMIA, [to Lysander] +Sweet, do not scorn her so. + +DEMETRIUS, [to Lysander] +If she cannot entreat, I can compel. + +LYSANDER +Thou canst compel no more than she entreat. +Thy threats have no more strength than her weak +prayers.-- +Helen, I love thee. By my life, I do. +I swear by that which I will lose for thee, +To prove him false that says I love thee not. + +DEMETRIUS +I say I love thee more than he can do. + +LYSANDER +If thou say so, withdraw and prove it too. + +DEMETRIUS +Quick, come. + +HERMIA Lysander, whereto tends all this? +[She takes hold of Lysander.] + +LYSANDER +Away, you Ethiop! + +DEMETRIUS, [to Hermia] +No, no. He'll +Seem to break loose. [To Lysander.] Take on as you +would follow, +But yet come not. You are a tame man, go! + +LYSANDER, [to Hermia] +Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose, +Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. + +HERMIA +Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, +Sweet love? + +LYSANDER Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out! +Out, loathed med'cine! O, hated potion, hence! + +HERMIA +Do you not jest? + +HELENA Yes, sooth, and so do you. + +LYSANDER +Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. + +DEMETRIUS +I would I had your bond. For I perceive +A weak bond holds you. I'll not trust your word. + +LYSANDER +What? Should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? +Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so. + +HERMIA +What, can you do me greater harm than hate? +Hate me? Wherefore? O me, what news, my love? +Am not I Hermia? Are not you Lysander? +I am as fair now as I was erewhile. +Since night you loved me; yet since night you left +me. +Why, then, you left me--O, the gods forbid!-- +In earnest, shall I say? + +LYSANDER Ay, by my life, +And never did desire to see thee more. +Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt. +Be certain, nothing truer, 'tis no jest +That I do hate thee and love Helena. +[Hermia turns him loose.] + +HERMIA +O me! [To Helena.] You juggler, you cankerblossom, +You thief of love! What, have you come by night +And stol'n my love's heart from him? + +HELENA Fine, i' faith. +Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, +No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear +Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? +Fie, fie, you counterfeit, you puppet, you! + +HERMIA +"Puppet"? Why so? Ay, that way goes the game. +Now I perceive that she hath made compare +Between our statures; she hath urged her height, +And with her personage, her tall personage, +Her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed with him. +And are you grown so high in his esteem +Because I am so dwarfish and so low? +How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak! +How low am I? I am not yet so low +But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. + +HELENA +I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, +Let her not hurt me. I was never curst; +I have no gift at all in shrewishness. +I am a right maid for my cowardice. +Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, +Because she is something lower than myself, +That I can match her. + +HERMIA "Lower"? Hark, again! + +HELENA +Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. +I evermore did love you, Hermia, +Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you-- +Save that, in love unto Demetrius, +I told him of your stealth unto this wood. +He followed you; for love, I followed him. +But he hath chid me hence and threatened me +To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too. +And now, so you will let me quiet go, +To Athens will I bear my folly back +And follow you no further. Let me go. +You see how simple and how fond I am. + +HERMIA +Why, get you gone. Who is 't that hinders you? + +HELENA +A foolish heart that I leave here behind. + +HERMIA +What, with Lysander? + +HELENA With Demetrius. + +LYSANDER +Be not afraid. She shall not harm thee, Helena. + +DEMETRIUS +No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part. + +HELENA +O, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd. +She was a vixen when she went to school, +And though she be but little, she is fierce. + +HERMIA +"Little" again? Nothing but "low" and "little"? +Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? +Let me come to her. + +LYSANDER Get you gone, you dwarf, +You minimus of hind'ring knotgrass made, +You bead, you acorn-- + +DEMETRIUS You are too officious +In her behalf that scorns your services. +Let her alone. Speak not of Helena. +Take not her part. For if thou dost intend +Never so little show of love to her, +Thou shalt aby it. + +LYSANDER Now she holds me not. +Now follow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right, +Of thine or mine, is most in Helena. + +DEMETRIUS +"Follow"? Nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl. +[Demetrius and Lysander exit.] + +HERMIA +You, mistress, all this coil is long of you. +[Helena retreats.] +Nay, go not back. + +HELENA I will not trust you, I, +Nor longer stay in your curst company. +Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray. +My legs are longer though, to run away. [She exits.] + +HERMIA +I am amazed and know not what to say. [She exits.] + +OBERON, [to Robin] +This is thy negligence. Still thou mistak'st, +Or else committ'st thy knaveries willfully. + +ROBIN +Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. +Did not you tell me I should know the man +By the Athenian garments he had on? +And so far blameless proves my enterprise +That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes; +And so far am I glad it so did sort, +As this their jangling I esteem a sport. + +OBERON +Thou seest these lovers seek a place to fight. +Hie, therefore, Robin, overcast the night; +The starry welkin cover thou anon +With drooping fog as black as Acheron, +And lead these testy rivals so astray +As one come not within another's way. +Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue; +Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong. +And sometime rail thou like Demetrius. +And from each other look thou lead them thus, +Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep +With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. +Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye, +[He gives a flower to Robin.] +Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, +To take from thence all error with his might +And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. +When they next wake, all this derision +Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision. +And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, +With league whose date till death shall never end. +Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, +I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy; +And then I will her charmed eye release +From monster's view, and all things shall be peace. + +ROBIN +My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, +For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, +And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, +At whose approach, ghosts wand'ring here and +there +Troop home to churchyards. Damned spirits all, +That in crossways and floods have burial, +Already to their wormy beds are gone. +For fear lest day should look their shames upon, +They willfully themselves exile from light +And must for aye consort with black-browed night. + +OBERON +But we are spirits of another sort. +I with the Morning's love have oft made sport +And, like a forester, the groves may tread +Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red, +Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, +Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams. +But notwithstanding, haste! Make no delay. +We may effect this business yet ere day. [He exits.] + +ROBIN + Up and down, up and down, + I will lead them up and down. + I am feared in field and town. + Goblin, lead them up and down. +Here comes one. + +[Enter Lysander.] + + +LYSANDER +Where art thou, proud Demetrius? Speak thou now. + +ROBIN, [in Demetrius' voice] +Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou? + +LYSANDER I will be with thee straight. + +ROBIN, [in Demetrius' voice] Follow me, then, to +plainer ground. [Lysander exits.] + +[Enter Demetrius.] + + +DEMETRIUS Lysander, speak again. +Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? +Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy +head? + +ROBIN, [in Lysander's voice] +Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, +Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, +And wilt not come? Come, recreant! Come, thou +child! +I'll whip thee with a rod. He is defiled +That draws a sword on thee. + +DEMETRIUS Yea, art thou there? + +ROBIN, [in Lysander's voice] +Follow my voice. We'll try no manhood here. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Lysander.] + + +LYSANDER +He goes before me and still dares me on. +When I come where he calls, then he is gone. +The villain is much lighter-heeled than I. +I followed fast, but faster he did fly, +That fallen am I in dark uneven way, +And here will rest me. Come, thou gentle day, +For if but once thou show me thy gray light, +I'll find Demetrius and revenge this spite. +[He lies down and sleeps.] + +[Enter Robin and Demetrius.] + + +ROBIN, [in Lysander's voice] +Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why com'st thou not? + +DEMETRIUS +Abide me, if thou dar'st, for well I wot +Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place, +And dar'st not stand nor look me in the face. +Where art thou now? + +ROBIN, [in Lysander's voice] +Come hither. I am here. + +DEMETRIUS +Nay, then, thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this +dear +If ever I thy face by daylight see. +Now go thy way. Faintness constraineth me +To measure out my length on this cold bed. +By day's approach look to be visited. +[He lies down and sleeps.] + +[Enter Helena.] + + +HELENA +O weary night, O long and tedious night, + Abate thy hours! Shine, comforts, from the east, +That I may back to Athens by daylight + From these that my poor company detest. +And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, +Steal me awhile from mine own company. +[She lies down and sleeps.] + +ROBIN + Yet but three? Come one more. + Two of both kinds makes up four. + Here she comes, curst and sad. + Cupid is a knavish lad + Thus to make poor females mad. + +[Enter Hermia.] + + +HERMIA +Never so weary, never so in woe, + Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers, +I can no further crawl, no further go. + My legs can keep no pace with my desires. +Here will I rest me till the break of day. +Heavens shield Lysander if they mean a fray! +[She lies down and sleeps.] + +ROBIN + On the ground + Sleep sound. + I'll apply + To your eye, + Gentle lover, remedy. + +[Robin applies the nectar + to Lysander's eyes.] + When thou wak'st, + Thou tak'st + True delight + In the sight + Of thy former lady's eye. + And the country proverb known, + That every man should take his own, + In your waking shall be shown. + Jack shall have Jill; + Naught shall go ill; + The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be +well. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[With the four lovers still asleep onstage, enter +Titania, Queen of Fairies, and Bottom and Fairies, +and Oberon, the King, behind them unseen by those +onstage.] + + +TITANIA +Come, sit thee down upon this flow'ry bed, + While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, +And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head, + And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. + +BOTTOM Where's Peaseblossom? + +PEASEBLOSSOM Ready. + +BOTTOM Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where's +Monsieur Cobweb? + +COBWEB Ready. + +BOTTOM Monsieur Cobweb, good monsieur, get you +your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipped +humble-bee on the top of a thistle, and, good +monsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret +yourself too much in the action, monsieur, and, +good monsieur, have a care the honey-bag break +not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a +honey-bag, signior. [Cobweb exits.] Where's Monsieur +Mustardseed? + +MUSTARDSEED Ready. + +BOTTOM Give me your neaf, Monsieur Mustardseed. +Pray you, leave your courtesy, good monsieur. + +MUSTARDSEED What's your will? + +BOTTOM Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavalery +Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, +monsieur, for methinks I am marvels hairy about +the face. And I am such a tender ass, if my hair do +but tickle me, I must scratch. + +TITANIA +What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? + +BOTTOM I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's +have the tongs and the bones. + +TITANIA +Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. + +BOTTOM Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch +your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire +to a bottle of hay. Good hay, sweet hay, hath no +fellow. + +TITANIA +I have a venturous fairy that shall seek +The squirrel's hoard and fetch thee new nuts. + +BOTTOM I had rather have a handful or two of dried +peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir +me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. + +TITANIA +Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.-- +Fairies, begone, and be all ways away. +[Fairies exit.] +So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle +Gently entwist; the female ivy so +Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. +O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee! +[Bottom and Titania sleep.] + +[Enter Robin Goodfellow.] + + +OBERON +Welcome, good Robin. Seest thou this sweet sight? +Her dotage now I do begin to pity. +For, meeting her of late behind the wood, +Seeking sweet favors for this hateful fool, +I did upbraid her and fall out with her. +For she his hairy temples then had rounded +With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; +And that same dew, which sometime on the buds +Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, +Stood now within the pretty flouriets' eyes, +Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. +When I had at my pleasure taunted her, +And she in mild terms begged my patience, +I then did ask of her her changeling child, +Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent +To bear him to my bower in Fairyland. +And now I have the boy, I will undo +This hateful imperfection of her eyes. +And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp +From off the head of this Athenian swain, +That he, awaking when the other do, +May all to Athens back again repair +And think no more of this night's accidents +But as the fierce vexation of a dream. +But first I will release the Fairy Queen. +[He applies the nectar to her eyes.] + Be as thou wast wont to be. + See as thou wast wont to see. + Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower + Hath such force and blessed power. +Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen. + +TITANIA, [waking] +My Oberon, what visions have I seen! +Methought I was enamored of an ass. + +OBERON +There lies your love. + +TITANIA How came these things to pass? +O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! + +OBERON +Silence awhile.--Robin, take off this head.-- +Titania, music call; and strike more dead +Than common sleep of all these five the sense. + +TITANIA +Music, ho, music such as charmeth sleep! + +ROBIN, [removing the ass-head from Bottom] +Now, when thou wak'st, with thine own fool's eyes +peep. + +OBERON +Sound music. [Music.] +Come, my queen, take hands with me, +And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. +[Titania and Oberon dance.] +Now thou and I are new in amity, +And will tomorrow midnight solemnly +Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly, +And bless it to all fair prosperity. +There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be +Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity. + +ROBIN + Fairy king, attend and mark. + I do hear the morning lark. + +OBERON + Then, my queen, in silence sad + Trip we after night's shade. + We the globe can compass soon, + Swifter than the wand'ring moon. + +TITANIA + Come, my lord, and in our flight + Tell me how it came this night + That I sleeping here was found + With these mortals on the ground. +[Oberon, Robin, and Titania exit.] + +[Wind horn. Enter Theseus and all his train, +Hippolyta, Egeus.] + + +THESEUS +Go, one of you, find out the Forester. +For now our observation is performed, +And, since we have the vaward of the day, +My love shall hear the music of my hounds. +Uncouple in the western valley; let them go. +Dispatch, I say, and find the Forester. +[A Servant exits.] +We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top +And mark the musical confusion +Of hounds and echo in conjunction. + +HIPPOLYTA +I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, +When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear +With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear +Such gallant chiding, for, besides the groves, +The skies, the fountains, every region near +Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard +So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. + +THESEUS +My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, +So flewed, so sanded; and their heads are hung +With ears that sweep away the morning dew; +Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls; +Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells, +Each under each. A cry more tunable +Was never holloed to, nor cheered with horn, +In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly. +Judge when you hear.--But soft! What nymphs are +these? + +EGEUS +My lord, this is my daughter here asleep, +And this Lysander; this Demetrius is, +This Helena, old Nedar's Helena. +I wonder of their being here together. + +THESEUS +No doubt they rose up early to observe +The rite of May, and hearing our intent, +Came here in grace of our solemnity. +But speak, Egeus. Is not this the day +That Hermia should give answer of her choice? + +EGEUS It is, my lord. + +THESEUS +Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. +[A Servant exits.] +[Shout within. Wind horns. They all start up.] + +THESEUS +Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past. +Begin these woodbirds but to couple now? +[Demetrius, Helena, Hermia, and Lysander kneel.] + +LYSANDER +Pardon, my lord. + +THESEUS I pray you all, stand up. +[They rise.] +I know you two are rival enemies. +How comes this gentle concord in the world, +That hatred is so far from jealousy +To sleep by hate and fear no enmity? + +LYSANDER +My lord, I shall reply amazedly, +Half sleep, half waking. But as yet, I swear, +I cannot truly say how I came here. +But, as I think--for truly would I speak, +And now I do bethink me, so it is: +I came with Hermia hither. Our intent +Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, +Without the peril of the Athenian law-- + +EGEUS +Enough, enough!--My lord, you have enough. +I beg the law, the law upon his head. +They would have stol'n away.--They would, +Demetrius, +Thereby to have defeated you and me: +You of your wife and me of my consent, +Of my consent that she should be your wife. + +DEMETRIUS +My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, +Of this their purpose hither to this wood, +And I in fury hither followed them, +Fair Helena in fancy following me. +But, my good lord, I wot not by what power +(But by some power it is) my love to Hermia, +Melted as the snow, seems to me now +As the remembrance of an idle gaud +Which in my childhood I did dote upon, +And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, +The object and the pleasure of mine eye, +Is only Helena. To her, my lord, +Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia. +But like a sickness did I loathe this food. +But, as in health, come to my natural taste, +Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, +And will forevermore be true to it. + +THESEUS +Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. +Of this discourse we more will hear anon.-- +Egeus, I will overbear your will, +For in the temple by and by, with us, +These couples shall eternally be knit.-- +And, for the morning now is something worn, +Our purposed hunting shall be set aside. +Away with us to Athens. Three and three, +We'll hold a feast in great solemnity. +Come, Hippolyta. +[Theseus and his train, +including Hippolyta and Egeus, exit.] + +DEMETRIUS +These things seem small and undistinguishable, +Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. + +HERMIA +Methinks I see these things with parted eye, +When everything seems double. + +HELENA So methinks. +And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, +Mine own and not mine own. + +DEMETRIUS Are you sure +That we are awake? It seems to me +That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think +The Duke was here and bid us follow him? + +HERMIA +Yea, and my father. + +HELENA And Hippolyta. + +LYSANDER +And he did bid us follow to the temple. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, then, we are awake. Let's follow him, +And by the way let us recount our dreams. +[Lovers exit.] + +BOTTOM, [waking up] When my cue comes, call me, +and I will answer. My next is "Most fair Pyramus." +Hey-ho! Peter Quince! Flute the bellows-mender! +Snout the tinker! Starveling! God's my life! Stolen +hence and left me asleep! I have had a most rare +vision. I have had a dream past the wit of man to say +what dream it was. Man is but an ass if he go about +to expound this dream. Methought I was--there +is no man can tell what. Methought I was and +methought I had--but man is but a patched fool if +he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of +man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, +man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to +conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream +was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this +dream. It shall be called "Bottom's Dream" because +it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the +latter end of a play, before the Duke. Peradventure, +to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her +death. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Quince, Flute, Snout, and Starveling.] + + +QUINCE Have you sent to Bottom's house? Is he come +home yet? + +STARVELING He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he +is transported. + +FLUTE If he come not, then the play is marred. It goes +not forward, doth it? + +QUINCE It is not possible. You have not a man in all +Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he. + +FLUTE No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraftman +in Athens. + +QUINCE Yea, and the best person too, and he is a very +paramour for a sweet voice. + +FLUTE You must say "paragon." A "paramour" is (God +bless us) a thing of naught. + +[Enter Snug the joiner.] + + +SNUG Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple, +and there is two or three lords and ladies more +married. If our sport had gone forward, we had all +been made men. + +FLUTE O, sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence +a day during his life. He could not have +'scaped sixpence a day. An the Duke had not given +him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I'll be +hanged. He would have deserved it. Sixpence a day +in Pyramus, or nothing! + +[Enter Bottom.] + + +BOTTOM Where are these lads? Where are these +hearts? + +QUINCE Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy +hour! + +BOTTOM Masters, I am to discourse wonders. But ask +me not what; for, if I tell you, I am not true +Athenian. I will tell you everything right as it fell +out. + +QUINCE Let us hear, sweet Bottom. + +BOTTOM Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is that +the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, +good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your +pumps. Meet presently at the palace. Every man +look o'er his part. For the short and the long is, our +play is preferred. In any case, let Thisbe have clean +linen, and let not him that plays the lion pare his +nails, for they shall hang out for the lion's claws. +And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for +we are to utter sweet breath, and I do not doubt but +to hear them say it is a sweet comedy. No more +words. Away! Go, away! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate, Lords, and +Attendants.] + + +HIPPOLYTA +'Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of. + +THESEUS +More strange than true. I never may believe +These antique fables nor these fairy toys. +Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, +Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend +More than cool reason ever comprehends. +The lunatic, the lover, and the poet +Are of imagination all compact. +One sees more devils than vast hell can hold: +That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, +Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. +The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, +Doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to +heaven, +And as imagination bodies forth +The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen +Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing +A local habitation and a name. +Such tricks hath strong imagination +That, if it would but apprehend some joy, +It comprehends some bringer of that joy. +Or in the night, imagining some fear, +How easy is a bush supposed a bear! + +HIPPOLYTA +But all the story of the night told over, +And all their minds transfigured so together, +More witnesseth than fancy's images +And grows to something of great constancy, +But, howsoever, strange and admirable. + +[Enter Lovers: Lysander, Demetrius, Hermia, and Helena.] + + +THESEUS +Here come the lovers full of joy and mirth.-- +Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love +Accompany your hearts! + +LYSANDER More than to us +Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed! + +THESEUS +Come now, what masques, what dances shall we +have +To wear away this long age of three hours +Between our after-supper and bedtime? +Where is our usual manager of mirth? +What revels are in hand? Is there no play +To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? +Call Philostrate. + +PHILOSTRATE, [coming forward] Here, mighty Theseus. + +THESEUS +Say what abridgment have you for this evening, +What masque, what music? How shall we beguile +The lazy time if not with some delight? + +PHILOSTRATE, [giving Theseus a paper] +There is a brief how many sports are ripe. +Make choice of which your Highness will see first. + +THESEUS +"The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung +By an Athenian eunuch to the harp." +We'll none of that. That have I told my love +In glory of my kinsman Hercules. +"The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, +Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage." +That is an old device, and it was played +When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. +"The thrice-three Muses mourning for the death +Of learning, late deceased in beggary." +That is some satire, keen and critical, +Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. +"A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus +And his love Thisbe, very tragical mirth." +"Merry" and "tragical"? "Tedious" and "brief"? +That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow! +How shall we find the concord of this discord? + +PHILOSTRATE +A play there is, my lord, some ten words long +(Which is as brief as I have known a play), +But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, +Which makes it tedious; for in all the play, +There is not one word apt, one player fitted. +And tragical, my noble lord, it is. +For Pyramus therein doth kill himself, +Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess, +Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears +The passion of loud laughter never shed. + +THESEUS +What are they that do play it? + +PHILOSTRATE +Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, +Which never labored in their minds till now, +And now have toiled their unbreathed memories +With this same play, against your nuptial. + +THESEUS +And we will hear it. + +PHILOSTRATE No, my noble lord, +It is not for you. I have heard it over, +And it is nothing, nothing in the world, +Unless you can find sport in their intents, +Extremely stretched and conned with cruel pain +To do you service. + +THESEUS I will hear that play, +For never anything can be amiss +When simpleness and duty tender it. +Go, bring them in--and take your places, ladies. +[Philostrate exits.] + +HIPPOLYTA +I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged, +And duty in his service perishing. + +THESEUS +Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. + +HIPPOLYTA +He says they can do nothing in this kind. + +THESEUS +The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. +Our sport shall be to take what they mistake; +And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect +Takes it in might, not merit. +Where I have come, great clerks have purposed +To greet me with premeditated welcomes, +Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, +Make periods in the midst of sentences, +Throttle their practiced accent in their fears, +And in conclusion dumbly have broke off, +Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet, +Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome, +And in the modesty of fearful duty, +I read as much as from the rattling tongue +Of saucy and audacious eloquence. +Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity +In least speak most, to my capacity. + +[Enter Philostrate.] + + +PHILOSTRATE +So please your Grace, the Prologue is addressed. + +THESEUS Let him approach. + +[Enter the Prologue.] + + +PROLOGUE +If we offend, it is with our goodwill. + That you should think we come not to offend, +But with goodwill. To show our simple skill, + That is the true beginning of our end. +Consider, then, we come but in despite. + We do not come, as minding to content you, +Our true intent is. All for your delight + We are not here. That you should here repent + you, +The actors are at hand, and, by their show, +You shall know all that you are like to know. +[Prologue exits.] + +THESEUS This fellow doth not stand upon points. + +LYSANDER He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; +he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is +not enough to speak, but to speak true. + +HIPPOLYTA Indeed he hath played on this prologue like +a child on a recorder--a sound, but not in +government. + +THESEUS His speech was like a tangled chain--nothing +impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? + +[Enter Pyramus (Bottom), and Thisbe (Flute), and +Wall (Snout), and Moonshine (Starveling), and Lion +(Snug), and Prologue (Quince).] + + +QUINCE, [as Prologue] +Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show. + But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. +This man is Pyramus, if you would know. + This beauteous lady Thisbe is certain. +This man with lime and roughcast doth present + "Wall," that vile wall which did these lovers + sunder; +And through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are +content + To whisper, at the which let no man wonder. +This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn, + Presenteth "Moonshine," for, if you will know, +By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn + To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo. +This grisly beast (which "Lion" hight by name) + The trusty Thisbe coming first by night +Did scare away or rather did affright; +And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall, + Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain. +Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall, + And finds his trusty Thisbe's mantle slain. +Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, + He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast. +And Thisbe, tarrying in mulberry shade, + His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, +Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain +At large discourse, while here they do remain. + +THESEUS I wonder if the lion be to speak. + +DEMETRIUS No wonder, my lord. One lion may when +many asses do. +[Lion, Thisbe, Moonshine, and Prologue exit.] + +SNOUT, [as Wall] +In this same interlude it doth befall +That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; +And such a wall as I would have you think +That had in it a crannied hole or chink, +Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe, +Did whisper often, very secretly. +This loam, this roughcast, and this stone doth show +That I am that same wall. The truth is so. +And this the cranny is, right and sinister, +Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper. + +THESEUS Would you desire lime and hair to speak +better? + +DEMETRIUS It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard +discourse, my lord. + +THESEUS Pyramus draws near the wall. Silence. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +O grim-looked night! O night with hue so black! + O night, which ever art when day is not! +O night! O night! Alack, alack, alack! + I fear my Thisbe's promise is forgot. +And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, + That stand'st between her father's ground and + mine, +Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, + Show me thy chink to blink through with mine + eyne. +Thanks, courteous wall. Jove shield thee well for +this. + But what see I? No Thisbe do I see. +O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss, + Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me! + +THESEUS The wall, methinks, being sensible, should +curse again. + +BOTTOM No, in truth, sir, he should not. "Deceiving +me" is Thisbe's cue. She is to enter now, and I am +to spy her through the wall. You shall see it will fall +pat as I told you. Yonder she comes. + +[Enter Thisbe (Flute).] + + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans + For parting my fair Pyramus and me. +My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones, + Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +I see a voice! Now will I to the chink + To spy an I can hear my Thisbe's face. +Thisbe? + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +My love! Thou art my love, I think. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] + Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace, +And, like Limander, am I trusty still. + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true. + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall. + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway? + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +'Tide life, 'tide death, I come without delay. +[Bottom and Flute exit.] + +SNOUT, [as Wall] +Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so, +And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [He exits.] + +THESEUS Now is the wall down between the two +neighbors. + +DEMETRIUS No remedy, my lord, when walls are so +willful to hear without warning. + +HIPPOLYTA This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. + +THESEUS The best in this kind are but shadows, and +the worst are no worse, if imagination amend +them. + +HIPPOLYTA It must be your imagination, then, and not +theirs. + +THESEUS If we imagine no worse of them than they of +themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here +come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion. + +[Enter Lion (Snug) and Moonshine (Starveling).] + + +SNUG, [as Lion] +You ladies, you whose gentle hearts do fear + The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on + floor, +May now perchance both quake and tremble here, + When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. +Then know that I, as Snug the joiner, am +A lion fell, nor else no lion's dam; +For if I should as lion come in strife +Into this place, 'twere pity on my life. + +THESEUS A very gentle beast, and of a good +conscience. + +DEMETRIUS The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I +saw. + +LYSANDER This lion is a very fox for his valor. + +THESEUS True, and a goose for his discretion. + +DEMETRIUS Not so, my lord, for his valor cannot carry +his discretion, and the fox carries the goose. + +THESEUS His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his +valor, for the goose carries not the fox. It is well. +Leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the +Moon. + +STARVELING, [as Moonshine] +This lanthorn doth the horned moon present. + +DEMETRIUS He should have worn the horns on his +head. + +THESEUS He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible +within the circumference. + +STARVELING, [as Moonshine] +This lanthorn doth the horned moon present. +Myself the man i' th' moon do seem to be. + +THESEUS This is the greatest error of all the rest; the +man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else +"the man i' th' moon"? + +DEMETRIUS He dares not come there for the candle, +for you see, it is already in snuff. + +HIPPOLYTA I am aweary of this moon. Would he would +change. + +THESEUS It appears by his small light of discretion that +he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, +we must stay the time. + +LYSANDER Proceed, Moon. + +STARVELING, [as Moonshine] All that I have to say is to tell +you that the lanthorn is the moon, I the man i' th' +moon, this thornbush my thornbush, and this dog +my dog. + +DEMETRIUS Why, all these should be in the lanthorn, +for all these are in the moon. But silence. Here +comes Thisbe. + +[Enter Thisbe (Flute).] + + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] +This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love? + +SNUG, [as Lion] O! +[The Lion roars. Thisbe runs off, +dropping her mantle.] + +DEMETRIUS Well roared, Lion. + +THESEUS Well run, Thisbe. + +HIPPOLYTA Well shone, Moon. Truly, the Moon shines +with a good grace. +[Lion worries the mantle.] + +THESEUS Well moused, Lion. + +[Enter Pyramus (Bottom).] + + +DEMETRIUS And then came Pyramus. +[Lion exits.] + +LYSANDER And so the lion vanished. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams. + I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright, +For by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams, + I trust to take of truest Thisbe sight.-- + But stay! O spite! + But mark, poor knight, + What dreadful dole is here! + Eyes, do you see! + How can it be! + O dainty duck! O dear! + Thy mantle good-- + What, stained with blood? + Approach, ye Furies fell! + O Fates, come, come, + Cut thread and thrum, + Quail, crush, conclude, and quell! + +THESEUS This passion, and the death of a dear friend, +would go near to make a man look sad. + +HIPPOLYTA Beshrew my heart but I pity the man. + +BOTTOM, [as Pyramus] +O, wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame, + Since lion vile hath here deflowered my dear, +Which is--no, no--which was the fairest dame + That lived, that loved, that liked, that looked with + cheer? + Come, tears, confound! + Out, sword, and wound + The pap of Pyramus; + Ay, that left pap, + Where heart doth hop. [Pyramus stabs himself.] + Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. + Now am I dead; + Now am I fled; + My soul is in the sky. + Tongue, lose thy light! + Moon, take thy flight! [Moonshine exits.] + Now die, die, die, die, die. [Pyramus falls.] + +DEMETRIUS No die, but an ace for him, for he is but +one. + +LYSANDER Less than an ace, man, for he is dead, he is +nothing. + +THESEUS With the help of a surgeon he might yet +recover and yet prove an ass. + +HIPPOLYTA How chance Moonshine is gone before +Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? + +THESEUS She will find him by starlight. + +[Enter Thisbe (Flute).] + +Here she comes, and her passion ends the play. + +HIPPOLYTA Methinks she should not use a long one for +such a Pyramus. I hope she will be brief. + +DEMETRIUS A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, +which Thisbe, is the better: he for a man, God +warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us. + +LYSANDER She hath spied him already with those +sweet eyes. + +DEMETRIUS And thus she means, videlicet-- + +FLUTE, [as Thisbe] + Asleep, my love? + What, dead, my dove? + O Pyramus, arise! + Speak, speak. Quite dumb? + Dead? Dead? A tomb + Must cover thy sweet eyes. + These lily lips, + This cherry nose, + These yellow cowslip cheeks + Are gone, are gone! + Lovers, make moan; + His eyes were green as leeks. + O Sisters Three, + Come, come to me + With hands as pale as milk. + Lay them in gore, + Since you have shore + With shears his thread of silk. + Tongue, not a word! + Come, trusty sword, + Come, blade, my breast imbrue! +[Thisbe stabs herself.] + And farewell, friends. + Thus Thisbe ends. + Adieu, adieu, adieu. [Thisbe falls.] + +THESEUS Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the +dead. + +DEMETRIUS Ay, and Wall too. +[Bottom and Flute arise.] + +BOTTOM No, I assure you, the wall is down that +parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the +Epilogue or to hear a Bergomask dance between +two of our company? + +THESEUS No epilogue, I pray you. For your play needs +no excuse. Never excuse. For when the players are +all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if +he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged +himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine +tragedy; and so it is, truly, and very notably discharged. +But, come, your Bergomask. Let your +epilogue alone. +[Dance, and the players exit.] +The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. +Lovers, to bed! 'Tis almost fairy time. +I fear we shall outsleep the coming morn +As much as we this night have overwatched. +This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled +The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. +A fortnight hold we this solemnity +In nightly revels and new jollity. [They exit.] + +[Enter Robin Goodfellow.] + + +ROBIN + Now the hungry lion roars, + And the wolf behowls the moon, + Whilst the heavy plowman snores, + All with weary task fordone. + Now the wasted brands do glow, + Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, + Puts the wretch that lies in woe + In remembrance of a shroud. + Now it is the time of night + That the graves, all gaping wide, + Every one lets forth his sprite + In the church-way paths to glide. + And we fairies, that do run + By the triple Hecate's team + From the presence of the sun, + Following darkness like a dream, + Now are frolic. Not a mouse + Shall disturb this hallowed house. + I am sent with broom before, + To sweep the dust behind the door. + +[Enter Oberon and Titania, King and Queen of Fairies, +with all their train.] + + +OBERON + Through the house give glimmering light, + By the dead and drowsy fire. + Every elf and fairy sprite, + Hop as light as bird from brier, + And this ditty after me, + Sing and dance it trippingly. + +TITANIA + First rehearse your song by rote, + To each word a warbling note. + Hand in hand, with fairy grace, + Will we sing and bless this place. +[Oberon leads the Fairies in song and dance.] + +OBERON + Now, until the break of day, + Through this house each fairy stray. + To the best bride-bed will we, + Which by us shall blessed be, + And the issue there create + Ever shall be fortunate. + So shall all the couples three + Ever true in loving be, + And the blots of Nature's hand + Shall not in their issue stand. + Never mole, harelip, nor scar, + Nor mark prodigious, such as are + Despised in nativity, + Shall upon their children be. + With this field-dew consecrate + Every fairy take his gait, + And each several chamber bless, + Through this palace, with sweet peace. + And the owner of it blest, + Ever shall in safety rest. + Trip away. Make no stay. + Meet me all by break of day. +[All but Robin exit.] + +ROBIN + If we shadows have offended, + Think but this and all is mended: + That you have but slumbered here + While these visions did appear. + And this weak and idle theme, + No more yielding but a dream, + Gentles, do not reprehend. + If you pardon, we will mend. + And, as I am an honest Puck, + If we have unearned luck + Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, + We will make amends ere long. + Else the Puck a liar call. + So good night unto you all. + Give me your hands, if we be friends, + And Robin shall restore amends. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/alls-well-that-ends-well_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/alls-well-that-ends-well_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60284e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/alls-well-that-ends-well_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4570 @@ +All's Well That Ends Well +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/alls-well-that-ends-well/ +Created on Mar 14, 2018, from FDT version 0.9.2.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +HELEN, a gentlewoman of Rossillion +BERTRAM, Count of Rossillion +COUNTESS of Rossillion, Bertram's mother +In the Countess's household: + STEWARD + FOOL + PAGE +PAROLLES, companion to Bertram +KING of France +LAFEW, a French lord +Later Captains in the army of the Duke of Florence: + FIRST LORD + SECOND LORD +Other LORDS in the court of the King of France +From the court of the King of France: + FIRST GENTLEMAN + SECOND GENTLEMAN + GENTLEMAN, a "gentle Astringer" +FIRST SOLDIER, interpreter +The DUKE of Florence +A WIDOW of Florence +DIANA, the Widow's daughter +MARIANA, the Widow's neighbor +Attendants, Soldiers, Citizens of Florence, Servants + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter young Bertram Count of Rossillion, his mother +the Countess, and Helen, Lord Lafew, all in black.] + + +COUNTESS In delivering my son from me, I bury a second +husband. + +BERTRAM And I in going, madam, weep o'er my +father's death anew; but I must attend his Majesty's +command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore +in subjection. + +LAFEW You shall find of the King a husband, madam; +you, sir, a father. He that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you, +whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted +rather than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS What hope is there of his Majesty's +amendment? + +LAFEW He hath abandoned his physicians, madam, +under whose practices he hath persecuted time +with hope, and finds no other advantage in the +process but only the losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS This young gentlewoman had a father--O, +that "had," how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill +was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched +so far, would have made nature immortal, and +death should have play for lack of work. Would for +the King's sake he were living! I think it would be +the death of the King's disease. + +LAFEW How called you the man you speak of, +madam? + +COUNTESS He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it +was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEW He was excellent indeed, madam. The King +very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly. +He was skillful enough to have lived still, if +knowledge could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM What is it, my good lord, the King languishes +of? + +LAFEW A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM I heard not of it before. + +LAFEW I would it were not notorious.--Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to +my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good +that her education promises. Her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an +unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity--they are virtues and +traitors too. In her they are the better for their simpleness. +She derives her honesty and achieves her +goodness. + +LAFEW Your commendations, madam, get from her +tears. + +COUNTESS 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her +praise in. The remembrance of her father never +approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows +takes all livelihood from her cheek.--No +more of this, Helena. Go to. No more, lest it be +rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have-- + +HELEN I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEW Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS If the living be enemy to the grief, the +excess makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEW How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blessed, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners as in shape. Thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright. Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none. Be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key Be checked for silence, +But never taxed for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head. [To Lafew.] Farewell, my lord. +'Tis an unseasoned courtier. Good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEW He cannot want the best that shall +Attend his love. + +COUNTESS Heaven bless him.--Farewell, Bertram. + +BERTRAM The best wishes that can be forged in your +thoughts be servants to you. [Countess exits.] +[To Helen.] Be comfortable to my mother, your +mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEW Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the credit +of your father. [Bertram and Lafew exit.] + +HELEN +O, were that all! I think not on my father, +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him. My imagination +Carries no favor in 't but Bertram's. +I am undone. There is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me. +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, +To see him every hour, to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls +In our heart's table--heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favor. +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here? + +[Enter Parolles.] + +One that goes with him. I love him for his sake, +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward. +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him +That they take place when virtue's steely bones +Looks bleak i' th' cold wind. Withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES Save you, fair queen. + +HELEN And you, monarch. + +PAROLLES No. + +HELEN And no. + +PAROLLES Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELEN Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let +me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity. +How may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES Keep him out. + +HELEN But he assails, and our virginity, though +valiant in the defense, yet is weak. Unfold to us +some warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES There is none. Man setting down before you +will undermine you and blow you up. + +HELEN Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers-up! Is there no military policy how virgins +might blow up men? + +PAROLLES Virginity being blown down, man will +quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him +down again, with the breach yourselves made you +lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth +of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity +is rational increase, and there was never +virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you +were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by +being once lost may be ten times found; by being +ever kept, it is ever lost. 'Tis too cold a companion. +Away with 't. + +HELEN I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I +die a virgin. + +PAROLLES There's little can be said in 't. 'Tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is +to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin; +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese, consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by +'t. Out with 't! Within ten year it will make itself +two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal +itself not much the worse. Away with 't! + +HELEN How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own +liking? + +PAROLLES Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er +it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth. Off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity, +like an old courtier, wears her cap out of +fashion, richly suited but unsuitable, just like the +brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now. +Your date is better in your pie and your porridge +than in your cheek. And your virginity, your old +virginity, is like one of our French withered pears: +it looks ill, it eats dryly; marry, 'tis a withered pear. +It was formerly better, marry, yet 'tis a withered +pear. Will you anything with it? + +HELEN Not my virginity, yet-- +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother, and a mistress, and a friend, +A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counselor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world +Of pretty, fond adoptious christendoms +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well. +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES What one, i' faith? + +HELEN That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES What's pity? + +HELEN +That wishing well had not a body in 't +Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends +And show what we alone must think, which never +Returns us thanks. + +[Enter Page.] + + +PAGE Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +PAROLLES Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember +thee, I will think of thee at court. + +HELEN Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a +charitable star. + +PAROLLES Under Mars, I. + +HELEN I especially think under Mars. + +PAROLLES Why under Mars? + +HELEN The wars hath so kept you under that you +must needs be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES When he was predominant. + +HELEN When he was retrograde, I think rather. + +PAROLLES Why think you so? + +HELEN You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES That's for advantage. + +HELEN So is running away, when fear proposes the +safety. But the composition that your valor and +fear makes in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I +like the wear well. + +PAROLLES I am so full of businesses I cannot answer +thee acutely. I will return perfect courtier, in the +which my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel +and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee, else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away. Farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends. Get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee. So, farewell. +[Parolles and Page exit.] + +HELEN +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie +Which we ascribe to heaven. The fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove +To show her merit that did miss her love? +The King's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fixed and will not leave me. +[She exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, +two Lords, and divers Attendants.] + + +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears, +Have fought with equal fortune, and continue +A braving war. + +FIRST LORD So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible. We here receive it +A certainty vouched from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid, wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +FIRST LORD His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your Majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING He hath armed our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes. +Yet for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +SECOND LORD It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +[Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.] + + +KING What's he comes here? + +FIRST LORD +It is the Count Rossillion, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face. +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too. Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your Majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership. He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest. He lasted long, +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +Today in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honor. +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honor, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obeyed his hand. Who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bowed his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times, +Which, followed well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb. +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scattered not in ears, but grafted them +To grow there and to bear. "Let me not live"-- +This his good melancholy oft began +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out--"Let me not live," quoth he, +"After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain, whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments, whose constancies +Expire before their fashions." This he wished. +I, after him, do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive +To give some laborers room. + +SECOND LORD You're loved, sir. +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know 't.--How long is 't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet.-- +Lend me an arm.--The rest have worn me out +With several applications. Nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count. +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM Thank your Majesty. +[They exit. Flourish.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Countess, Steward, and Fool.] + + +COUNTESS I will now hear. What say you of this +gentlewoman? + +STEWARD Madam, the care I have had to even your +content I wish might be found in the calendar of +my past endeavors, for then we wound our modesty +and make foul the clearness of our deservings +when of ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS What does this knave here? [To Fool.] Get +you gone, sirrah. The complaints I have heard of +you I do not all believe. 'Tis my slowness that I do +not, for I know you lack not folly to commit them +and have ability enough to make such knaveries +yours. + +FOOL 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor +fellow. + +COUNTESS Well, sir. + +FOOL No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, +though many of the rich are damned. But if I may +have your Ladyship's good will to go to the world, +Isbel the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +FOOL I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS In what case? + +FOOL In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no heritage, +and I think I shall never have the blessing of +God till I have issue o' my body, for they say bairns +are blessings. + +COUNTESS Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +FOOL My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven +on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil +drives. + +COUNTESS Is this all your Worship's reason? + +FOOL Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such +as they are. + +COUNTESS May the world know them? + +FOOL I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you +and all flesh and blood are, and indeed I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness. + +FOOL I am out o' friends, madam, and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +FOOL You're shallow, madam, in great friends, for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary +of. He that ears my land spares my team and gives +me leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves +my flesh and blood is my friend. Ergo, he that +kisses my wife is my friend. If men could be contented +to be what they are, there were no fear in +marriage, for young Charbon the Puritan and old +Poysam the Papist, howsome'er their hearts are +severed in religion, their heads are both one; they +may jowl horns together like any deer i' th' herd. + +COUNTESS Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and +calumnious knave? + +FOOL A prophet I, madam, and I speak the truth the +next way: +[Sings.] For I the ballad will repeat + Which men full true shall find: + Your marriage comes by destiny; + Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS Get you gone, sir. I'll talk with you more +anon. + +STEWARD May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen +come to you. Of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak +with her--Helen, I mean. + +FOOL [sings] + "Was this fair face the cause," quoth she, + "Why the Grecians sacked Troy? + Fond done, done fond. + Was this King Priam's joy?" + With that she sighed as she stood, + With that she sighed as she stood, + And gave this sentence then: + "Among nine bad if one be good, + Among nine bad if one be good, + There's yet one good in ten." + +COUNTESS What, one good in ten? You corrupt the +song, sirrah. + +FOOL One good woman in ten, madam, which is a +purifying o' th' song. Would God would serve the +world so all the year! We'd find no fault with the +tithe-woman if I were the parson. One in ten, +quoth he? An we might have a good woman born +but or every blazing star or at an earthquake, +'twould mend the lottery well. A man may draw his +heart out ere he pluck one. + +COUNTESS You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command +you! + +FOOL That man should be at woman's command, and +yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no Puritan, +yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth. The business is for Helen to come +hither. [He exits.] + +COUNTESS Well, now. + +STEWARD I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman +entirely. + +COUNTESS Faith, I do. Her father bequeathed her to +me, and she herself, without other advantage, may +lawfully make title to as much love as she finds. +There is more owing her than is paid, and more +shall be paid her than she'll demand. + +STEWARD Madam, I was very late more near her than I +think she wished me. Alone she was and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own +ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched +not any stranger sense. Her matter was she loved +your son. Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that +had put such difference betwixt their two estates; +Love no god, that would not extend his might only +where qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, +that would suffer her poor knight surprised +without rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch +of sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in, which +I held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal, +sithence in the loss that may happen it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS You have discharged this honestly. Keep it +to yourself. Many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tott'ring in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you +leave me. Stall this in your bosom, and I thank you +for your honest care. I will speak with you further +anon. [Steward exits.] + +[Enter Helen.] + +[Aside.] +Even so it was with me when I was young. + If ever we are nature's, these are ours. This thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong. + Our blood to us, this to our blood is born. +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impressed in youth. +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on 't, I observe her now. + +HELEN What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, I am a mother to you. + +HELEN +Mine honorable mistress. + +COUNTESS Nay, a mother. +Why not a mother? When I said "a mother," +Methought you saw a serpent. What's in "mother" +That you start at it? I say I am your mother +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds. +You ne'er oppressed me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care. +God's mercy, maiden, does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distempered messenger of wet, +The many-colored Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? That you are my daughter? + +HELEN That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say I am your mother. + +HELEN Pardon, madam. +The Count Rossillion cannot be my brother. +I am from humble, he from honored name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble. +My master, my dear lord he is, and I +His servant live and will his vassal die. +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS Nor I your mother? + +HELEN +You are my mother, madam. Would you were-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother-- +Indeed my mother! Or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can 't no other +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law. +God shield you mean it not! "Daughter" and "mother" +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catched your fondness! Now I see +The mystery of your loneliness and find +Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross: +You love my son. Invention is ashamed +Against the proclamation of thy passion +To say thou dost not. Therefore tell me true, +But tell me then 'tis so, for, look, thy cheeks +Confess it th' one to th' other, and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it. Only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue +That truth should be suspected. Speak. Is 't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear 't; howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +To tell me truly. + +HELEN Good madam, pardon me. + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELEN Your pardon, noble mistress. + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELEN Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about. My love hath in 't a bond +Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose +The state of your affection, for your passions +Have to the full appeached. + +HELEN, [kneeling] Then I confess +Here on my knee before high heaven and you +That before you and next unto high heaven +I love your son. +My friends were poor but honest; so 's my love. +Be not offended, for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me. I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit, +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him, +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope, +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun that looks upon his worshipper +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do; but if yourself, +Whose aged honor cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and Love, O then give pity +To her whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies. + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent--speak truly-- +To go to Paris? + +HELEN Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS Wherefore? +Tell true. + +HELEN, [standing] +I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he willed me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note. Amongst the rest +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The King is rendered lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive for Paris, was it? Speak. + +HELEN +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? He and his physicians +Are of a mind: he that they cannot help him, +They that they cannot help. How shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools +Emboweled of their doctrine have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELEN There's something in 't +More than my father's skill, which was the great'st +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and would your +Honor +But give me leave to try success, I'd venture +The well-lost life of mine on his Grace's cure +By such a day, an hour. + +COUNTESS Dost thou believe 't? + +HELEN Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants, and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court. I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt. +Be gone tomorrow, and be sure of this: +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish cornets. Enter the King, attended, with divers +young Lords, taking leave for the Florentine war; +Bertram Count Rossillion, and Parolles.] + + +KING +Farewell, young lords. These warlike principles +Do not throw from you.--And you, my lords, +farewell. +Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain all, +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received +And is enough for both. + +FIRST LORD 'Tis our hope, sir, +After well-entered soldiers, to return +And find your Grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be. And yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords. +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen. Let higher Italy-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy--see that you come +Not to woo honor but to wed it. When +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud. I say farewell. + +FIRST LORD +Health at your bidding serve your Majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them. +They say our French lack language to deny +If they demand. Beware of being captives +Before you serve. + +LORDS Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING Farewell.--Come hither to me. +[The King speaks to Attendants, while Bertram, +Parolles, and other Lords come forward.] + +FIRST LORD, [to Bertram] +O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +SECOND LORD O, 'tis brave wars. + +PAROLLES +Most admirable. I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here and kept a coil +With "Too young," and "The next year," and "'Tis +too early." + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to 't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry +Till honor be bought up, and no sword worn +But one to dance with. By heaven, I'll steal away! + +FIRST LORD +There's honor in the theft. + +PAROLLES Commit it, count. + +SECOND LORD +I am your accessory. And so, farewell. + +BERTRAM I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured +body. + +FIRST LORD Farewell, captain. + +SECOND LORD Sweet Monsieur Parolles. + +PAROLLES Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. +Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals. +You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one +Captain Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of +war, here on his sinister cheek. It was this very +sword entrenched it. Say to him I live, and observe +his reports for me. + +FIRST LORD We shall, noble captain. + +PAROLLES Mars dote on you for his novices. +[Lords exit.] +[To Bertram.] What will you do? + +BERTRAM Stay the King. + +PAROLLES Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble +lords. You have restrained yourself within the list +of too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, +for they wear themselves in the cap of the time; +there do muster true gait; eat, speak, and move +under the influence of the most received star, and, +though the devil lead the measure, such are to be +followed. After them, and take a more dilated +farewell. + +BERTRAM And I will do so. + +PAROLLES Worthy fellows, and like to prove most +sinewy swordmen. [Bertram and Parolles exit.] + +[Enter Lafew, to the King.] + + +LAFEW, [kneeling] +Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEW, [standing] +Then here's a man stands that has brought his +pardon. +I would you had kneeled, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had, so I had broke thy pate +And asked thee mercy for 't. + +LAFEW Good faith, across. +But, my good lord, 'tis thus: will you be cured +Of your infirmity? + +KING No. + +LAFEW O, will you eat +No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will +My noble grapes, an if my royal fox +Could reach them. I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch +Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay, +To give great Charlemagne a pen in 's hand +And write to her a love line. + +KING What "her" is this? + +LAFEW +Why, Doctor She. My lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honor, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom, and constancy hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her-- +For that is her demand--and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING Now, good Lafew, +Bring in the admiration, that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wond'ring how thou took'st it. + +LAFEW Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. +[He goes to bring in Helen.] + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +[Enter Helen.] + + +LAFEW, [to Helen] Nay, come your ways. + +KING This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEW Nay, come your ways. +This is his Majesty. Say your mind to him. +A traitor you do look like, but such traitors +His Majesty seldom fears. I am Cressid's uncle +That dare leave two together. Fare you well. +[He exits.] + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELEN Ay, my good lord, +Gerard de Narbon was my father, +In what he did profess well found. + +KING I knew him. + +HELEN +The rather will I spare my praises towards him. +Knowing him is enough. On 's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one +Which, as the dearest issue of his practice, +And of his old experience th' only darling, +He bade me store up as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear. I have so, +And hearing your high Majesty is touched +With that malignant cause wherein the honor +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING We thank you, maiden, +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That laboring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate. I say we must not +So stain our judgment or corrupt our hope +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELEN +My duty, then, shall pay me for my pains. +I will no more enforce mine office on you, +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one to bear me back again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful. +Thou thought'st to help me, and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live. +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELEN +What I can do can do no hurt to try +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister. +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown +When judges have been babes. Great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the great'st been denied. +Oft expectation fails, and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most shifts. + +KING +I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid. +Thy pains, not used, must by thyself be paid. +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELEN +Inspired merit so by breath is barred. +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavors give consent. +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim, +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Art thou so confident? Within what space +Hop'st thou my cure? + +HELEN The greatest grace lending grace, +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring; +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quenched her sleepy lamp; +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes, how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free, and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What dar'st thou venture? + +HELEN Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame; +Traduced by odious ballads, my maiden's name +Seared otherwise; nay, worse of worst, extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak, +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate: +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call. +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practicer, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELEN +If I break time or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved. Not helping, death's my fee. +But if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELEN But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my scepter and my hopes of heaven. + +HELEN +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command. +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand. The premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served. +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust: +From whence thou cam'st, how tended on; but rest +Unquestioned welcome and undoubted blessed.-- +Give me some help here, ho!--If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. +[Flourish. They exit, the King assisted.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Countess and Fool.] + + +COUNTESS Come on, sir. I shall now put you to the +height of your breeding. + +FOOL I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS "To the court"? Why, what place make you +special when you put off that with such contempt? +"But to the court"? + +FOOL Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, +he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot +make a leg, put off 's cap, kiss his hand, and +say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; +and indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were +not for the court. But, for me, I have an answer +will serve all men. + +COUNTESS Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +FOOL It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks: +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, +or any buttock. + +COUNTESS Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +FOOL As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffety punk, as +Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for +Shrove Tuesday, a morris for May Day, as the nail +to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding +quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness +for all questions? + +FOOL From below your duke to beneath your constable, +it will fit any question. + +COUNTESS It must be an answer of most monstrous +size that must fit all demands. + +FOOL But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that +belongs to 't. Ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do +you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS To be young again, if we could! I will be a +fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your +answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +FOOL O Lord, sir!--There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS Sir, I am a poor friend of yours that loves +you. + +FOOL O Lord, sir!--Thick, thick. Spare not me. + +COUNTESS I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely +meat. + +FOOL O Lord, sir!--Nay, put me to 't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +FOOL O Lord, sir!--Spare not me. + +COUNTESS Do you cry "O Lord, sir!" at your whipping, +and "spare not me"? Indeed your "O Lord, sir!" is +very sequent to your whipping. You would answer +very well to a whipping if you were but bound to 't. + +FOOL I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my "O Lord, +sir!" I see things may serve long but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS I play the noble huswife with the time to +entertain it so merrily with a fool. + +FOOL O Lord, sir!--Why, there 't serves well again. + +COUNTESS, [giving him a paper] +An end, sir. To your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back. +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son. +This is not much. + +FOOL Not much commendation to them? + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you. You understand me. + +FOOL Most fruitfully. I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS Haste you again. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Count Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.] + + +LAFEW They say miracles are past, and we have our +philosophical persons to make modern and familiar +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it +that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge when we should +submit ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that +hath shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM And so 'tis. + +LAFEW To be relinquished of the artists-- + +PAROLLES So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +LAFEW Of all the learned and authentic fellows-- + +PAROLLES Right, so I say. + +LAFEW That gave him out incurable-- + +PAROLLES Why, there 'tis. So say I too. + +LAFEW Not to be helped. + +PAROLLES Right, as 'twere a man assured of a-- + +LAFEW Uncertain life and sure death. + +PAROLLES Just. You say well. So would I have said. + +LAFEW I may truly say it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES It is indeed. If you will have it in showing, +you shall read it in what-do-you-call there. +[He points to a paper in Lafew's hand.] + +LAFEW [reads] A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly +actor. + +PAROLLES That's it. I would have said the very same. + +LAFEW Why, your dolphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, I +speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinorous +spirit that will not acknowledge it to be +the-- + +LAFEW Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES Ay, so I say. + +LAFEW In a most weak-- + +PAROLLES And debile minister. Great power, great +transcendence, which should indeed give us a further +use to be made than alone the recov'ry of the +King, as to be-- + +LAFEW Generally thankful. + +[Enter King, Helen, and Attendants.] + + +PAROLLES I would have said it. You say well. Here +comes the King. + +LAFEW Lustig, as the Dutchman says. I'll like a maid +the better whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, +he's able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen? + +LAFEW 'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +[An Attendant exits.] +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side, +And with this healthful hand, whose banished sense +Thou hast repealed, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +[Enter three or four Court Lords.] + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use. Thy frank election make. +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELEN +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall when Love please! Marry, to each but one. + +LAFEW, [aside] +I'd give bay Curtal and his furniture +My mouth no more were broken than these boys' +And writ as little beard. + +KING Peruse them well. +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELEN Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the King to health. + +ALL +We understand it and thank heaven for you. + +HELEN +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest +That I protest I simply am a maid.-- +Please it your Majesty, I have done already. +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me: +"We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be +refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek forever; +We'll ne'er come there again." + +KING Make choice and see. +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELEN +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. [She addresses her to a Lord.] +Sir, will you hear my suit? + +FIRST COURT LORD +And grant it. + +HELEN Thanks, sir. All the +rest is mute. + +LAFEW, [aside] I had rather be in this choice than +throw ambs-ace for my life. + +HELEN, [to another Lord] +The honor, sir, that flames in your fair eyes +Before I speak too threat'ningly replies. +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes, and her humble love. + +SECOND COURT LORD +No better, if you please. + +HELEN My wish receive, +Which great Love grant, and so I take my leave. + +LAFEW, [aside] Do all they deny her? An they were sons +of mine, I'd have them whipped, or I would send +them to th' Turk to make eunuchs of. + +HELEN, [to another Lord] +Be not afraid that I your hand should take. +I'll never do you wrong, for your own sake. +Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed +Find fairer fortune if you ever wed. + +LAFEW, [aside] These boys are boys of ice; they'll none +have her. Sure they are bastards to the English; +the French ne'er got 'em. + +HELEN, [to another Lord] +You are too young, too happy, and too good +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +FOURTH COURT LORD Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEW, [aside] There's one grape yet. I am sure thy +father drunk wine. But if thou be'st not an ass, I +am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELEN, [to Bertram] +I dare not say I take you, but I give +Me and my service ever whilst I live +Into your guiding power.--This is the man. + +KING +Why then, young Bertram, take her. She's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your Highness +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING Know'st thou not, +Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM Yes, my good lord, +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well; +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife? Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of color, weight, and heat, poured all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislik'st-- +"A poor physician's daughter"--thou dislik'st +Of virtue for the name. But do not so. +From lowest place whence virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by th' doer's deed. +Where great additions swell 's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honor. Good alone +Is good, without a name; vileness is so; +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honor. That is honor's scorn +Which challenges itself as honor's born +And is not like the sire. Honors thrive +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers. The mere word's a slave +Debauched on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb +Of honored bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest. Virtue and she +Is her own dower, honor and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do 't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself if thou shouldst strive to +choose. + +HELEN +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad. +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honor's at the stake, which to defeat +I must produce my power.--Here, take her hand, +Proud, scornful boy, unworthy this good gift, +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know +It is in us to plant thine honor where +We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt; +Obey our will, which travails in thy good. +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims, +Or I will throw thee from my care forever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance, both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee in the name of justice +Without all terms of pity. Speak. Thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord, for I submit +My fancy to your eyes. When I consider +What great creation and what dole of honor +Flies where you bid it, I find that she which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base is now +The praised of the King, who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine, to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate, +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favor of the King +Smile upon this contract, whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief +And be performed tonight. The solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. +[They exit. Parolles and Lafew stay behind, +commenting of this wedding.] + +LAFEW Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you. + +PAROLLES Your pleasure, sir. + +LAFEW Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES "Recantation"? My "lord"? My "master"? + +LAFEW Ay. Is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES A most harsh one, and not to be understood +without bloody succeeding. My "master"? + +LAFEW Are you companion to the Count Rossillion? + +PAROLLES To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEW To what is count's man. Count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are +too old. + +LAFEW I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man, to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEW I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a +pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent +of thy travel; it might pass. Yet the scarves and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me +from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. +I have now found thee. When I lose thee again, I +care not. Yet art thou good for nothing but taking +up, and that thou 'rt scarce worth. + +PAROLLES Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity +upon thee-- + +LAFEW Do not plunge thyself too far in anger lest thou +hasten thy trial, which if--Lord have mercy on +thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare +thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES My lord, you give me most egregious +indignity. + +LAFEW Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEW Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it, and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEW Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to +pull at a smack o' th' contrary. If ever thou be'st +bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find +what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a +desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or +rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default +"He is a man I know." + +PAROLLES My lord, you do me most insupportable +vexation. + +LAFEW I would it were hell pains for thy sake, and my +poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by +thee in what motion age will give me leave. +[He exits.] + +PAROLLES Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace +off me. Scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll +beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any +convenience, an he were double and double a lord. +I'll have no more pity of his age than I would have +of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +[Enter Lafew.] + + +LAFEW Sirrah, your lord and master's married. There's +news for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES I most unfeignedly beseech your Lordship +to make some reservation of your wrongs. He is +my good lord; whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEW Who? God? + +PAROLLES Ay, sir. + +LAFEW The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? Dost make hose +of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou wert +best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By +mine honor, if I were but two hours younger, I'd +beat thee. Methink'st thou art a general offense, +and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES This is hard and undeserved measure, my +lord. + +LAFEW Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond, +and no true traveler. You are more saucy with +lords and honorable personages than the commission +of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. +You are not worth another word; else I'd call you +knave. I leave you. [He exits.] + +PAROLLES Good, very good! It is so, then. Good, very +good. Let it be concealed awhile. + +[Enter Bertram Count Rossillion.] + + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares forever! + +PAROLLES What's the matter, sweetheart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES What, what, sweetheart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars and never bed her. + +PAROLLES France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +the tread of a man's foot. To th' wars! + +BERTRAM There's letters from my mother. What th' +import is I know not yet. + +PAROLLES Ay, that would be known. To th' wars, my +boy, to th' wars! +He wears his honor in a box unseen +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions! +France is a stable, we that dwell in 't jades. +Therefore, to th' war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so. I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her +And wherefore I am fled, write to the King +That which I durst not speak. His present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields +Where noble fellows strike. Wars is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? Art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away. Tomorrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard. +A young man married is a man that's marred. +Therefore away, and leave her bravely. Go. +The King has done you wrong, but hush, 'tis so. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Helen with a paper, and Fool.] + + +HELEN My mother greets me kindly. Is she well? + +FOOL She is not well, but yet she has her health. She's +very merry, but yet she is not well. But, thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i' th' world, +but yet she is not well. + +HELEN If she be very well, what does she ail that she's +not very well? + +FOOL Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELEN What two things? + +FOOL One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send +her quickly; the other, that she's in Earth, from +whence God send her quickly. + +[Enter Parolles.] + + +PAROLLES Bless you, my fortunate lady. + +HELEN I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine +own good fortunes. + +PAROLLES You had my prayers to lead them on, and to +keep them on have them still.--O my knave, how +does my old lady? + +FOOL So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, I +would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES Why, I say nothing. + +FOOL Marry, you are the wiser man, for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to +have nothing is to be a great part of your title, +which is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES Away. Thou 'rt a knave. + +FOOL You should have said, sir, "Before a knave, +thou 'rt a knave"; that's "Before me, thou 'rt a +knave." This had been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES Go to. Thou art a witty fool. I have found +thee. + +FOOL Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you +taught to find me? + +PAROLLES ... + +FOOL The search, sir, was profitable, and much fool +may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure +and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away tonight; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which as your due time claims, he does acknowledge +But puts it off to a compelled restraint, +Whose want and whose delay is strewed with sweets, +Which they distill now in the curbed time +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELEN What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' th' King +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthened with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELEN What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtained, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELEN +In everything I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES I shall report it so. [Parolles exits.] + +HELEN, [to Fool] I pray you, come, sirrah. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Lafew and Bertram.] + + +LAFEW But I hope your Lordship thinks not him a +soldier. + +BERTRAM Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEW You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEW Then my dial goes not true. I took this lark for +a bunting. + +BERTRAM I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEW I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valor, and my state that +way is dangerous since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes. I pray you make us +friends. I will pursue the amity. + +[Enter Parolles.] + + +PAROLLES, [to Bertram] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEW, [to Bertram] Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES Sir? + +LAFEW O, I know him well. Ay, sir, he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM, [aside to Parolles] Is she gone to the King? + +PAROLLES She is. + +BERTRAM Will she away tonight? + +PAROLLES As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses, and tonight, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEW, [aside] A good traveler is something at the latter +end of a dinner, but one that lies three thirds, +and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings +with, should be once heard and thrice beaten.-- +God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM, [to Parolles] Is there any unkindness +between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES I know not how I have deserved to run into +my lord's displeasure. + +LAFEW You have made shift to run into 't, boots and +spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; +and out of it you'll run again rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEW And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of +me: there can be no kernel in this light nut. The +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence. I have kept of them +tame and know their natures.--Farewell, monsieur. +I have spoken better of you than you have or +will to deserve at my hand, but we must do good +against evil. [He exits.] + +PAROLLES An idle lord, I swear. + +BERTRAM I think not so. + +PAROLLES Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. + +[Enter Helen.] + +Here comes my clog. + +HELEN +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the King and have procured his leave +For present parting. Only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not color with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you +That presently you take your way for home, +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you; +For my respects are better than they seem, +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. [Giving her a paper.] +This to my mother. +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELEN Sir, I can nothing say +But that I am your most obedient servant-- + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELEN And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have failed +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM Let that go. +My haste is very great. Farewell. Hie home. + +HELEN +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM Well, what would you say? + +HELEN +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine--and yet it is-- +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM What would you have? + +HELEN +Something, and scarce so much; nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord. Faith, +yes: +Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELEN +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.-- +Where are my other men?--Monsieur, farewell. +[She exits.] + +BERTRAM +Go thou toward home, where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.-- +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES Bravely, coraggio! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two French +Lords, with a troop of Soldiers.] + + +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +FIRST LORD Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your Grace's part, black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +SECOND LORD Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield +But like a common and an outward man +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion; therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guessed. + +DUKE Be it his pleasure. + +FIRST LORD +But I am sure the younger of our nation, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE Welcome shall they be, +And all the honors that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well. +When better fall, for your avails they fell. +Tomorrow to th' field. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Countess, with a paper, and Fool.] + + +COUNTESS It hath happened all as I would have had it, +save that he comes not along with her. + +FOOL By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS By what observance, I pray you? + +FOOL Why, he will look upon his boot and sing, mend +the ruff and sing, ask questions and sing, pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS Let me see what he writes and when he +means to come. [She opens the letter.] + +FOOL I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our +old lings and our Isbels o' th' country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' th' court. The +brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS What have we here? + +FOOL E'en that you have there. [He exits.] + +COUNTESS [reads.] I have sent you a daughter-in-law. +She hath recovered the King and undone me. I have +wedded her, not bedded her, and sworn to make the +"not" eternal. You shall hear I am run away. Know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough in +the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to +you. + Your unfortunate son, +Bertram. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy: +To fly the favors of so good a king, +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +[Enter Fool.] + + +FOOL O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between +two soldiers and my young lady. + +COUNTESS What is the matter? + +FOOL Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort. Your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS Why should he be killed? + +FOOL So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he +does. The danger is in standing to 't; that's the loss +of men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more. For my part, I only +hear your son was run away. [He exits.] + +[Enter Helen, with a paper, and two Gentlemen.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN, [to Countess] Save you, good +madam. + +HELEN +Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience, pray you.--Gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief +That the first face of neither on the start +Can woman me unto 't. Where is my son, I pray you? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Florence. +We met him thitherward, for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELEN +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. +[She reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon +my finger, which never shall come off, and show me +a child begotten of thy body that I am father to, then +call me husband. But in such a "then" I write a +"never." +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Ay, madam, +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pains. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer. +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son, +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child.--Towards Florence is he? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS And to be a soldier? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Such is his noble purpose, and, believe 't, +The Duke will lay upon him all the honor +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS Return you thither? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELEN [reads] +Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS Find you that there? + +HELEN Ay, madam. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, +Which his heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she, and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS Parolles was it not? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS You're welcome, +gentlemen. +I will entreat you when you see my son +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honor that he loses. More I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near? +[She exits with the Gentlemen.] + +HELEN +"Till I have no wife I have nothing in France." +Nothing in France until he has no wife. +Thou shalt have none, Rossillion, none in France. +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is 't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? And is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-'pearing air +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to 't; +And though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected. Better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roared +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rossillion, +Whence honor but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all. I will be gone. +My being here it is that holds thee hence. +Shall I stay here to do 't? No, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all. I will be gone, +That pitiful rumor may report my flight +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day; +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram Count +Rossillion, Drum and Trumpets, Soldiers, Parolles.] + + +DUKE, [to Bertram] +The general of our horse thou art, and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To th' extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE Then go thou forth, +And Fortune play upon thy prosperous helm +As thy auspicious mistress. + +BERTRAM This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file. +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. +[All exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Countess and Steward, with a paper.] + + +COUNTESS +Alas! And would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +STEWARD [reads the letter] + I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone. + Ambitious love hath so in me offended + That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, + With sainted vow my faults to have amended. + Write, write, that from the bloody course of war + My dearest master, your dear son, may hie. + Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far + His name with zealous fervor sanctify. + His taken labors bid him me forgive; + I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth + From courtly friends, with camping foes to live + Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth. + He is too good and fair for death and me, + Whom I myself embrace to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much +As letting her pass so. Had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +STEWARD Pardon me, madam. +If I had given you this at overnight, +She might have been o'erta'en. And yet she writes +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? He cannot thrive +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife. +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light. My greatest grief, +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger. +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love. Which of them both +Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense +To make distinction. Provide this messenger. +My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak. +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[A tucket afar off. Enter old Widow of Florence, her +daughter Diana, and Mariana, with other Citizens.] + + +WIDOW Nay, come, for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA They say the French count has done most honorable +service. + +WIDOW It is reported that he has taken their great'st +commander, and that with his own hand he slew +the Duke's brother. [A trumpet sounds.] We have +lost our labor. They are gone a contrary way. Hark, +you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA Come, let's return again and suffice ourselves +with the report of it.--Well, Diana, take heed of +this French earl. The honor of a maid is her name, +and no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +WIDOW, [to Diana] I have told my neighbor how you +have been solicited by a gentleman, his +companion. + +MARIANA I know that knave, hang him! One Parolles, a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl.--Beware of them, Diana. Their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these +engines of lust are not the things they go under. +Many a maid hath been seduced by them; and +the misery is example that so terrible shows in the +wrack of maidenhood cannot for all that dissuade +succession, but that they are limed with the twigs +that threatens them. I hope I need not to advise +you further, but I hope your own grace will keep +you where you are, though there were no further +danger known but the modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA You shall not need to fear me. + +WIDOW I hope so. + +[Enter Helen as a pilgrim.] + +Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another. I'll question +her.--God save you, pilgrim. Whither are +bound? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +WIDOW +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] Is this the way? [A march afar.] + +WIDOW +Ay, marry, is 't.--Hark you, they come this way.-- +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged, +The rather for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] Is it yourself? + +WIDOW If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +WIDOW +You came I think from France? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] I did so. + +WIDOW +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] His name, I pray you? + +DIANA +The Count Rossillion. Know you such a one? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him. +His face I know not. + +DIANA Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the King had married him +Against his liking. Think you it is so? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] +Ay, surely, mere the truth. I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the Count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] O, I believe with him. +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated. All her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA Alas, poor lady, +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +WIDOW +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do +her +A shrewd turn if she pleased. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] How do you mean? +Maybe the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose? + +WIDOW He does indeed, +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honor of a maid, +But she is armed for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defense. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +[Drum and Colors. Enter Bertram Count Rossillion, +Parolles, and the whole Army.] + + +WIDOW So, now they come. +That is Antonio, the Duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA He, +That with the plume. 'Tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife. If he were honester, +He were much goodlier. Is 't not a handsome +gentleman? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest. Yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places. Were I his lady, +I would poison that vile rascal. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] Which is he? + +DIANA +That jackanapes with scarves. Why is he melancholy? + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] Perchance he's hurt i' th' battle. + +PAROLLES Lose our drum? Well. + +MARIANA He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he +has spied us. + +WIDOW, [to Parolles] Marry, hang you. + +MARIANA, [to Parolles] And your courtesy, for a +ring-carrier. +[Bertram, Parolles, and the army exit.] + +WIDOW +The troop is passed. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host. Of enjoined penitents +There's four or five, to Great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELEN, [as pilgrim] I humbly thank you. +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us tonight, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me. And to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH We'll take your offer kindly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Bertram Count Rossillion and the French +Lords, as at first.] + + +FIRST LORD Nay, good my lord, put him to 't. Let him +have his way. + +SECOND LORD If your Lordship find him not a hilding, +hold me no more in your respect. + +FIRST LORD On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +FIRST LORD Believe it, my lord. In mine own direct +knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of +him as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, +an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, +the owner of no one good quality worthy +your Lordship's entertainment. + +SECOND LORD It were fit you knew him, lest, reposing +too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might +at some great and trusty business in a main danger +fail you. + +BERTRAM I would I knew in what particular action to +try him. + +SECOND LORD None better than to let him fetch off his +drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake +to do. + +FIRST LORD I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him. Such I will have whom I am sure +he knows not from the enemy. We will bind and +hoodwink him so, that he shall suppose no other +but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversary's +when we bring him to our own tents. Be but +your Lordship present at his examination. If he do +not for the promise of his life, and in the highest +compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you and +deliver all the intelligence in his power against +you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul +upon oath, never trust my judgment in anything. + +SECOND LORD O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch +his drum. He says he has a stratagem for 't. When +your Lordship sees the bottom of his success in +'t, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore +will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +[Enter Parolles.] + + +FIRST LORD, [aside to Bertram] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honor of his design. Let him +fetch off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM, [to Parolles] How now, monsieur? This +drum sticks sorely in your disposition. + +SECOND LORD A pox on 't! Let it go. 'Tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES But a drum! Is 't but a drum? A drum so +lost! There was excellent command, to charge in +with our horse upon our own wings and to rend +our own soldiers! + +SECOND LORD That was not to be blamed in the command +of the service. It was a disaster of war that +Caesar himself could not have prevented if he had +been there to command. + +BERTRAM Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success. +Some dishonor we had in the loss of that +drum, but it is not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM It might, but it is not now. + +PAROLLES It is to be recovered. But that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +hic jacet. + +BERTRAM Why, if you have a stomach, to 't, monsieur! +If you think your mystery in stratagem can bring +this instrument of honor again into his native +quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprise and go +on. I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit. If +you speed well in it, the Duke shall both speak of it +and extend to you what further becomes his greatness, +even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES I'll about it this evening, and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM May I be bold to acquaint his Grace you are +gone about it? + +PAROLLES I know not what the success will be, my +lord, but the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM I know thou 'rt valiant, and to the possibility +of thy soldiership will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES I love not many words. [He exits.] + +FIRST LORD No more than a fish loves water. Is not this +a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business which he knows is not +to be done, damns himself to do, and dares better +be damned than to do 't? + +SECOND LORD You do not know him, my lord, as we do. +Certain it is that he will steal himself into a man's +favor and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries, +but when you find him out, you have him +ever after. + +BERTRAM Why, do you think he will make no deed at +all of this that so seriously he does address himself +unto? + +FIRST LORD None in the world, but return with an +invention and clap upon you two or three probable +lies. But we have almost embossed him. You shall +see his fall tonight; for indeed he is not for your +Lordship's respect. + +SECOND LORD We'll make you some sport with the fox +ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old +Lord Lafew. When his disguise and he is parted, +tell me what a sprat you shall find him, which you +shall see this very night. + +FIRST LORD I must go look my twigs. He shall be +caught. + +BERTRAM Your brother he shall go along with me. + +FIRST LORD As 't please your Lordship. I'll leave you. +[He exits.] + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +SECOND LORD But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault. I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold. But I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' th' wind, +Tokens and letters, which she did re-send. +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature. +Will you go see her? + +SECOND LORD With all my heart, my lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Helen and Widow.] + + +HELEN +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +WIDOW +Though my estate be fall'n, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses, +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELEN Nor would I wish you. +First give me trust the Count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +WIDOW I should believe you, +For you have showed me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELEN Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will overpay and pay again +When I have found it. The Count he woos your +daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her. Let her in fine consent +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will naught deny +That she'll demand. A ring the County wears +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it. This ring he holds +In most rich choice. Yet, in his idle fire, +To buy his will it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +WIDOW +Now I see the bottom of your purpose. + +HELEN +You see it lawful, then. It is no more +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring, appoints him an encounter, +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent. After, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +WIDOW I have yielded. +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves, for he persists +As if his life lay on 't. + +HELEN Why then tonight +Let us assay our plot, which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed, +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact. +But let's about it. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter one of the French Lords, with five or six other +Soldiers in ambush.] + + +LORD He can come no other way but by this hedge +corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will. Though you understand it +not yourselves, no matter. For we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom +we must produce for an interpreter. + +FIRST SOLDIER Good captain, let me be th' interpreter. + +LORD Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy +voice? + +FIRST SOLDIER No, sir, I warrant you. + +LORD But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to +us again? + +FIRST SOLDIER E'en such as you speak to me. + +LORD He must think us some band of strangers i' th' +adversary's entertainment. Now, he hath a smack +of all neighboring languages. Therefore we must +every one be a man of his own fancy, not to know +what we speak one to another. So we seem to know +is to know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough and good enough. As for +you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But +couch, ho! Here he comes to beguile two hours in +a sleep and then to return and swear the lies he +forges. [They move aside.] + +[Enter Parolles.] + + +PAROLLES Ten o'clock. Within these three hours 'twill +be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it. They begin to smoke me, and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy, but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +LORD, [aside] This is the first truth that e'er thine own +tongue was guilty of. + +PAROLLES What the devil should move me to undertake +the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant +of the impossibility and knowing I had no such +purpose? I must give myself some hurts and say I +got them in exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it. +They will say "Came you off with so little?" And +great ones I dare not give. Wherefore? What's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's +mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazeth's mule if you prattle me into these perils. + +LORD, [aside] Is it possible he should know what he is, +and be that he is? + +PAROLLES I would the cutting of my garments would +serve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish +sword. + +LORD, [aside] We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was +in stratagem. + +LORD, [aside] 'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES Or to drown my clothes and say I was +stripped. + +LORD, [aside] Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES Though I swore I leapt from the window of +the citadel-- + +LORD, [aside] How deep? + +PAROLLES Thirty fathom. + +LORD, [aside] Three great oaths would scarce make +that be believed. + +PAROLLES I would I had any drum of the enemy's. I +would swear I recovered it. + +LORD, [aside] You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES A drum, now, of the enemy's-- +[Alarum within.] + +LORD, [advancing] Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, +cargo. + +ALL Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. +[They seize him.] + +PAROLLES O ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes. +[They blindfold him.] + +FIRST SOLDIER Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment, +And I shall lose my life for want of language. +If there be here German or Dane, Low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me. +I'll discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +FIRST SOLDIER Boskos vauvado, I understand thee and +can speak thy tongue. Kerelybonto, sir, betake thee +to thy faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy +bosom. + +PAROLLES O! + +FIRST SOLDIER O, pray, pray, pray! Manka reuania +dulche. + +LORD Oscorbidulchos voliuorco. + +FIRST SOLDIER +The General is content to spare thee yet +And, hoodwinked as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES O, let me live, +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes. Nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +FIRST SOLDIER But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES If I do not, damn me. + +FIRST SOLDIER Acordo linta. Come on, thou art +granted space. +[He exits with Parolles under guard.] +[A short alarum within.] + +LORD +Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother +We have caught the woodcock and will keep him +muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +SECOND SOLDIER Captain, I will. + +LORD +He will betray us all unto ourselves. +Inform on that. + +SECOND SOLDIER So I will, sir. + +LORD +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely locked. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Bertram and the maid called Diana.] + + +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM Titled goddess, +And worth it, with addition. But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If the quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden but a monument. +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stern, +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM So should you be. + +DIANA No. +My mother did but duty--such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM No more o' that. +I prithee do not strive against my vows. +I was compelled to her, but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will forever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you. But when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vowed true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the high'st to witness. Then pray you, tell +me, +If I should swear by Jove's great attributes +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths +When I did love you ill? This has no holding +To swear by him whom I protest to love +That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths +Are words, and poor conditions but unsealed, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM Change it, change it. +Be not so holy-cruel. Love is holy, +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men may rope 's in such a snare +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honor 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors, +Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world +In me to lose. + +DIANA Mine honor's such a ring. +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors, +Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world +In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honor on my part +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM Here, take my ring. +My house, mine honor, yea, my life be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber +window. +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquered my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me. +My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be delivered. +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on Earth I have won by wooing thee. + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. [He exits.] +My mother told me just how he would woo +As if she sat in 's heart. She says all men +Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead. Therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid. +Only, in this disguise I think 't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the two French Lords and some two +or three Soldiers.] + + +FIRST LORD You have not given him his mother's +letter? + +SECOND LORD I have delivered it an hour since. There +is something in 't that stings his nature, for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +FIRST LORD He has much worthy blame laid upon him +for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +SECOND LORD Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the King, who had even tuned +his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you +a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +FIRST LORD When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I +am the grave of it. + +SECOND LORD He hath perverted a young gentlewoman +here in Florence of a most chaste renown, +and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her +honor. He hath given her his monumental ring and +thinks himself made in the unchaste composition. + +FIRST LORD Now God delay our rebellion! As we are +ourselves, what things are we! + +SECOND LORD Merely our own traitors. And, as in the +common course of all treasons we still see them +reveal themselves till they attain to their abhorred +ends, so he that in this action contrives against his +own nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows +himself. + +FIRST LORD Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters +of our unlawful intents? We shall not, then, +have his company tonight? + +SECOND LORD Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to +his hour. + +FIRST LORD That approaches apace. I would gladly +have him see his company anatomized, that he +might take a measure of his own judgments +wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit. + +SECOND LORD We will not meddle with him till he +come, for his presence must be the whip of the +other. + +FIRST LORD In the meantime, what hear you of these +wars? + +SECOND LORD I hear there is an overture of peace. + +FIRST LORD Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +SECOND LORD What will Count Rossillion do then? +Will he travel higher or return again into France? + +FIRST LORD I perceive by this demand you are not altogether +of his counsel. + +SECOND LORD Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a +great deal of his act. + +FIRST LORD Sir, his wife some two months since fled +from his house. Her pretense is a pilgrimage to +Saint Jaques le Grand, which holy undertaking +with most austere sanctimony she accomplished. +And, there residing, the tenderness of her nature +became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan +of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. + +SECOND LORD How is this justified? + +FIRST LORD The stronger part of it by her own letters, +which makes her story true even to the point of her +death. Her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +SECOND LORD Hath the Count all this intelligence? + +FIRST LORD Ay, and the particular confirmations, point +from point, to the full arming of the verity. + +SECOND LORD I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of +this. + +FIRST LORD How mightily sometimes we make us +comforts of our losses. + +SECOND LORD And how mightily some other times we +drown our gain in tears. The great dignity that his +valor hath here acquired for him shall at home be +encountered with a shame as ample. + +FIRST LORD The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, +good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud +if our faults whipped them not, and our crimes +would despair if they were not cherished by our +virtues. + +[Enter a Servant.] + +How now? Where's your master? + +SERVANT He met the Duke in the street, sir, of whom +he hath taken a solemn leave. His Lordship will +next morning for France. The Duke hath offered +him letters of commendations to the King. + +SECOND LORD They shall be no more than needful +there, if they were more than they can commend. +They cannot be too sweet for the King's tartness. + +[Enter Bertram Count Rossillion.] + +Here's his Lordship now.--How now, my lord? Is 't +not after midnight? + +BERTRAM I have tonight dispatched sixteen businesses, +a month's length apiece. By an abstract of +success: I have congeed with the Duke, done my +adieu with his nearest, buried a wife, mourned for +her, writ to my lady mother I am returning, entertained +my convoy, and between these main parcels +of dispatch effected many nicer needs. The last +was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet. + +SECOND LORD If the business be of any difficulty, and +this morning your departure hence, it requires +haste of your Lordship. + +BERTRAM I mean the business is not ended as fearing +to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue +between the Fool and the Soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module; has deceived +me like a double-meaning prophesier. + +SECOND LORD Bring him forth. Has sat i' th' stocks all +night, poor gallant knave. [Soldiers exit.] + +BERTRAM No matter. His heels have deserved it in +usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry +himself? + +SECOND LORD I have told your Lordship already: the +stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would +be understood: he weeps like a wench that had +shed her milk. He hath confessed himself to Morgan, +whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time +of his remembrance to this very instant disaster of +his setting i' th' stocks. And what think you he hath +confessed? + +BERTRAM Nothing of me, has he? + +SECOND LORD His confession is taken, and it shall be +read to his face. If your Lordship be in 't, as I +believe you are, you must have the patience to +hear it. + +[Enter Parolles, blindfolded, with his Interpreter, +the First Soldier.] + + +BERTRAM A plague upon him! Muffled! He can say +nothing of me. + +FIRST LORD, [aside to Bertram] Hush, hush. Hoodman +comes.--Portotartarossa. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [to Parolles] He calls for the tortures. +What will you say without 'em? + +PAROLLES I will confess what I know without constraint. +If you pinch me like a pasty, I can say no +more. + +FIRST SOLDIER Bosko Chimurcho. + +FIRST LORD Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +FIRST SOLDIER You are a merciful general.--Our general +bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a +note. + +PAROLLES And truly, as I hope to live. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [as if reading a note] First, demand of +him how many horse the Duke is strong.--What say +you to that? + +PAROLLES Five or six thousand, but very weak and +unserviceable. The troops are all scattered, and the +commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit, and as I hope to live. + +FIRST SOLDIER Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES Do. I'll take the Sacrament on 't, how and +which way you will. + +BERTRAM, [aside] All's one to him. What a past-saving +slave is this! + +FIRST LORD, [aside to Bertram] You're deceived, my +lord. This is Monsieur Parolles, the gallant +militarist--that was his own phrase--that had the +whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and +the practice in the chape of his dagger. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] I will never trust a man again for +keeping his sword clean, nor believe he can have +everything in him by wearing his apparel neatly. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [to Parolles] Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES "Five or six thousand horse," I said--I will +say true--"or thereabouts" set down, for I'll speak +truth. + +FIRST LORD, [aside] He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM, [aside] But I con him no thanks for 't, in the +nature he delivers it. + +PAROLLES "Poor rogues," I pray you say. + +FIRST SOLDIER Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth. +The rogues are marvelous poor. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [as if reading a note] Demand of him of +what strength they are o' foot.--What say you to +that? + +PAROLLES By my troth, sir, if I were to live but this +present hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio a +hundred and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus +so many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, +Lodowick and Gratii, two hundred fifty each; mine +own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two +hundred fifty each; so that the muster-file, rotten +and sound, upon my life amounts not to fifteen +thousand poll, half of the which dare not shake the +snow from off their cassocks lest they shake themselves +to pieces. + +BERTRAM, [aside] What shall be done to him? + +FIRST LORD, [aside] Nothing but let him have thanks. +[(Aside to First Soldier.)] Demand of him my condition +and what credit I have with the Duke. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [to Parolles] Well, that's set down. [Pretending +to read:] You shall demand of him whether +one Captain Dumaine be i' th' camp, a Frenchman; +what his reputation is with the Duke, what his valor, +honesty, and expertness in wars; or whether he +thinks it were not possible with well-weighing sums +of gold to corrupt him to a revolt.--What say you to +this? What do you know of it? + +PAROLLES I beseech you let me answer to the particular +of the inter'gatories. Demand them singly. + +FIRST SOLDIER Do you know this Captain Dumaine? + +PAROLLES I know him. He was a botcher's prentice in +Paris, from whence he was whipped for getting the +shrieve's fool with child, a dumb innocent that +could not say him nay. + +BERTRAM, [aside to First Lord] Nay, by your leave, hold +your hands, though I know his brains are forfeit to +the next tile that falls. + +FIRST SOLDIER Well, is this captain in the Duke of +Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy. + +FIRST LORD, [aside to Bertram] Nay, look not so upon +me. We shall hear of your Lordship anon. + +FIRST SOLDIER What is his reputation with the Duke? + +PAROLLES The Duke knows him for no other but a +poor officer of mine, and writ to me this other day +to turn him out o' th' band. I think I have his letter +in my pocket. + +FIRST SOLDIER Marry, we'll search. +[They search Parolles' pockets.] + +PAROLLES In good sadness, I do not know. Either it is +there, or it is upon a file with the Duke's other letters +in my tent. + +FIRST SOLDIER Here 'tis; here's a paper. Shall I read it to +you? + +PAROLLES I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM, [aside] Our interpreter does it well. + +FIRST LORD, [aside] Excellently. + +FIRST SOLDIER [reads] Dian, the Count's a fool and full +of gold-- + +PAROLLES That is not the Duke's letter, sir. That is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rossillion, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish. I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +FIRST SOLDIER Nay, I'll read it first, by your favor. + +PAROLLES My meaning in 't, I protest, was very honest +in the behalf of the maid, for I knew the young +count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is +a whale to virginity and devours up all the fry it +finds. + +BERTRAM, [aside] Damnable both-sides rogue! + +FIRST SOLDIER [reads] + When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and +take it. + After he scores, he never pays the score. + Half won is match well made. Match, and well +make it. + He ne'er pays after-debts. Take it before. + And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this: + Men are to mell with; boys are not to kiss. + For count of this: the Count's a fool, I know it, + Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. + Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +Parolles. + +BERTRAM, [aside] He shall be whipped through the +army with this rhyme in 's forehead. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] This is your devoted friend, sir, +the manifold linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM, [aside] I could endure anything before but a +cat, and now he's a cat to me. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [to Parolles] I perceive, sir, by our +general's looks we shall be fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid +to die, but that, my offenses being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' th' stocks, or anywhere, so I +may live. + +FIRST SOLDIER We'll see what may be done, so you confess +freely. Therefore once more to this Captain +Dumaine: you have answered to his reputation +with the Duke, and to his valor. What is his +honesty? + +PAROLLES He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister. For +rapes and ravishments, he parallels Nessus. He +professes not keeping of oaths. In breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such +volubility that you would think truth were a fool. +Drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will be +swine-drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, +save to his bedclothes about him; but they know +his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty; he has everything +that an honest man should not have; what an +honest man should have, he has nothing. + +FIRST LORD, [aside] I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM, [aside] For this description of thine honesty? +A pox upon him! For me, he's more and more +a cat. + +FIRST SOLDIER What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES Faith, sir, has led the drum before the English +tragedians. To belie him I will not, and more +of his soldiership I know not, except in that country +he had the honor to be the officer at a place +there called Mile End, to instruct for the doubling +of files. I would do the man what honor I can, but +of this I am not certain. + +FIRST LORD, [aside] He hath out-villained villainy so +far that the rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM, [aside] A pox on him! He's a cat still. + +FIRST SOLDIER His qualities being at this poor price, +I need not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to +revolt. + +PAROLLES Sir, for a cardecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession +for it perpetually. + +FIRST SOLDIER What's his brother, the other Captain +Dumaine? + +SECOND LORD, [aside] Why does he ask him of me? + +FIRST SOLDIER What's he? + +PAROLLES E'en a crow o' th' same nest: not altogether +so great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet +his brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a +retreat he outruns any lackey. Marry, in coming on +he has the cramp. + +FIRST SOLDIER If your life be saved, will you undertake +to betray the Florentine? + +PAROLLES Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count +Rossillion. + +FIRST SOLDIER I'll whisper with the General and know +his pleasure. + +PAROLLES, [aside] I'll no more drumming. A plague of +all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young +boy the Count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was +taken? + +FIRST SOLDIER There is no remedy, sir, but you must +die. The General says you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made +such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held +can serve the world for no honest use. Therefore +you must die.--Come, headsman, off with his +head. + +PAROLLES O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my +death! + +FIRST SOLDIER That shall you, and take your leave of +all your friends. [He removes the blindfold.] So, +look about you. Know you any here? + +BERTRAM Good morrow, noble captain. + +SECOND LORD God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +FIRST LORD God save you, noble captain. + +SECOND LORD Captain, what greeting will you to my +Lord Lafew? I am for France. + +FIRST LORD Good captain, will you give me a copy of +the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count +Rossillion? An I were not a very coward, I'd compel +it of you. But fare you well. +[Bertram and Lords exit.] + +FIRST SOLDIER You are undone, captain--all but your +scarf; that has a knot on 't yet. + +PAROLLES Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +FIRST SOLDIER If you could find out a country where +but women were that had received so much +shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare +you well, sir. I am for France too. We shall speak of +you there. [He exits.] + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more, +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall. Simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +That every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and Parolles live +Safest in shame. Being fooled, by fool'ry thrive. +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. [He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Helen, Widow, and Diana.] + + +HELEN +That you may well perceive I have not wronged you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety, 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel. +Time was, I did him a desired office +Dear almost as his life, which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth +And answer thanks. I duly am informed +His Grace is at Marseilles, to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead. The army breaking, +My husband hies him home, where, heaven aiding +And by the leave of my good lord the King, +We'll be before our welcome. + +WIDOW Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELEN Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labor +To recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But O, strange men, +That can such sweet use make of what they hate +When saucy trusting of the cozened thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night! So lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter.--You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELEN Yet, I pray you-- +But with the word "The time will bring on summer," +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away. +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us. +All's well that ends well. Still the fine's the crown. +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Fool, Countess, and Lafew.] + + +LAFEW No, no, no, your son was misled with a +snipped-taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron +would have made all the unbaked and doughy +youth of a nation in his color. Your daughter-in-law +had been alive at this hour, and your son here +at home, more advanced by the King than by that +red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS I would I had not known him. It was the +death of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever +nature had praise for creating. If she had partaken +of my flesh and cost me the dearest groans of a +mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted +love. + +LAFEW 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We may +pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another +herb. + +FOOL Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather the herb of grace. + +LAFEW They are not herbs, you knave. They are +nose-herbs. + +FOOL I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir. I have not +much skill in grass. + +LAFEW Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a +fool? + +FOOL A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a +man's. + +LAFEW Your distinction? + +FOOL I would cozen the man of his wife and do his +service. + +LAFEW So you were a knave at his service indeed. + +FOOL And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do +her service. + +LAFEW I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave +and fool. + +FOOL At your service. + +LAFEW No, no, no. + +FOOL Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEW Who's that, a Frenchman? + +FOOL Faith, sir, he has an English name, but his +phys'nomy is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEW What prince is that? + +FOOL The black prince, sir, alias the prince of darkness, +alias the devil. + +LAFEW, [giving him money] Hold thee, there's my +purse. I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy +master thou talk'st of. Serve him still. + +FOOL I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire, and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But sure he is the prince of the world; let +his Nobility remain in 's court. I am for the house +with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little +for pomp to enter. Some that humble themselves +may, but the many will be too chill and tender, and +they'll be for the flow'ry way that leads to the +broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEW Go thy ways. I begin to be aweary of thee. And +I tell thee so before because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways. Let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +FOOL If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks, which are their own right by the law +of nature. [He exits.] + +LAFEW A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS So he is. My lord that's gone made himself +much sport out of him. By his authority he +remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his +sauciness, and indeed he has no pace, but runs +where he will. + +LAFEW I like him well. 'Tis not amiss. And I was about +to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death +and that my lord your son was upon his return +home, I moved the King my master to speak in the +behalf of my daughter, which in the minority of +them both his Majesty out of a self-gracious +remembrance did first propose. His Highness hath +promised me to do it, and to stop up the displeasure +he hath conceived against your son there is +no fitter matter. How does your Ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS With very much content, my lord, and I +wish it happily effected. + +LAFEW His Highness comes post from Marseilles, of +as able body as when he numbered thirty. He will +be here tomorrow, or I am deceived by him that in +such intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS It rejoices me that, I hope, I shall see him +ere I die. I have letters that my son will be here +tonight. I shall beseech your Lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEW Madam, I was thinking with what manners I +might safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS You need but plead your honorable +privilege. + +LAFEW Lady, of that I have made a bold charter. But I +thank my God it holds yet. + +[Enter Fool.] + + +FOOL O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a +patch of velvet on 's face. Whether there be a scar +under 't or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly +patch of velvet. His left cheek is a cheek of two pile +and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEW A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good liv'ry +of honor. So belike is that. + +FOOL But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEW Let us go see your son, I pray you. I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +FOOL 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats, and most courteous feathers which bow the +head and nod at every man. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Helen, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants.] + + +HELEN +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low. We cannot help it. +But since you have made the days and nights as one +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. + +[Enter a Gentleman, a gentle Astringer.] + +In happy time! +This man may help me to his Majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power.--God save you, sir. + +GENTLEMAN And you. + +HELEN +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +GENTLEMAN I have been sometimes there. + +HELEN +I do presume, sir, that you are not fall'n +From the report that goes upon your goodness, +And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +GENTLEMAN What's your will? + +HELEN, [taking out a paper] That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the King +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +GENTLEMAN +The King's not here. + +HELEN Not here, sir? + +GENTLEMAN Not indeed. +He hence removed last night, and with more haste +Than is his use. + +WIDOW Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELEN All's well that ends well yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.-- +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +GENTLEMAN +Marry, as I take it, to Rossillion, +Whither I am going. + +HELEN, [giving him the paper] I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the King before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +GENTLEMAN This I'll do for you. + +HELEN +And you shall find yourself to be well thanked +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.-- +Go, go, provide. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Fool and Parolles.] + + +PAROLLES, [holding out a paper] Good Monsieur +Lavatch, give my lord Lafew this letter. I have ere +now, sir, been better known to you, when I have +held familiarity with fresher clothes. But I am +now, sir, muddied in Fortune's mood, and smell +somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. + +FOOL Truly, Fortune's displeasure is but sluttish if it +smell so strongly as thou speak'st of. I will henceforth +eat no fish of Fortune's butt'ring. Prithee, +allow the wind. + +PAROLLES Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir. I +spake but by a metaphor. + +FOOL Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink I will stop my +nose, or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +FOOL Foh! Prithee, stand away. A paper from Fortune's +close-stool, to give to a nobleman! + +[Enter Lafew.] + +Look, here he comes himself.--Here is a purr of +Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's cat--but not a +musk-cat--that has fall'n into the unclean fishpond +of her displeasure and, as he says, is muddied +withal. Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may, +for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, +rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my +smiles of comfort, and leave him to your Lordship. +[He exits.] + +PAROLLES My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath +cruelly scratched. + +LAFEW And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too +late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you +played the knave with Fortune that she should +scratch you, who of herself is a good lady and +would not have knaves thrive long under her? +There's a cardecu for you. Let the justices make +you and Fortune friends. I am for other business. + +PAROLLES I beseech your Honor to hear me one single +word. + +LAFEW You beg a single penny more. Come, you shall +ha 't. Save your word. + +PAROLLES My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEW You beg more than a word, then. Cock's my +passion; give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES O my good lord, you were the first that +found me. + +LAFEW Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost +thee. + +PAROLLES It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some +grace, for you did bring me out. + +LAFEW Out upon thee, knave! Dost thou put upon me +at once both the office of God and the devil? One +brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. +[Trumpets sound.] The King's coming. I know by +his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me. I +had talk of you last night. Though you are a fool +and a knave, you shall eat. Go to, follow. + +PAROLLES I praise God for you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafew, the two French +Lords, with Attendants.] + + +KING +We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it. But your son, +As mad in folly, lacked the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS 'Tis past, my liege, +And I beseech your Majesty to make it +Natural rebellion done i' th' blade of youth, +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING My honored lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all, +Though my revenges were high bent upon him +And watched the time to shoot. + +LAFEW This I must say-- +But first I beg my pardon: the young lord +Did to his Majesty, his mother, and his lady +Offense of mighty note, but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorned to serve +Humbly called mistress. + +KING Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither. +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon. +The nature of his great offense is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +Th' incensing relics of it. Let him approach +A stranger, no offender, and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +GENTLEMAN I shall, my liege. [He exits.] + +KING +What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke? + +LAFEW +All that he is hath reference to your Highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That sets him high in fame. + +[Enter Count Bertram.] + + +LAFEW He looks well on 't. + +KING I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once. But to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way. So stand thou forth. +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING All is whole. +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top, +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM Admiringly, my liege. At first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue; +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warped the line of every other favor, +Scorned a fair color or expressed it stol'n, +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object. Thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING Well excused. +That thou didst love her strikes some scores away +From the great compt. But love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offense, +Crying "That's good that's gone!" Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave. +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust. +Our own love, waking, cries to see what's done, +While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin. +The main consents are had, and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless, +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEW +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favor from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. +[Bertram gives him a ring.] +By my old beard +And ev'ry hair that's on 't, Helen that's dead +Was a sweet creature. Such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her leave at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it, for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fastened to 't. +[Lafew passes the ring to the King.] +This ring was mine, and when I gave it Helen, +I bade her if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. [To Bertram.] Had you that craft to +reave her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM My gracious +sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it, and she reckoned it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEW I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord. She never saw it. +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapped in a paper which contained the name +Of her that threw it. Noble she was, and thought +I stood ungaged, but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and informed her fully +I could not answer in that course of honor +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her. She called the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honor, +And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman--'twill not prove so, +And yet I know not. Thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead, which nothing but to close +Her eyes myself could win me to believe +More than to see this ring.--Take him away. +My forepast proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly feared too little. Away with him. +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. [He exits, under guard.] + +KING +I am wrapped in dismal thinkings. + +[Enter a Gentleman.] + + +GENTLEMAN Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not. +[He gives the King a paper.] +Here's a petition from a Florentine +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquished thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who, by this, I know +Is here attending. Her business looks in her +With an importing visage, and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your Highness with herself. + +KING [reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rossillion a widower, his +vows are forfeited to me and my honor's paid to him. +He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice. Grant it me, O king. +In you it best lies. Otherwise a seducer flourishes, +and a poor maid is undone. +Diana Capilet. + +LAFEW I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this. I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafew, +To bring forth this discov'ry.--Seek these suitors. +Go speedily, and bring again the Count. +[Gentleman and Attendants exit.] +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatched. + +COUNTESS Now justice on the doers! + +[Enter Bertram under guard.] + + +KING +I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +[Enter Widow and Diana.] + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet. +My suit, as I do understand, you know +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +WIDOW +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honor +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count. Do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them. Do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine, +For I by vow am so embodied yours +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEW, [to Bertram] Your reputation comes too short +for my daughter. You are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM, [to the King] +My lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature +Whom sometime I have laughed with. Let your +Highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them. Fairer prove your honor +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What sayst thou to her? + +BERTRAM She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord. If I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price. +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel. Yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' th' camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS He blushes, and 'tis hit. +Of six preceding ancestors that gem, +Conferred by testament to th' sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife. +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING, [to Diana] Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument. His name's Parolles. + +LAFEW +I saw the man today, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. [Attendant exits.] + +BERTRAM What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' th' world taxed and debauched, +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak anything? + +KING She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has. Certain it is I liked her +And boarded her i' th' wanton way of youth. +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and in fine +Her infinite cunning with her modern grace +Subdued me to her rate. She got the ring, +And I had that which any inferior might +At market price have bought. + +DIANA I must be patient. +You that have turned off a first so noble wife +May justly diet me. I pray you yet-- +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband-- +Send for your ring. I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM I have it not. + +KING, [to Diana] What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like the same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? This ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story, then, goes false you threw it him +Out of a casement? + +DIANA I have spoke the truth. + +[Enter Parolles.] + + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly. Every feather starts you.-- +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah--but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off-- +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES So please your Majesty, my master hath +been an honorable gentleman. Tricks he hath had +in him which gentlemen have. + +KING Come, come, to th' purpose. Did he love this +woman? + +PAROLLES Faith, sir, he did love her, but how? + +KING How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a +woman. + +KING How is that? + +PAROLLES He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING As thou art a knave and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES I am a poor man, and at your Majesty's +command. + +LAFEW He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty +orator. + +DIANA Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? + +PAROLLES Yes, so please your Majesty. I did go +between them, as I said; but more than that he +loved her, for indeed he was mad for her, and +talked of Satan and of limbo and of furies and I +know not what. Yet I was in that credit with them +at that time, that I knew of their going to bed and +of other motions, as promising her marriage, and +things which would derive me ill will to speak of. +Therefore I will not speak what I know. + +KING Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst +say they are married. But thou art too fine in thy +evidence. Therefore stand aside. +[To Diana.] +This ring you say was yours? + +DIANA Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? Or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it then? + +DIANA I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA I never gave it him. + +LAFEW This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes +off and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine. I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers for aught I know. + +KING, [to Attendants] +Take her away. I do not like her now. +To prison with her, and away with him.-- +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA, [to Bertram] +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty and he is not guilty. +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to 't. +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet. By my life, +I am either maid or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears. To prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. [Widow exits.] Stay, +royal sir. +The jeweler that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord +Who hath abused me as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harmed me, here I quit him. +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled, +And at that time he got his wife with child. +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick. +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick. +And now behold the meaning. + +[Enter Helen and Widow.] + + +KING Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is 't real that I see? + +HELEN No, my good lord, +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELEN +O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring, +And, look you, here's your letter. [She takes out a +paper.] This it says: +When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child, etc. This is done. +Will you be mine now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELEN +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you.-- +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEW +Mine eyes smell onions. I shall weep anon.-- +[To Parolles.] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher. +So, I thank thee. Wait on me home. +I'll make sport with thee. Let thy courtesies alone. +They are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. +[To Diana.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower. +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress more and less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express. +All yet seems well, and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. +[Flourish.] + +EPILOGUE +======== + +The King's a beggar, now the play is done. +All is well ended if this suit be won, +That you express content, which we will pay, +With strift to please you, day exceeding day. +Ours be your patience, then, and yours our parts. +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. +[All exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/antony-and-cleopatra_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/antony-and-cleopatra_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c37b64 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/antony-and-cleopatra_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5870 @@ +Antony and Cleopatra +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/antony-and-cleopatra/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +ANTONY, a triumvir of Rome +CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt +OCTAVIUS CAESAR, a triumvir of Rome +OCTAVIA, sister to Caesar, later wife to Antony +LEPIDUS, a triumvir of Rome +ENOBARBUS, also called DOMITIUS +Accompanying Antony in Egypt and elsewhere: + VENTIDIUS + SILIUS + EROS + CANIDIUS + SCARUS + DERCETUS + DEMETRIUS + PHILO + A SCHOOLMASTER, Antony's AMBASSADOR to Caesar +Serving in Cleopatra's court: + CHARMIAN + IRAS + ALEXAS + MARDIAN, a Eunuch + SELEUCUS, Cleopatra's treasurer + DIOMEDES +Supporting and accompanying Caesar: + MAECENAS + AGRIPPA + TAURUS + THIDIAS + DOLABELLA + GALLUS + PROCULEIUS +SEXTUS POMPEIUS, also called POMPEY +MENAS +MENECRATES +VARRIUS +MESSENGERS +SOLDIERS +SENTRIES +GUARDSMEN +A SOOTHSAYER +SERVANTS +A BOY +A CAPTAIN +AN EGYPTIAN +A COUNTRYMAN +Ladies, Eunuchs, Captains, Officers, Soldiers, Attendants, Servants (Lamprius, Rannius, Lucillius: mute characters named in the opening stage direction to 1.2) + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Demetrius and Philo.] + + +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure. Those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glowed like plated Mars, now bend, now turn +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front. His captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gypsy's lust. + +[Flourish. Enter Antony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Train, +with Eunuchs fanning her.] + +Look where they come. +Take but good note, and you shall see in him +The triple pillar of the world transformed +Into a strumpet's fool. Behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new +Earth. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER News, my good lord, from Rome. + +ANTONY Grates me, the sum. + +CLEOPATRA Nay, hear them, Antony. +Fulvia perchance is angry. Or who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you: "Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that. +Perform 't, or else we damn thee." + +ANTONY How, my love? + +CLEOPATRA Perchance? Nay, and most like. +You must not stay here longer; your dismission +Is come from Caesar. Therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's, I would say-- +both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager; else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall. Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay. Our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man. The nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair +And such a twain can do 't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not. Antony +Will be himself. + +ANTONY But stirred by Cleopatra. +Now for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh. +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +ANTONY Fie, wrangling queen, +Whom everything becomes--to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger but thine, and all alone +Tonight we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen, +Last night you did desire it. [To the Messenger.] +Speak not to us. +[Antony and Cleopatra exit with the Train.] + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes when he is not Antony +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar who +Thus speaks of him at Rome; but I will hope +Of better deeds tomorrow. Rest you happy! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Soothsayer, Rannius, +Lucillius, Charmian, Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, Alexas, +and Servants.] + + +CHARMIAN Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything +Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the +soothsayer that you praised so to th' Queen? O, that +I knew this husband which you say must charge +his horns with garlands! + +ALEXAS Soothsayer! + +SOOTHSAYER Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man?--Is 't you, sir, that know things? + +SOOTHSAYER +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS, [to Charmian] Show him your hand. + +ENOBARBUS, [to Servants] +Bring in the banquet quickly, wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN, [giving her hand to the Soothsayer] Good sir, +give me good fortune. + +SOOTHSAYER I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN Pray then, foresee me one. + +SOOTHSAYER +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN He means in flesh. + +IRAS No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS Vex not his prescience. Be attentive. + +CHARMIAN Hush. + +SOOTHSAYER +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me +be married to three kings in a forenoon and widow +them all. Let me have a child at fifty to whom Herod +of Jewry may do homage. Find me to marry me +with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my +mistress. + +SOOTHSAYER +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN O, excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +SOOTHSAYER +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN Then belike my children shall have no +names. Prithee, how many boys and wenches must +I have? + +SOOTHSAYER +If every of your wishes had a womb, +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS You think none but your sheets are privy to +your wishes. + +CHARMIAN, [to Soothsayer] Nay, come. Tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS We'll know all our fortunes. + +ENOBARBUS Mine, and most of our fortunes tonight, +shall be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS, [giving her hand to the Soothsayer] There's a palm +presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth +famine. + +IRAS Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, +I cannot scratch mine ear.--Prithee +tell her but a workaday fortune. + +SOOTHSAYER Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS But how, but how? Give me particulars. + +SOOTHSAYER I have said. + +IRAS Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN Well, if you were but an inch of fortune +better than I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN Our worser thoughts heavens mend. Alexas-- +come, his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a +woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and +let her die, too, and give him a worse, and let worse +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing +to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold. Good Isis, hear me +this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more +weight, good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS Amen, dear goddess, hear that prayer of the +people. For, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome +man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to +behold a foul knave uncuckolded. Therefore, dear +Isis, keep decorum and fortune him accordingly. + +CHARMIAN Amen. + +ALEXAS Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores but +they'd do 't. + +ENOBARBUS Hush, here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN Not he. The Queen. + +[Enter Cleopatra.] + + +CLEOPATRA Saw you my lord? + +ENOBARBUS No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth, but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him.--Enobarbus! + +ENOBARBUS Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him and bring him hither.--Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here at your service. My lord approaches. + +[Enter Antony with a Messenger.] + + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him. Go with us. +[All but Antony and the Messenger exit.] + +MESSENGER +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +ANTONY Against my brother Lucius? + +MESSENGER Ay. +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst +Caesar, +Whose better issue in the war from Italy +Upon the first encounter drave them. + +ANTONY Well, what worst? + +MESSENGER +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On. +Things that are past are done, with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flattered. + +MESSENGER Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath with his Parthian force +Extended Asia: from Euphrates +His conquering banner shook, from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia, +Whilst-- + +ANTONY "Antony," thou wouldst say? + +MESSENGER O, my lord! + +ANTONY +Speak to me home; mince not the general tongue. +Name Cleopatra as she is called in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase, and taunt my faults +With such full license as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds +When our quick winds lie still, and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +MESSENGER At your noble pleasure. [Messenger exits.] + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +ANTONY +From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. + +SECOND MESSENGER +The man from Sicyon-- + +ANTONY Is there such an one? + +SECOND MESSENGER +He stays upon your will. + +ANTONY Let him appear. +[Second Messenger exits.] +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +[Enter another Messenger with a letter.] + +What are you? + +THIRD MESSENGER +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +ANTONY Where died she? + +THIRD MESSENGER In Sicyon. +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. +[He hands Antony the letter.] + +ANTONY Forbear me. +[Third Messenger exits.] +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it. +What our contempts doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again. The present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself. She's good, being gone. +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off. +Ten thousand harms more than the ills I know +My idleness doth hatch.--How now, Enobarbus! + +[Enter Enobarbus.] + + +ENOBARBUS What's your pleasure, sir? + +ANTONY I must with haste from hence. + +ENOBARBUS Why then we kill all our women. We see +how mortal an unkindness is to them. If they suffer +our departure, death's the word. + +ANTONY I must be gone. + +ENOBARBUS Under a compelling occasion, let women +die. It were pity to cast them away for nothing, +though between them and a great cause, they +should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching +but the least noise of this, dies instantly. I have seen +her die twenty times upon far poorer moment. I do +think there is mettle in death which commits some +loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in +dying. + +ANTONY She is cunning past man's thought. + +ENOBARBUS Alack, sir, no, her passions are made of +nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot +call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are +greater storms and tempests than almanacs can +report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she +makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. + +ANTONY Would I had never seen her! + +ENOBARBUS O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful +piece of work, which not to have been blest +withal would have discredited your travel. + +ANTONY Fulvia is dead. + +ENOBARBUS Sir? + +ANTONY Fulvia is dead. + +ENOBARBUS Fulvia? + +ANTONY Dead. + +ENOBARBUS Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. +When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a +man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the +Earth; comforting therein, that when old robes are +worn out, there are members to make new. If there +were no more women but Fulvia, then had you +indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented. This grief +is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings +forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live in an +onion that should water this sorrow. + +ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +ENOBARBUS And the business you have broached here +cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, +which wholly depends on your abode. + +ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the Queen +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us, but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar and commands +The empire of the sea. Our slippery people, +Whose love is never linked to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son, who--high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life--stands up +For the main soldier; whose quality, going on, +The sides o' th' world may danger. Much is +breeding +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life +And not a serpent's poison. Say our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +ENOBARBUS I shall do 't. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA, [to Alexas] +See where he is, who's with him, what he does. +I did not send you. If you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick. Quick, and return. +[Alexas exits.] + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA What should I do I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far. I wish, forbear. +In time we hate that which we often fear. + +[Enter Antony.] + +But here comes Antony. + +CLEOPATRA I am sick and sullen. + +ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian! I shall fall. +It cannot be thus long; the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +ANTONY Now, my dearest queen-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you stand farther from me. + +ANTONY What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know by that same eye there's some good news. +What, says the married woman you may go? +Would she had never given you leave to come. +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here. +I have no power upon you. Hers you are. + +ANTONY +The gods best know-- + +CLEOPATRA O, never was there queen +So mightily betrayed! Yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +ANTONY Cleopatra-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine, and true-- +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods-- +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows +Which break themselves in swearing! + +ANTONY Most sweet +queen-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you seek no color for your going, +But bid farewell and go. When you sued staying, +Then was the time for words. No going then! +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor +But was a race of heaven. They are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turned the greatest liar. + +ANTONY How now, lady? + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches. Thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +ANTONY Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile, but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords; Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome; +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction; the hated grown to +strength +Are newly grown to love; the condemned Pompey, +Rich in his father's honor, creeps apace +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change. My more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die? + +ANTONY She's dead, my queen. [He shows her papers.] +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best, +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA O, most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear, which are or cease +As you shall give th' advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war +As thou affects. + +CLEOPATRA Cut my lace, Charmian, come! +But let it be; I am quickly ill and well; +So Antony loves. + +ANTONY My precious queen, forbear, +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honorable trial. + +CLEOPATRA So Fulvia told me. +I prithee turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling, and let it look +Like perfect honor. + +ANTONY You'll heat my blood. No more! + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet, but this is meetly. + +ANTONY +Now by my sword-- + +CLEOPATRA And target. Still he mends. +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +ANTONY I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it; +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well. Something it is I would-- +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +ANTONY But that your Royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA 'Tis sweating labor +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me, +Since my becomings kill me when they do not +Eye well to you. Your honor calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, +And all the gods go with you. Upon your sword +Sit laurel victory, and smooth success +Be strewed before your feet. + +ANTONY Let us go. Come. +Our separation so abides and flies +That thou, residing here, goes yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. +Away! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Octavius Caesar, reading a letter, +Lepidus, and their Train.] + + +CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor. From Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel, is not more manlike +Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners. You shall +find there +A man who is th' abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS I must not think there are +Evils enough to darken all his goodness. +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness, hereditary +Rather than purchased, what he cannot change +Than what he chooses. + +CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let's grant it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy, +To give a kingdom for a mirth, to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave, +To reel the streets at noon and stand the buffet +With knaves that smells of sweat. Say this becomes +him-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish--yet must +Antony +No way excuse his foils when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he filled +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits and the dryness of his bones +Call on him for 't. But to confound such time +That drums him from his sport and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours, 'tis to be chid +As we rate boys who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure +And so rebel to judgment. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +LEPIDUS Here's more news. + +MESSENGER +Thy biddings have been done, and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea, +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have feared Caesar. To the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wronged. + +CAESAR I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state +That he which is was wished until he were, +And the ebbed man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes feared by being lacked. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide +To rot itself with motion. + +[Enter a Second Messenger.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER Caesar, I bring thee word +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Makes the sea serve them, which they ear and +wound +With keels of every kind. Many hot inroads +They make in Italy--the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on 't--and flush youth revolt. +No vessel can peep forth but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen, for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +CAESAR Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Was beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirsius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow, whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer. Thou didst drink +The stale of horses and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at. Thy palate then did +deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge. +Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed. On the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh +Which some did die to look on. And all this-- +It wounds thine honor that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheek +So much as lanked not. + +LEPIDUS 'Tis pity of him. + +CAESAR Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome. 'Tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' th' field, and to that end +Assemble we immediate council. Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS Tomorrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnished to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +CAESAR Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +CAESAR +Doubt not, sir. I knew it for my bond. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.] + + +CLEOPATRA Charmian! + +CHARMIAN Madam? + +CLEOPATRA Ha, ha! Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN Madam, I trust not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN What's your Highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing. I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has. 'Tis well for thee +That, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA Indeed? + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam, for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done. +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA O, Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? Or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse, for wot'st thou whom thou +mov'st? +The demi-Atlas of this Earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring "Where's my serpent of old Nile?" +For so he calls me. Now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch. And great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect, and die +With looking on his life. + +[Enter Alexas from Antony.] + + +ALEXAS Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet coming from him, that great med'cine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kissed--the last of many doubled kisses-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS "Good friend," quoth +he, +"Say the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the East, +Say thou, shall call her mistress." So he nodded +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neighed so high that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumbed by him. + +CLEOPATRA What, was he sad, or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' th' year between th' extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O, well-divided disposition!--Note him, +Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man! But note +him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seemed to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both. +O, heavenly mingle!--Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man's else.--Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers. +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony +Shall die a beggar.--Ink and paper, Charmian.-- +Welcome, my good Alexas.--Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN O, that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say "the brave Antony." + +CHARMIAN The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA My salad days, +When I was green in judgment, cold in blood, +To say as I said then. But come, away, +Get me ink and paper. +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas, +in warlike manner.] + + +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENAS Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENAS We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY I shall do well. +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to th' full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors. Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts. Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flattered; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field. A mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'Tis false. + +MENAS From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams. I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wanned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both; +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts; +Keep his brain fuming. Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite, +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honor +Even till a Lethe'd dullness-- + +[Enter Varrius.] + +How now, Varrius? + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected. Since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for farther travel. + +POMPEY I could have given less matter +A better ear.--Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donned his helm +For such a petty war. His soldiership +Is twice the other twain. But let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together. +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warred upon him, although I think +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were 't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves, +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords. But how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be 't as our gods will have 't. It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.] + + +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +ENOBARBUS I shall entreat him +To answer like himself. If Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonio's beard, +I would not shave 't today. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time for private stomaching. + +ENOBARBUS Every time serves for the matter that is +then born in 't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +ENOBARBUS Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion; but pray you stir +No embers up. Here comes the noble Antony. + +[Enter, at one door, Antony and Ventidius.] + + +ENOBARBUS And yonder Caesar. + +[Enter, at another door, Caesar, +Maecenas, and Agrippa.] + + +ANTONY, [to Ventidius] +If we compose well here, to Parthia. +Hark, Ventidius. [They talk aside.] + +CAESAR, [to Maecenas] +I do not know, Maecenas. Ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS, [to Caesar and Antony] Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard. When we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds. Then, noble partners, +The rather for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to th' matter. + +ANTONY 'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight, +I should do thus. [Flourish.] + +CAESAR Welcome to Rome. + +ANTONY Thank you. + +CAESAR Sit. + +ANTONY Sit, sir. + +CAESAR Nay, then. [They sit.] + +ANTONY +I learn you take things ill which are not so, +Or, being, concern you not. + +CAESAR I must be laughed at +If or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' th' world; more laughed at, that I should +Once name you derogately when to sound your +name +It not concerned me. + +ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, what was 't to you? + +CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt. Yet if you there +Did practice on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +ANTONY How intend you, practiced? + +CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befall me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me, and their contestation +Was theme for you; you were the word of war. + +ANTONY +You do mistake your business. My brother never +Did urge me in his act. I did inquire it, +And have my learning from some true reports +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours, +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +CAESAR You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patched up your excuses. + +ANTONY Not so, not so. +I know you could not lack--I am certain on 't-- +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another. +The third o' th' world is yours, which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +ENOBARBUS Would we had all such wives, that the men +might go to wars with the women! + +ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar, +Made out of her impatience--which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too--I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet. For that you must +But say I could not help it. + +CAESAR I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +ANTONY Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted, then; +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' th' morning. But next day +I told him of myself, which was as much +As to have asked him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +CAESAR You have broken +The article of your oath, which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS Soft, Caesar! + +ANTONY No, Lepidus, let him speak. +The honor is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lacked it.--But on, Caesar: +The article of my oath? + +CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them, +The which you both denied. + +ANTONY Neglected, rather; +And then when poisoned hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may +I'll play the penitent to you. But mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here, +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honor +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS 'Tis noble spoken. + +MAECENAS +If it might please you to enforce no further +The griefs between you, to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS Worthily spoken, Maecenas. + +ENOBARBUS Or, if you borrow one another's love for +the instant, you may, when you hear no more words +of Pompey, return it again. You shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only. Speak no more. + +ENOBARBUS That truth should be silent I had almost +forgot. + +ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +ENOBARBUS Go to, then. Your considerate stone. + +CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for 't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So diff'ring in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us staunch, from edge to +edge +O' th' world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA Give me leave, Caesar. + +CAESAR Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia. Great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +CAESAR Say not so, Agrippa. +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar. Let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife, whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing. Truths would be tales, +Where now half-tales be truths. Her love to both +Would each to other and all loves to both +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke, +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +ANTONY Will Caesar speak? + +CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touched +With what is spoke already. + +ANTONY What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say "Agrippa, be it so," +To make this good? + +CAESAR The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +ANTONY May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment. Let me have thy hand. +Further this act of grace; and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs. + +CAESAR There's my hand. +[They clasp hands.] +A sister I bequeath you whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly. Let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again. + +LEPIDUS Happily, amen! + +ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey, +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me. I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS Time calls upon 's. +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +ANTONY Where lies he? + +CAESAR About the Mount Misena. + +ANTONY What is his strength by land? + +CAESAR Great and increasing; +But by sea he is an absolute master. + +ANTONY So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together. Haste we for it. +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talked of. + +CAESAR With most gladness, +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, not sickness should detain me. +[Flourish. All but Enobarbus, Agrippa, and +Maecenas exit.] + +MAECENAS, [to Enobarbus] Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +ENOBARBUS Half the heart of Caesar, worthy +Maecenas!--My honorable friend Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA Good Enobarbus! + +MAECENAS We have cause to be glad that matters are so +well digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +ENOBARBUS Ay, sir, we did sleep day out of countenance +and made the night light with drinking. + +MAECENAS Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, +and but twelve persons there. Is this true? + +ENOBARBUS This was but as a fly by an eagle. We had +much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily +deserved noting. + +MAECENAS She's a most triumphant lady, if report be +square to her. + +ENOBARBUS When she first met Mark Antony, she +pursed up his heart upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA There she appeared indeed, or my reporter +devised well for her. + +ENOBARBUS I will tell you. +The barge she sat in like a burnished throne +Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold, +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were lovesick with them. The oars were +silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggared all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold, of tissue-- +O'erpicturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature. On each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colored fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA O, rare for Antony! + +ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' th' eyes, +And made their bends adornings. At the helm +A seeming mermaid steers. The silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' th' market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to th' air, which but for vacancy +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA Rare Egyptian! + +ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper. She replied +It should be better he became her guest, +Which she entreated. Our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of "No" woman heard speak, +Being barbered ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed; +He ploughed her, and she cropped. + +ENOBARBUS I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street, +And having lost her breath, she spoke and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And breathless pour breath forth. + +MAECENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +ENOBARBUS Never. He will not. +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety. Other women cloy +The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies. For vilest things +Become themselves in her, that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MAECENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +ENOBARBUS Humbly, sir, I thank you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Antony, Caesar; Octavia between them.] + + +ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +ANTONY, [to Caesar] Goodnight, sir.--My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report. +I have not kept my square, but that to come +Shall all be done by th' rule. Good night, dear +lady.-- +Good night, sir. + +CAESAR Goodnight. [Caesar and Octavia exit.] + +[Enter Soothsayer.] + + +ANTONY +Now, sirrah, you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +SOOTHSAYER Would I had never come from thence, +nor you thither. + +ANTONY If you can, your reason? + +SOOTHSAYER I see it in my motion, have it not in my +tongue. But yet hie you to Egypt again. + +ANTONY +Say to me, whose fortunes shall rise higher, +Caesar's or mine? + +SOOTHSAYER Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side. +Thy daemon--that thy spirit which keeps thee--is +Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not. But near him, thy angel +Becomes afeard, as being o'erpowered. Therefore +Make space enough between you. + +ANTONY Speak this no more. + +SOOTHSAYER +To none but thee; no more but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and of that natural luck +He beats thee 'gainst the odds. Thy luster thickens +When he shines by. I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But he away, 'tis noble. + +ANTONY Get thee gone. +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him. +[Soothsayer exits.] +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true. The very dice obey him, +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance. If we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine +When it is all to naught, and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhooped, at odds. I will to Egypt. +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' th' East my pleasure lies. + +[Enter Ventidius.] + +O, come, Ventidius. +You must to Parthia; your commission's ready. +Follow me and receive 't. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Lepidus, Maecenas, and Agrippa.] + + +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further. Pray you hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldiers' dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MAECENAS We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about. +You'll win two days upon me. + +BOTH Sir, good success. + +LEPIDUS Farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music--music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +ALL The music, ho! + +[Enter Mardian the eunuch.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone. Let's to billiards. Come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore. Best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch played +As with a woman.--Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is showed, though 't come too +short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now. +Give me mine angle; we'll to th' river. There, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws, and as I draw them up +I'll think them every one an Antony +And say "Aha! You're caught." + +CHARMIAN 'Twas merry when +You wagered on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA That time?--O, times!-- +I laughed him out of patience; and that night +I laughed him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed, +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +O, from Italy! +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +MESSENGER Madam, madam-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonio's dead! If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress. But well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss, a hand that kings +Have lipped and trembled kissing. + +MESSENGER First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. But sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well. Bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +MESSENGER Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA Well, go to, I will. +But there's no goodness in thy face--if Antony +Be free and healthful, so tart a favor +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crowned with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +MESSENGER Will 't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st. +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +MESSENGER Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA Well said. + +MESSENGER +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA Th' art an honest man. + +MESSENGER +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +MESSENGER But yet, madam-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like "But yet." It does allay +The good precedence. Fie upon "But yet." +"But yet" is as a jailer to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar, +In state of health, thou say'st, and, thou say'st, free. + +MESSENGER +Free, madam, no. I made no such report. +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA For what good turn? + +MESSENGER +For the best turn i' th' bed. + +CLEOPATRA I am pale, Charmian. + +MESSENGER +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! +[Strikes him down.] + +MESSENGER Good madam, patience! + +CLEOPATRA What say you? [Strikes him.] +Hence, horrible villain, or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me! I'll unhair thy head! +[She hales him up and down.] +Thou shalt be whipped with wire and stewed in +brine, +Smarting in ling'ring pickle. + +MESSENGER Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee +And make thy fortunes proud. The blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage, +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +MESSENGER He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. [Draw a knife.] + +MESSENGER Nay then, I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. +[He exits.] + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself. +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile, and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again. +Though I am mad, I will not bite him. Call! + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA I will not hurt him. +These hands do lack nobility that they strike +A meaner than myself, since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +[Enter the Messenger again.] + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news. Give to a gracious message +An host of tongues, but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +MESSENGER I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do +If thou again say "yes." + +MESSENGER He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! Dost thou hold there still? + +MESSENGER +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence. +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +MESSENGER +I crave your Highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA He is married? + +MESSENGER +Take no offense that I would not offend you. +To punish me for what you make me do +Seems much unequal. He's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee +That art not what th' art sure of! Get thee hence. +The merchandise which thou hast brought from +Rome +Are all too dear for me. Lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! [Messenger exits.] + +CHARMIAN Good your Highness, +patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for 't now. Lead me from hence; +I faint. O, Iras, Charmian! 'Tis no matter.-- +Go to the fellow, good Alexas. Bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination; let him not leave out +The color of her hair. Bring me word quickly. +[Alexas exits.] +Let him forever go--let him not, Charmian. +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way 's a Mars. [(To Mardian.)] Bid you +Alexas +Bring me word how tall she is.--Pity me, +Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Pompey and Menas at one door, +with Drum and Trumpet; at another Caesar, Lepidus, +Antony, Enobarbus, Maecenas, and Agrippa, +with Soldiers marching.] + + +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine, +And we shall talk before we fight. + +CAESAR Most meet +That first we come to words, and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent, +Which if thou hast considered, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods: I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends, since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you laboring for him. What was 't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire? And what +Made the all-honored, honest, Roman Brutus, +With the armed rest, courtiers of beauteous +freedom, +To drench the Capitol, but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy, at whose burden +The angered ocean foams, with which I meant +To scourge th' ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +CAESAR Take your time. + +ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails. +We'll speak with thee at sea. At land thou know'st +How much we do o'ercount thee. + +POMPEY At land indeed +Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house; +But since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in 't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +CAESAR There's the point. + +ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +CAESAR And what may follow +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then to send +Measures of wheat to Rome. This 'greed upon, +To part with unhacked edges and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +ALL That's our offer. + +POMPEY Know then +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer. But Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience.--Though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +ANTONY I have heard it, Pompey, +And am well studied for a liberal thanks, +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY Let me have your hand. +[They clasp hands.] +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +ANTONY +The beds i' th' East are soft; and thanks to you, +That called me timelier than my purpose hither, +For I have gained by 't. + +CAESAR, [to Pompey] Since I saw you last, +There's a change upon you. + +POMPEY Well, I know not +What counts harsh Fortune casts upon my face, +But in my bosom shall she never come +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed. +I crave our composition may be written +And sealed between us. + +CAESAR That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part, and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +ANTONY That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot. But, first or last, +Your fine Egyptian cookery shall have +The fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +ANTONY You have heard much. + +POMPEY I have fair meanings, sir. + +ANTONY And fair words to them. + +POMPEY Then so much have I heard. +And I have heard Apollodorus carried-- + +ENOBARBUS +No more of that. He did so. + +POMPEY What, I pray you? + +ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now. How far'st thou, soldier? + +ENOBARBUS Well, +And well am like to do, for I perceive +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY Let me shake thy hand. +I never hated thee. I have seen thee fight +When I have envied thy behavior. + +ENOBARBUS Sir, +I never loved you much, but I ha' praised you +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY Enjoy thy plainness; +It nothing ill becomes thee.-- +Aboard my galley I invite you all. +Will you lead, lords? + +ALL Show 's the way, sir. + +POMPEY Come. +[They exit, except for Enobarbus and Menas.] + +MENAS, [aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +ENOBARBUS At sea, I think. + +MENAS We have, sir. + +ENOBARBUS You have done well by water. + +MENAS And you by land. + +ENOBARBUS I will praise any man that will praise me, +though it cannot be denied what I have done by +land. + +MENAS Nor what I have done by water. + +ENOBARBUS Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS And you by land. + +ENOBARBUS There I deny my land service. But give me +your hand, Menas. [They clasp hands.] If our eyes +had authority, here they might take two thieves +kissing. + +MENAS All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their +hands are. + +ENOBARBUS But there is never a fair woman has a true +face. + +MENAS No slander. They steal hearts. + +ENOBARBUS We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a +drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his +fortune. + +ENOBARBUS If he do, sure he cannot weep 't back +again. + +MENAS You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here. Pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +ENOBARBUS Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS True, sir. She was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +ENOBARBUS But she is now the wife of Marcus +Antonius. + +MENAS Pray you, sir? + +ENOBARBUS 'Tis true. + +MENAS Then is Caesar and he forever knit together. + +ENOBARBUS If I were bound to divine of this unity, I +would not prophesy so. + +MENAS I think the policy of that purpose made more in +the marriage than the love of the parties. + +ENOBARBUS I think so, too. But you shall find the band +that seems to tie their friendship together will be +the very strangler of their amity. Octavia is of a holy, +cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS Who would not have his wife so? + +ENOBARBUS Not he that himself is not so, which is +Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish again. +Then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in +Caesar, and, as I said before, that which is the +strength of their amity shall prove the immediate +author of their variance. Antony will use his affection +where it is. He married but his occasion here. + +MENAS And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +ENOBARBUS I shall take it, sir. We have used our throats +in Egypt. + +MENAS Come, let's away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Music plays. Enter two or three Servants +with a banquet.] + + +FIRST SERVANT Here they'll be, man. Some o' their +plants are ill-rooted already. The least wind i' th' +world will blow them down. + +SECOND SERVANT Lepidus is high-colored. + +FIRST SERVANT They have made him drink alms-drink. + +SECOND SERVANT As they pinch one another by the +disposition, he cries out "No more," reconciles +them to his entreaty and himself to th' drink. + +FIRST SERVANT But it raises the greater war between +him and his discretion. + +SECOND SERVANT Why, this it is to have a name in great +men's fellowship. I had as lief have a reed that will +do me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +FIRST SERVANT To be called into a huge sphere, and not +to be seen to move in 't, are the holes where eyes +should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +[A sennet sounded. Enter Caesar, Antony, Pompey, +Lepidus, Agrippa, Maecenas, Enobarbus, Menas, with +other Captains and a Boy.] + + +ANTONY +Thus do they, sir: they take the flow o' th' Nile +By certain scales i' th' Pyramid; they know +By th' height, the lowness, or the mean if dearth +Or foison follow. The higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises. As it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS You've strange serpents there? + +ANTONY Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your +mud by the operation of your sun; so is your +crocodile. + +ANTONY They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit, and some wine. A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er +out. + +ENOBARBUS, [aside] Not till you have slept. I fear me +you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things. Without contradiction +I have heard that. + +MENAS, [aside to Pompey] +Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY, [aside to Menas] Say in mine ear what is 't. + +MENAS [(whispers in 's ear)] +Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY, [aside to Menas] +Forbear me till anon.--This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +ANTONY It is shaped, sir, like itself, and it is as broad as +it hath breadth. It is just so high as it is, and moves +with it own organs. It lives by that which nourisheth +it, and the elements once out of it, it +transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS What color is it of? + +ANTONY Of it own color too. + +LEPIDUS 'Tis a strange serpent. + +ANTONY 'Tis so, and the tears of it are wet. + +CAESAR, [aside to Antony] Will this description satisfy +him? + +ANTONY With the health that Pompey gives him, else he +is a very epicure. + +POMPEY, [aside to Menas] +Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of that? Away! +Do as I bid you.--Where's this cup I called for? + +MENAS, [aside to Pompey] +If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY I think th' art mad! +[He rises, and they walk aside.] +The matter? + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else +to say?-- +Be jolly, lords. + +ANTONY These quicksands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS, [aside to Pompey] +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY What sayst thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY How should that be? + +MENAS But entertain it, +And though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou dar'st be, the earthly Jove. +Whate'er the ocean pales or sky inclips +Is thine, if thou wilt ha 't. + +POMPEY Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel. Let me cut the cable, +And when we are put off, fall to their throats. +All there is thine. + +POMPEY Ah, this thou shouldst have done +And not have spoke on 't! In me 'tis villainy; +In thee 't had been good service. Thou must know +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honor; +Mine honor, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betrayed thine act. Being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done, +But must condemn it now. Desist and drink. + +MENAS, [aside] For this +I'll never follow thy palled fortunes more. +Who seeks and will not take when once 'tis offered +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY This health to Lepidus! + +ANTONY, [to Servant] +Bear him ashore.--I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas. + +MENAS Enobarbus, welcome. + +POMPEY Fill till the cup be hid. + +ENOBARBUS, [pointing to the Servant carrying Lepidus] +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +MENAS Why? + +ENOBARBUS He bears +The third part of the world, man. Seest not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk. Would it were all, +That it might go on wheels. + +ENOBARBUS Drink thou. Increase the reels. + +MENAS Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho! +Here's to Caesar. + +CAESAR I could well forbear 't. +It's monstrous labor when I wash my brain +And it grows fouler. + +ANTONY Be a child o' th' time. + +CAESAR Possess it, I'll make answer. +But I had rather fast from all, four days, +Than drink so much in one. + +ENOBARBUS, [to Antony] Ha, my brave emperor, +Shall we dance now the Egyptian bacchanals +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY Let's ha 't, good soldier. + +ANTONY Come, let's all take hands +Till that the conquering wine hath steeped our +sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +ENOBARBUS All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music, +The while I'll place you; then the boy shall sing. +The holding every man shall beat as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +[Music plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.] + +The Song. + +BOY Come, thou monarch of the vine, + Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne. + In thy vats our cares be drowned. + With thy grapes our hairs be crowned. + +ALL Cup us till the world go round, + Cup us till the world go round. + +CAESAR +What would you more?--Pompey, goodnight.-- +Good brother, +Let me request you off. Our graver business +Frowns at this levity.--Gentle lords, let's part. +You see we have burnt our cheeks. Strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine, and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks. The wild disguise hath almost +Anticked us all. What needs more words? +Goodnight. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY I'll try you on the shore. + +ANTONY And shall, sir. Give 's your hand. + +POMPEY +O, Antony, you have my father's house. +But what? We are friends! Come down into the boat. + +ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. +[All but Menas and Enobarbus exit.] +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. These drums, these trumpets, +flutes! What! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows. Sound and be hanged. Sound +out! [Sound a flourish, with drums.] + +ENOBARBUS Hoo, says 'a! There's my cap! +[He throws his cap in the air.] + +MENAS Hoo! Noble captain, come. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Ventidius as it were in triumph, the dead body of +Pacorus borne before him; with Silius and Soldiers.] + + +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck, and now +Pleased Fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the King's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow. Spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly. So thy grand captain, Antony, +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS O, Silius, Silius, +I have done enough. A lower place, note well, +May make too great an act. For learn this, Silius: +Better to leave undone than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve 's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person. Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by th' minute, lost his favor. +Who does i' th' wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him. And in his offense +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS Thou hast, Ventidius, that +Without the which a soldier and his sword +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to +Antony? + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' th' field. + +SILIUS Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens, whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with 's will permit, +We shall appear before him.--On there, pass along! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Agrippa at one door, Enobarbus at another.] + + +AGRIPPA What, are the brothers parted? + +ENOBARBUS +They have dispatched with Pompey; he is gone. +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome. Caesar is sad, and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the greensickness. + +AGRIPPA 'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +ENOBARBUS +A very fine one. O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How, the nonpareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony, O thou Arabian bird! + +ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say "Caesar." Go no +further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best, yet he loves Antony. +Hoo, hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets, +cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number--hoo!-- +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA Both he loves. + +ENOBARBUS +They are his shards and he their beetle. +[Trumpet within.] +So, +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier, and farewell. + +[Enter Caesar, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavia.] + + +ANTONY No further, sir. + +CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself. +Use me well in 't.--Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest bond +Shall pass on thy approof.--Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue which is set +Betwixt us, as the cement of our love +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it. For better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherished. + +ANTONY Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +CAESAR I have said. + +ANTONY You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear. So the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends. +We will here part. + +CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well. +The elements be kind to thee and make +Thy spirits all of comfort. Fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA My noble brother. [She weeps.] + +ANTONY +The April's in her eyes. It is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on.--Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA, [to Caesar] +Sir, look well to my husband's house, and-- + +CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA I'll tell you in your ear. +[Caesar and Octavia walk aside.] + +ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue--the swan's-down +feather +That stands upon the swell at the full of tide +And neither way inclines. + +ENOBARBUS, [aside to Agrippa] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA He has a cloud in 's face. + +ENOBARBUS +He were the worse for that were he a horse; +So is he being a man. + +AGRIPPA Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring. And he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +ENOBARBUS +That year indeed he was troubled with a rheum. +What willingly he did confound he wailed, +Believe 't, till I wept too. + +CAESAR, [coming forward with Octavia] No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still. The time shall not +Outgo my thinking on you. + +ANTONY Come, sir, come, +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love. +Look, here I have you, thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +CAESAR Adieu, be happy. + +LEPIDUS, [to Antony] +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way. + +CAESAR Farewell, farewell. [Kisses Octavia.] + +ANTONY Farewell. +[Trumpets sound. They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to.--Come hither, sir. + +[Enter the Messenger as before.] + + +ALEXAS Good Majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA That Herod's head +I'll have! But how, when Antony is gone, +Through whom I might command it?--Come thou +near. + +MESSENGER +Most gracious Majesty! + +CLEOPATRA Did'st thou behold Octavia? + +MESSENGER +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA Where? + +MESSENGER Madam, in Rome. +I looked her in the face and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +MESSENGER She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? Is she shrill-tongued or low? + +MESSENGER +Madam, I heard her speak. She is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good. He cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her? O Isis, 'tis impossible! + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and +dwarfish!-- +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou looked'st on majesty. + +MESSENGER She creeps. +Her motion and her station are as one. +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA Is this certain? + +MESSENGER +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA He's very knowing. +I do perceive 't. There's nothing in her yet. +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA, [to Messenger] Guess at her years, I +prithee. + +MESSENGER Madam, she was a widow. + +CLEOPATRA Widow? Charmian, hark. + +MESSENGER And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? Is 't long or round? + +MESSENGER Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair what color? + +MESSENGER Brown, madam, and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA, [giving money] There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill. +I will employ thee back again. I find thee +Most fit for business. Go, make thee ready. +Our letters are prepared. [Messenger exits.] + +CHARMIAN A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed he is so. I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good +Charmian, +But 'tis no matter. Thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN I warrant you, madam. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Antony and Octavia.] + + +ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that-- +That were excusable, that and thousands more +Of semblable import--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will and read it +To public ear; +Spoke scantly of me; when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honor, cold and sickly +He vented them, most narrow measure lent me; +When the best hint was given him, he not took 't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA O, my good lord, +Believe not all, or if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts. +The good gods will mock me presently +When I shall pray "O, bless my lord and husband!" +Undo that prayer by crying out as loud +"O, bless my brother!" Husband win, win brother +Prays and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +ANTONY Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point which seeks +Best to preserve it. If I lose mine honor, +I lose myself; better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's. The meantime, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother. Make your soonest haste, +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me, most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler. Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way, for our faults +Can never be so equal that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Enobarbus and Eros.] + + +ENOBARBUS How now, friend Eros? + +EROS There's strange news come, sir. + +ENOBARBUS What, man? + +EROS Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon +Pompey. + +ENOBARBUS This is old. What is the success? + +EROS Caesar, having made use of him in the wars +'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality, +would not let him partake in the glory of the action; +and, not resting here, accuses him of letters he had +formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal +seizes him. So the poor third is up, till death enlarge +his confine. + +ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more, +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden, thus, and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries "Fool Lepidus!" +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murdered Pompey. + +ENOBARBUS Our great navy's rigged. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius: +My lord desires you presently. My news +I might have told hereafter. + +ENOBARBUS 'Twill be naught, +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS Come, sir. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Agrippa, Maecenas, and Caesar.] + + +CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this and more +In Alexandria. Here's the manner of 't: +I' th' marketplace, on a tribunal silvered, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned. At the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt, made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MAECENAS This in the public eye? + +CAESAR +I' th' common showplace where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaimed the kings of kings. +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assigned +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. She +In th' habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appeared, and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MAECENAS Let Rome be thus informed. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence already, +Will their good thoughts call from him. + +CAESAR +The people knows it and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA Who does he accuse? + +CAESAR +Caesar, and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoiled, we had not rated him +His part o' th' isle. Then does he say he lent me +Some shipping, unrestored. Lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA Sir, this should be answered. + +CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel, +That he his high authority abused +And did deserve his change. For what I have +conquered, +I grant him part; but then in his Armenia +And other of his conquered kingdoms I +Demand the like. + +MAECENAS He'll never yield to that. + +CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +[Enter Octavia with her Train.] + + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! Hail, most dear Caesar. + +CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not called me so, nor have you cause. + +CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus? You come not +Like Caesar's sister. The wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear. The trees by th' way +Should have borne men, and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops. But you are come +A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved. We should have met you +By sea and land, supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrained, but did it +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal, whereon I begged +His pardon for return. + +CAESAR Which soon he granted, +Being an abstract 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +CAESAR I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA My lord, in Athens. + +CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister. Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore, who now are levying +The kings o' th' Earth for war. He hath assembled +Bocchus, the King of Libya; Archelaus +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, King +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Manchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, King +Of Comagen; Polemon and Amyntas, +The Kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of scepters. + +OCTAVIA Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That does afflict each other! + +CAESAR Welcome hither. +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth +Till we perceived both how you were wrong led +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart. +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities, +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome, +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought, and the high gods, +To do you justice, makes his ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort, +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA Welcome, lady. + +MAECENAS Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you; +Only th' adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off +And gives his potent regiment to a trull +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA, [to Caesar] Is it so, sir? + +CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray you +Be ever known to patience. My dear'st sister! +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra and Enobarbus.] + + +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +ENOBARBUS But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars +And say'st it is not fit. + +ENOBARBUS Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +Is 't not denounced against us? Why should not we +Be there in person? + +ENOBARBUS Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost. The mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA What is 't you say? + +ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony, +Take from his heart, take from his brain, from 's time +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity, and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus, an eunuch, and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' th' war, +And as the president of my kingdom will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it. +I will not stay behind. + +[Enter Antony and Canidius.] + + +ENOBARBUS Nay, I have done. +Here comes the Emperor. + +ANTONY Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea +And take in Toryne?--You have heard on 't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +ANTONY A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness.--Canidius, we will fight +With him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA By sea, what else? + +CANIDIUS Why will +My lord do so? + +ANTONY For that he dares us to 't. + +ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia, +Where Caesar fought with Pompey. But these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off, +And so should you. + +ENOBARBUS Your ships are not well manned, +Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people +Engrossed by swift impress. In Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought. +Their ships are yare, yours heavy. No disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +ANTONY By sea, by sea. + +ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land, +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-marked footmen, leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge, quite forgo +The way which promises assurance, and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard +From firm security. + +ANTONY I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn, +And with the rest full-manned, from th' head of +Actium +Beat th' approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do 't at land. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +Thy business? + +MESSENGER +The news is true, my lord; he is descried. +Caesar has taken Toryne. [He exits.] + +ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'Tis impossible; +Strange that his power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship.-- +Away, my Thetis. + +[Enter a Soldier.] + +How now, worthy soldier? + +SOLDIER +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea! +Trust not to rotten planks. Do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let th' Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking. We +Have used to conquer standing on the earth +And fighting foot to foot. + +ANTONY Well, well, away. +[Antony, Cleopatra, and Enobarbus exit.] + +SOLDIER +By Hercules, I think I am i' th' right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art, but his whole action grows +Not in the power on 't. So our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +SOLDIER You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius are for sea, +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +SOLDIER While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +SOLDIER +They say one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS Well I know the man. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER The Emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's in labor, and throws forth +Each minute some. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Enter Caesar with his army, and Taurus, marching.] + + +CAESAR Taurus! + +TAURUS My lord? + +CAESAR +Strike not by land, keep whole. Provoke not battle +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll. [Hands him a scroll.] +Our fortune lies +Upon this jump. +[They exit.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Enter Antony and Enobarbus.] + + +ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' th' hill +In eye of Caesar's battle, from which place +We may the number of the ships behold +And so proceed accordingly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 10 +======== +[Canidius marcheth with his land army one way +over the stage, and Taurus the lieutenant of Caesar +the other way. After their going in is heard the +noise of a sea fight.] + + +[Alarum. Enter Enobarbus.] + + +ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer. +Th' Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder. +To see 't mine eyes are blasted. + +[Enter Scarus.] + + +SCARUS Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +ENOBARBUS What's thy passion? + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance. We have kissed away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +ENOBARBUS How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side, like the tokened pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt, +Whom leprosy o'ertake, i' th' midst o' th' fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appeared +Both as the same--or, rather, ours the elder-- +The breeze upon her like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +ENOBARBUS That I beheld. +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS She once being loofed, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her. +I never saw an action of such shame. +Experience, manhood, honor ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +ENOBARBUS Alack, alack. + +[Enter Canidius.] + + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well. +O, he has given example for our flight +Most grossly by his own. + +ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? Why then goodnight +indeed. + +CANIDIUS Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to 't, and there I will attend +What further comes. [He exits.] + +CANIDIUS To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse. Six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. [He exits.] + +ENOBARBUS I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. +[He exits.] + +Scene 11 +======== +[Enter Antony with Attendants.] + + +ANTONY +Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon 't. +It is ashamed to bear me. Friends, come hither. +I am so lated in the world that I +Have lost my way forever. I have a ship +Laden with gold. Take that, divide it. Fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +ALL Fly? Not we! + +ANTONY +I have fled myself and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, begone. +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you. Begone. +My treasure's in the harbor; take it. O, +I followed that I blush to look upon! +My very hairs do mutiny, for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, begone. You shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness. Take the hint +Which my despair proclaims. Let that be left +Which leaves itself. To the seaside straightway! +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little--pray you, now, +Nay, do so--for indeed I have lost command. +Therefore I pray you--I'll see you by and by. +[Attendants move aside. Antony sits down.] + +[Enter Cleopatra led by Charmian, Iras, and Eros.] + + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN Do! Why, what else? + +CLEOPATRA Let me sit down. O Juno! [She sits down.] + +ANTONY No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS See you here, sir? + +ANTONY Oh fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN Madam. + +IRAS Madam, O good empress! + +EROS Sir, sir-- + +ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes. He at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer, while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended. He alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had +In the brave squares of war, yet now--no matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS The Queen, my lord, the Queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam; speak to him. +He's unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA, [rising] Well, then, sustain me. O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise. The Queen approaches. +Her head's declined, and death will seize her but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +ANTONY I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS Sir, the Queen. + +ANTONY, [rising] +O, whither hast them led me, Egypt? See +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes, +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroyed in dishonor. + +CLEOPATRA O, my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have followed. + +ANTONY Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by th' strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after. O'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA O, my pardon! + +ANTONY Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness, who +With half the bulk o' th' world played as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror, and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA Pardon, pardon! + +ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss. [They kiss.] +Even this repays me.-- +We sent our schoolmaster. Is he come back?-- +Love, I am full of lead.--Some wine +Within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. +[They exit.] + +Scene 12 +======== +[Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Thidias, and +Dolabella, with others.] + + +CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster-- +An argument that he is plucked, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +[Enter Ambassador from Antony.] + + +CAESAR Approach, and speak. + +AMBASSADOR +Such as I am, I come from Antony. +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf +To his grand sea. + +CAESAR Be 't so. Declare thine office. + +AMBASSADOR +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt, which not granted, +He lessens his requests, and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and Earth, +A private man in Athens. This for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness, +Submits her to thy might, and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +CAESAR For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The Queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there. This if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +AMBASSADOR +Fortune pursue thee! + +CAESAR Bring him through the bands. +[Ambassador exits, with Attendants.] +[To Thidias.] To try thy eloquence now 'tis time. +Dispatch. +From Antony win Cleopatra. Promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers. Women are not +In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure +The ne'er-touched vestal. Try thy cunning, Thidias. +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THIDIAS Caesar, I go. + +CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THIDIAS Caesar, I shall. +[They exit.] + +Scene 13 +======== +[Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, and Iras.] + + +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +ENOBARBUS Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? Why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nicked his captainship, at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The mered question. 'Twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA Prithee, peace. + +[Enter the Ambassador with Antony.] + + +ANTONY Is that his answer? + +AMBASSADOR Ay, my lord. + +ANTONY +The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up? + +AMBASSADOR He says so. + +ANTONY Let her know 't.-- +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA That head, my lord? + +ANTONY, [to Ambassador] +To him again. Tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him, from which the world should +note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions +May be a coward's, whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' th' command of Caesar. I dare him therefore +To lay his gay caparisons apart +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it. Follow me. +[Antony and Ambassador exit.] + +ENOBARBUS, [aside] +Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness and be staged to th' show +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT A messenger from Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women, +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneeled unto the buds.--Admit him, sir. +[Servant exits.] + +ENOBARBUS, [aside] +Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly. Yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer, +And earns a place i' th' story. + +[Enter Thidias.] + + +CLEOPATRA Caesar's will? + +THIDIAS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA None but friends. Say boldly. + +THIDIAS +So haply are they friends to Antony. + +ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has, +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend. For us, you know +Whose he is we are, and that is Caesar's. + +THIDIAS So.-- +Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA Go on; right royal. + +THIDIAS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you feared him. + +CLEOPATRA O! + +THIDIAS +The scars upon your honor therefore he +Does pity as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA He is a god and knows +What is most right. Mine honor was not yielded, +But conquered merely. + +ENOBARBUS, [aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. [Enobarbus exits.] + +THIDIAS Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? For he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits +To hear from me you had left Antony +And put yourself under his shroud, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA What's your name? + +THIDIAS +My name is Thidias. + +CLEOPATRA Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this in deputation: +I kiss his conqu'ring hand. Tell him I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel. +Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THIDIAS 'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. +[She gives him her hand to kiss.] + +CLEOPATRA Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place +As it rained kisses. + +[Enter Antony and Enobarbus.] + + +ANTONY Favors? By Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THIDIAS One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man and worthiest +To have command obeyed. + +ENOBARBUS You will be whipped. + +ANTONY, [calling for Servants] +Approach there!--Ah, you kite!--Now, gods and +devils, +Authority melts from me. Of late when I cried "Ho!" +Like boys unto a muss kings would start forth +And cry "Your will?" Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +[Enter Servants.] + +Take hence this jack and whip him. + +ENOBARBUS, [aside] +'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +ANTONY Moon and stars! +Whip him! Were 't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here--what's her +name +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till like a boy you see him cringe his face +And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence. + +THIDIAS +Mark Antony-- + +ANTONY Tug him away. Being whipped, +Bring him again. This jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. +[Servants exit with Thidias.] +[To Cleopatra.] You were half blasted ere I knew you. +Ha! +Have I my pillow left unpressed in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA Good my lord-- + +ANTONY You have been a boggler ever. +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O, misery on 't!--the wise gods seel our eyes, +In our own filth drop our clear judgments, make us +Adore our errors, laugh at 's while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA O, is 't come to this? + +ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Gneius Pompey's, besides what hotter hours, +Unregistered in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously picked out. For I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA Wherefore is this? + +ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say "God quit you!" be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand, this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! For I have savage cause, +And to proclaim it civilly were like +A haltered neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +[Enter a Servant with Thidias.] + +Is he whipped? + +SERVANT Soundly, my lord. + +ANTONY Cried he? And begged he pardon? + +SERVANT He did ask favor. + +ANTONY, [to Thidias] +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipped for following him. +Henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee; +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar. +Tell him thy entertainment. Look thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry, +And at this time most easy 'tis to do 't, +When my good stars that were my former guides +Have empty left their orbs and shot their fires +Into th' abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like to quit me. Urge it thou. +Hence with thy stripes, begone! [Thidias exits.] + +CLEOPATRA Have you done yet? + +ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon is now eclipsed, +And it portends alone the fall of Antony. + +CLEOPATRA I must stay his time. + +ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA Not know me yet? + +ANTONY +Coldhearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail +And poison it in the source, and the first stone +Drop in my neck; as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite, +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm +Lie graveless till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +ANTONY I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria, where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our severed navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sealike. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, +lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood. +I and my sword will earn our chronicle. +There's hope in 't yet. + +CLEOPATRA That's my brave lord! + +ANTONY +I will be treble-sinewed, -hearted, -breathed, +And fight maliciously; for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests. But now I'll set my teeth +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me +All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA It is my birthday. +I had thought t' have held it poor. But since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +ANTONY We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +ANTONY +Do so; we'll speak to them, and tonight I'll force +The wine peep through their scars.--Come on, my +queen, +There's sap in 't yet. The next time I do fight +I'll make Death love me, for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. +[All but Enobarbus exit.] + +ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious +Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart. When valor preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Maecenas, with his army, +Caesar reading a letter.] + + +CAESAR +He calls me "boy," and chides as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt. My messenger +He hath whipped with rods, dares me to personal +combat, +Caesar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MAECENAS Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction. Never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +CAESAR Let our best heads +Know that tomorrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight. Within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done, +And feast the army; we have store to do 't, +And they have earned the waste. Poor Antony. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Antony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, +with others.] + + +ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius? + +ENOBARBUS No. + +ANTONY Why should he not? + +ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +ANTONY Tomorrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight. Or I will live +Or bathe my dying honor in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +ENOBARBUS +I'll strike and cry "Take all." + +ANTONY Well said. Come on. +Call forth my household servants. + +[Enter three or four Servitors.] + +Let's tonight +Be bounteous at our meal.--Give me thy hand; +Thou hast been rightly honest.--So hast thou,-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou. You have served me +well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA, [aside to Enobarbus] What means this? + +ENOBARBUS, [aside to Cleopatra] +'Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +ANTONY, [to another Servitor] And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapped up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +ALL THE SERVITORS The gods forbid! + +ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me tonight. +Scant not my cups, and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too +And suffered my command. + +CLEOPATRA, [aside to Enobarbus] What does he mean? + +ENOBARBUS, [aside to Cleopatra] +To make his followers weep. + +ANTONY, [to the Servitors] Tend me tonight; +May be it is the period of your duty. +Haply you shall not see me more, or if, +A mangled shadow. Perchance tomorrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away, but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death. +Tend me tonight two hours--I ask no more-- +And the gods yield you for 't! + +ENOBARBUS What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep, +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed. For shame, +Transform us not to women. + +ANTONY Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty +friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense, +For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire you +To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts, +I hope well of tomorrow, and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honor. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter a company of Soldiers.] + + +FIRST SOLDIER +Brother, goodnight. Tomorrow is the day. + +SECOND SOLDIER +It will determine one way. Fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +FIRST SOLDIER Nothing. What news? + +SECOND SOLDIER +Belike 'tis but a rumor. Goodnight to you. + +FIRST SOLDIER Well, sir, goodnight. + +[They meet other Soldiers who are entering.] + + +SECOND SOLDIER Soldiers, have careful watch. + +THIRD SOLDIER And you. Goodnight, goodnight. + +[They place themselves in every corner of the stage.] + + + +SECOND SOLDIER Here we; and if tomorrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +FIRST SOLDIER 'Tis a brave army, and full of purpose. + +[Music of the hautboys is under the stage.] + + + +SECOND SOLDIER Peace. What noise? + +FIRST SOLDIER List, list! + +SECOND SOLDIER Hark! + +FIRST SOLDIER Music i' th' air. + +THIRD SOLDIER Under the earth. + +FOURTH SOLDIER It signs well, does it not? + +THIRD SOLDIER No. + +FIRST SOLDIER Peace, I say. What should this mean? + +SECOND SOLDIER +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +FIRST SOLDIER Walk. Let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do. + +SECOND SOLDIER How now, masters? [Speak together.] + +ALL How now? How now? Do you hear this? + +FIRST SOLDIER Ay. Is 't not strange? + +THIRD SOLDIER Do you hear, masters? Do you hear? + +FIRST SOLDIER +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter. +Let's see how it will give off. + +ALL Content. 'Tis strange. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with +Charmian, and others.] + + +ANTONY, [calling] +Eros! Mine armor, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA Sleep a little. + +ANTONY +No, my chuck.--Eros, come, mine armor, Eros. + +[Enter Eros, carrying armor.] + +Come, good fellow, put thine iron on. +If fortune be not ours today, it is +Because we brave her. Come. + +CLEOPATRA Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +ANTONY Ah, let be, let be! Thou art +The armorer of my heart. False, false. This, this! + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help. Thus it must be. + +ANTONY Well, well, +We shall thrive now.--Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go, put on thy defenses. + +EROS Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +ANTONY Rarely, rarely. +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff 't for our repose, shall hear a storm.-- +Thou fumblest, Eros, and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou. Dispatch.--O love, +That thou couldst see my wars today, and knew'st +The royal occupation, thou shouldst see +A workman in 't. + +[Enter an armed Soldier.] + +Good morrow to thee. Welcome. +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge. +To business that we love we rise betime +And go to 't with delight. + +SOLDIER A thousand, sir, +Early though 't be, have on their riveted trim +And at the port expect you. [Shout. Trumpets flourish.] + +[Enter Captains and Soldiers.] + + +CAPTAIN +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +ALL +Good morrow, general. + +ANTONY 'Tis well blown, lads. +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so.--Come, give me that. This way.--Well said.-- +Fare thee well, dame. [He kisses her.] +Whate'er becomes of me, +This is a soldier's kiss. Rebukable +And worthy shameful check it were to stand +On more mechanic compliment. I'll leave thee +Now like a man of steel.--You that will fight, +Follow me close. I'll bring you to 't.--Adieu. +[Antony, Eros, Captains, and Soldiers exit.] + +CHARMIAN +Please you retire to your chamber? + +CLEOPATRA Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight, +Then Antony--but now--. Well, on. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Trumpets sound. Enter Antony and Eros, and a Soldier +who meets them.] + + +SOLDIER +The gods make this a happy day to Antony. + +ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevailed +To make me fight at land. + +SOLDIER Had'st thou done so, +The kings that have revolted and the soldier +That has this morning left thee would have still +Followed thy heels. + +ANTONY Who's gone this morning? + +SOLDIER Who? +One ever near thee. Call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee, or from Caesar's camp +Say "I am none of thine." + +ANTONY What sayest thou? + +SOLDIER Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +ANTONY Is he gone? + +SOLDIER Most certain. + +ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after. Do it. +Detain no jot, I charge thee. Write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings. +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men. Dispatch.--Enobarbus! +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Agrippa, Caesar, with +Enobarbus and Dolabella.] + + +CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight. +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA Caesar, I shall. [He exits.] + +CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near. +Prove this a prosp'rous day, the three-nooked world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER Antony +Is come into the field. + +CAESAR Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the vant +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. [All but Enobarbus exit.] + +ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony, there did dissuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar +And leave his master Antony. For this pains, +Caesar hath hanged him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment but +No honorable trust. I have done ill, +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely +That I will joy no more. + +[Enter a Soldier of Caesar's.] + + +SOLDIER Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus. The messenger +Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +ENOBARBUS I give it you. + +SOLDIER Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true. Best you safed the bringer +Out of the host. I must attend mine office +Or would have done 't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. [He exits.] + +ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the Earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my +heart. +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought, but thought will do 't, I feel. +I fight against thee? No. I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. +[He exits.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Alarum, Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa, +with other of Caesar's soldiers.] + + +AGRIPPA +Retire! We have engaged ourselves too far. +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. [They exit.] + +[Alarums. Enter Antony, and Scarus wounded.] + + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +ANTONY Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. [Sound of retreat far off.] + +ANTONY They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes. I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +[Enter Eros.] + + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS Let us score their backs +And snatch 'em up as we take hares, behind. +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +ANTONY I will reward thee +Once for thy sprightly comfort and tenfold +For thy good valor. Come thee on. + +SCARUS I'll halt after. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Antony again in a march; +Scarus, with others.] + + +ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp. Run one before +And let the Queen know of our gests. +[A Soldier exits.] +Tomorrow +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has today escaped. I thank you all, +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine. You have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city. Clip your wives, your friends. +Tell them your feats, whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds and kiss +The honored gashes whole. + +[Enter Cleopatra.] + +[To Scarus.] Give me thy hand. +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee.--O, thou day o' th' +world, +Chain mine armed neck. Leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing. + +CLEOPATRA Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, com'st thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +ANTONY Mine nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl, though +gray +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet +ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man. +Commend unto his lips thy favoring hand.-- +Kiss it, my warrior. [Scarus kisses her hand.] +He hath fought today +As if a god in hate of mankind had +Destroyed in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA, [to Scarus] I'll give thee, friend, +An armor all of gold. It was a king's. + +ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand. +Through Alexandria make a jolly march. +Bear our hacked targets like the men that owe +them. +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril.--Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear. +Make mingle with our rattling taborins, +That heaven and Earth may strike their sounds +together, +Applauding our approach. +[They exit.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Enter a Sentry and his company. Enobarbus follows.] + + +SENTRY +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to th' court of guard. The night +Is shiny, and they say we shall embattle +By th' second hour i' th' morn. + +FIRST WATCH This last day was a shrewd one to 's. + +ENOBARBUS O, bear me witness, night-- + +SECOND WATCH What man is this? + +FIRST WATCH Stand close, and list him. + +ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent. + +SENTRY Enobarbus? + +SECOND WATCH Peace! Hark further. + +ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night dispunge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault, +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular, +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive. +O Antony! O Antony! [He dies.] + +FIRST WATCH Let's speak to him. + +SENTRY Let's hear him, for the things he speaks may +concern Caesar. + +SECOND WATCH Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +SENTRY +Swoons rather, for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +FIRST WATCH Go we to him. + +SECOND WATCH Awake, sir, awake! Speak to us. + +FIRST WATCH Hear you, sir? + +SENTRY +The hand of death hath raught him. [Drums afar off.] +Hark, the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To th' court of guard; he is of note. Our hour +Is fully out. + +SECOND WATCH Come on then. He may recover yet. +[They exit, carrying Enobarbus' body.] + +Scene 10 +======== +[Enter Antony and Scarus, with their army.] + + +ANTONY +Their preparation is today by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS For both, my lord. + +ANTONY +I would they'd fight i' th' fire or i' th' air; +We'd fight there too. But this it is: our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us--order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven-- +Where their appointment we may best discover +And look on their endeavor. +[They exit.] + +Scene 11 +======== +[Enter Caesar and his army.] + + +CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land-- +Which, as I take 't, we shall, for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. +[They exit.] + +Scene 12 +======== +[Enter Antony and Scarus.] + + +ANTONY +Yet they are not joined. Where yond pine does stand, +I shall discover all. I'll bring thee word +Straight how 'tis like to go. [He exits.] +[Alarum afar off, as at a sea fight.] + +SCARUS Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests. The augurs +Say they know not, they cannot tell, look grimly +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant and dejected, and by starts +His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear +Of what he has and has not. + +[Enter Antony.] + + +ANTONY All is lost! +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me. +My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turned whore! 'Tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice, and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly-- +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly. Begone! +[Scarus exits.] +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more. +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spanieled me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar, and this pine is barked +That overtopped them all. Betrayed I am. +O, this false soul of Egypt! This grave charm, +Whose eye becked forth my wars and called them +home, +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end, +Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.-- +What Eros, Eros! + +[Enter Cleopatra.] + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians! +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for dolts, and let +Patient Octavia plow thy visage up +With her prepared nails. [Cleopatra exits.] +'Tis well th' art gone, +If it be well to live. But better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many.--Eros, ho!-- +The shirt of Nessus is upon me. Teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage. +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' moon, +And with those hands that grasped the heaviest +club +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die. +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I +fall +Under this plot. She dies for 't.--Eros, ho! +[He exits.] + +Scene 13 +======== +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he's more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so embossed. + +CHARMIAN To th' monument! +There lock yourself and send him word you are +dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA To th' monument!-- +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself. +Say that the last I spoke was "Antony," +And word it, prithee, piteously. Hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death.--To th' +monument! +[They exit.] + +Scene 14 +======== +[Enter Antony and Eros.] + + +ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS Ay, noble lord. + +ANTONY +Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish, +A vapor sometime like a bear or lion, +A towered citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon 't that nod unto the world +And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these +signs. +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS Ay, my lord. + +ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns and makes it indistinct +As water is in water. + +EROS It does, my lord. + +ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body. Here I am Antony, +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt, and the Queen, +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine-- +Which whilst it was mine had annexed unto 't +A million more, now lost--she, Eros, has +Packed cards with Caesar and false-played my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros. There is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +[Enter Mardian.] + +O, thy vile lady! +She has robbed me of my sword. + +MARDIAN No, Antony, +My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +ANTONY Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace! +She hath betrayed me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged. What thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand. The last she spake +Was "Antony, most noble Antony." +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips. She rendered life +Thy name so buried in her. + +ANTONY Dead, then? + +MARDIAN Dead. + +ANTONY +Unarm, Eros. The long day's task is done, +And we must sleep.--That thou depart'st hence safe +Does pay thy labor richly. Go. [Mardian exits.] +Off, pluck off! +[Eros begins to remove Antony's armor.] +The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent; +Crack thy frail case. Apace, Eros, apace! +No more a soldier. Bruised pieces, go. +You have been nobly borne.--From me awhile. +[Eros exits.] +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture. Since the torch is out, +Lie down and stray no farther. Now all labor +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength. Seal, then, and all is done.-- +Eros!--I come, my queen.--Eros!--Stay for me. +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze. +Dido and her Aeneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours.--Come, Eros, Eros! + +[Enter Eros.] + + +EROS +What would my lord? + +ANTONY Since Cleopatra died +I have lived in such dishonor that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quartered the world and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman--less noble mind +Than she which, by her death, our Caesar tells +"I am conqueror of myself." Thou art sworn, Eros, +That when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +Th' inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that on my command +Thou then wouldst kill me. Do 't. The time is come. +Thou strik'st not me; 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put color in thy cheek. + +EROS The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim and could not? + +ANTONY Eros, +Wouldst thou be windowed in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleached arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheeled seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS I would not see 't. + +ANTONY +Come, then, for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS O, sir, pardon me! + +ANTONY +When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once, +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me then that noble countenance +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +ANTONY Lo thee! [He turns away.] + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +ANTONY Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +ANTONY 'Tis said, man, and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +ANTONY Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there, then. [Stabs himself.] +Thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. [Dies.] + +ANTONY Thrice nobler than myself, +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record. But I will be +A bridegroom in my death and run into 't +As to a lover's bed. Come then, and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar. To do thus +I learned of thee. [He stabs himself.] How, not dead? +Not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +[Enter a company of the Guard, one of them named +Dercetus.] + + +FIRST GUARD What's the noise? + +ANTONY +I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end +Of what I have begun! + +SECOND GUARD The star is fall'n. + +FIRST GUARD +And time is at his period. + +ALL Alas, and woe! + +ANTONY Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +FIRST GUARD Not I. + +SECOND GUARD Nor I. + +THIRD GUARD Nor anyone. +[All but Antony and Dercetus exit.] + +DERCETUS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +[He takes Antony's sword.] +This sword but shown to Caesar with this tidings +Shall enter me with him. + +[Enter Diomedes.] + + +DIOMEDES Where's Antony? + +DERCETUS There, Diomed, there. + +DIOMEDES Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man? +[Dercetus exits.] + +ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES Now, my lord. + +ANTONY Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Locked in her monument. She had a prophesying +fear +Of what hath come to pass. For when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was +dead; +But fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth, and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed. Call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What ho! The Emperor's guard! The guard, what ho! +Come, your lord calls. + +[Enter four or five of the Guard of Antony.] + + +ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides. +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +FIRST GUARD +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +ALL Most heavy day! + +ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows. Bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up. +I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. +[They exit bearing Antony and the body of Eros.] + +Scene 15 +======== +[Enter Cleopatra and her maids aloft, with +Charmian and Iras.] + + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA No, I will not. +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise. Our size of sorrow, +Proportioned to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +[Enter Diomedes below.] + +How now? Is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' th' other side your monument. +His guard have brought him thither. + +[Enter Antony below, and the Guard bearing him.] + + +CLEOPATRA O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in. Darkling stand +The varying shore o' th' world! O Antony, Antony, +Antony! Help, Charmian! Help, Iras, help! +Help, friends below! Let's draw him hither. + +ANTONY Peace! +Not Caesar's valor hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumphed on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony, but woe 'tis so! + +ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying. Only +I here importune death awhile until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay upon thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA I dare not, dear, +Dear my lord, pardon, I dare not, +Lest I be taken. Not th' imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooched with me; if knife, drugs, serpents have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe. +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honor +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony.-- +Help me, my women!--We must draw thee up.-- +Assist, good friends. [They begin lifting him.] + +ANTONY O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed. How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness; +That makes the weight. Had I great Juno's power, +The strong-winged Mercury should fetch thee up +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little. +Wishers were ever fools. O, come, come, come! +[They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra.] +And welcome, welcome! Die when thou hast lived; +Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. [She kisses him.] + +ALL A heavy sight! + +ANTONY I am dying, Egypt, dying. +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak, and let me rail so high +That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offense. + +ANTONY One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honor with your safety--O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +ANTONY Gentle, hear me. +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust, +None about Caesar. + +ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at, but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived the greatest prince o' th' world, +The noblest, and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O see, my women, +The crown o' th' Earth doth melt.--My lord! +[Antony dies.] +O, withered is the garland of the war; +The soldier's pole is fall'n; young boys and girls +Are level now with men. The odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +CHARMIAN O, quietness, lady! +[Cleopatra swoons.] + +IRAS She's dead, too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN Lady! + +IRAS Madam! + +CHARMIAN O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS Royal Egypt! Empress! [Cleopatra stirs.] + +CHARMIAN Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my scepter at the injurious gods, +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught. +Patience is sottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad. Then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what, good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian? +My noble girls! Ah, women, women! Look, +Our lamp is spent; it's out. Good sirs, take heart. +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's +noble, +Let's do 't after the high Roman fashion +And make death proud to take us. Come, away. +This case of that huge spirit now is cold. +Ah women, women! Come, we have no friend +But resolution and the briefest end. +[They exit, bearing off Antony's body.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Caesar with Agrippa, Dolabella, Maecenas, +Gallus, and Proculeius, his council of war.] + + +CAESAR, [aside to Dolabella] +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield. +Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA Caesar, I shall. +[Dolabella exits.] + +[Enter Dercetus with the sword of Antony.] + + +CAESAR +Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'st +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETUS I am called Dercetus. +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served. Whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master, and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +CAESAR What is 't thou say'st? + +DERCETUS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack. The round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets +And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETUS He is dead, Caesar, +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife, but that self hand +Which writ his honor in the acts it did +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword. +I robbed his wound of it. Behold it stained +With his most noble blood. + +CAESAR Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA And strange it is +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MAECENAS His taints and honors +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity, but you gods will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touched. + +MAECENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +CAESAR O Antony, +I have followed thee to this, but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day +Or look on thine. We could not stall together +In the whole world. But yet let me lament +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts +That thou my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle--that our stars +Unreconciliable should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- + +[Enter an Egyptian.] + +But I will tell you at some meeter season. +The business of this man looks out of him. +We'll hear him what he says.--Whence are you? + +EGYPTIAN +A poor Egyptian yet, the Queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To th' way she's forced to. + +CAESAR Bid her have good heart. +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honorable and how kindly we +Determine for her. For Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +EGYPTIAN So the gods preserve thee. [He exits.] + +CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say +We purpose her no shame. Give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us, for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph. Go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS Caesar, I shall. +[Proculeius exits.] + +CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. [Gallus exits.] +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +ALL Dolabella! + +CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employed. He shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent, where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war, +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings. Go with me and see +What I can show in this. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras.] + + +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will. And it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds, +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change, +Which sleeps and never palates more the dung, +The beggar's nurse, and Caesar's. + +[Enter Proculeius.] + + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt, +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you, but +I do not greatly care to be deceived +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom. If he please +To give me conquered Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS Be of good cheer. +You're fall'n into a princely hand; fear nothing. +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace that it flows over +On all that need. Let me report to him +Your sweet dependency, and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness +Where he for grace is kneeled to. + +CLEOPATRA Pray you tell him +I am his fortune's vassal and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly +Look him i' th' face. + +PROCULEIUS This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +[Gallus and Soldiers enter and seize Cleopatra.] + + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised. +Guard her till Caesar come. + +IRAS Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O, Cleopatra, thou art taken, queen! + +CLEOPATRA, [drawing a dagger] +Quick, quick, good hands! + +PROCULEIUS, [seizing the dagger] Hold, worthy lady, hold! +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betrayed. + +CLEOPATRA What, of death, too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +Th' undoing of yourself. Let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA Where art thou, Death? +Come hither, come! Come, come, and take a queen +Worth many babes and beggars. + +PROCULEIUS O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat; I'll not drink, sir. +If idle talk will once be necessary-- +I'll not sleep neither. This mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinioned at your master's court, +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me; rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the waterflies +Blow me into abhorring; rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +[Enter Dolabella.] + + +DOLABELLA Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee. For the Queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best. Be gentle to her. +[To Cleopatra.] To Caesar I will speak what you +shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA Say I would die. +[Proculeius, Gallus, and Soldiers exit.] + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me. + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is 't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dreamt there was an emperor Antony. +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man. + +DOLABELLA If it might please you-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens, and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course and +lighted +The little O, the Earth. + +DOLABELLA Most sovereign creature-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean, his reared arm +Crested the world. His voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in 't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping. His delights +Were dolphin-like; they showed his back above +The element they lived in. In his livery +Walked crowns and crownets; realms and islands +were +As plates dropped from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA Cleopatra-- + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dreamt of? + +DOLABELLA Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie up to the hearing of the gods! +But if there be nor ever were one such, +It's past the size of dreaming. Nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy, yet t' imagine +An Antony were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight. Would I might never +O'ertake pursued success but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA I thank you, sir. +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir. + +DOLABELLA Though he be honorable-- + +CLEOPATRA He'll lead me, then, in triumph. + +DOLABELLA Madam, he will. I know 't. + +[Flourish. Enter Caesar, Proculeius, Gallus, Maecenas, +and others of his train.] + + +ALL Make way there! Caesar! + +CAESAR Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA It is the Emperor, madam. +[Cleopatra kneels.] + +CAESAR Arise. You shall not kneel. +I pray you, rise. Rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA Sir, the gods +Will have it thus. My master and my lord +I must obey. [She stands.] + +CAESAR Take to you no hard thoughts. +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA Sole sir o' th' world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear, but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +CAESAR Cleopatra, know +We will extenuate rather than enforce. +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may through all the world. 'Tis yours, and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. +[She holds out a paper.] + +CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels +I am possessed of. 'Tis exactly valued, +Not petty things admitted.--Where's Seleucus? + +[Enter Seleucus.] + + +SELEUCUS Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer. Let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing.--Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, I had rather seel my lips +Than to my peril speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra. I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA See, Caesar, O, behold +How pomp is followed! Mine will now be yours, +And should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild.--O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? Thou +shalt +Go back, I warrant thee! But I'll catch thine eyes +Though they had wings. Slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +CAESAR Good queen, let us entreat you-- + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honor of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal, and say +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation, must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me +Beneath the fall I have. [To Seleucus.] Prithee, go +hence, +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through th' ashes of my chance. Wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +CAESAR Forbear, Seleucus. +[Seleucus exits.] + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name-- +Are therefore to be pitied. + +CAESAR Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved nor what acknowledged +Put we i' th' roll of conquest. Still be 't yours! +Bestow it at your pleasure, and believe +Caesar's no merchant to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be +cheered. +Make not your thoughts your prisons. No, dear +queen, +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed and sleep. +Our care and pity is so much upon you +That we remain your friend. And so adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master and my lord! + +CAESAR Not so. Adieu. +[Flourish. Caesar and his train exit.] + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself. But hark thee, Charmian. +[She whispers to Charmian.] + +IRAS +Finish, good lady. The bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA, [to Charmian] Hie thee again. +I have spoke already, and it is provided. +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN Madam, I will. + +[Enter Dolabella.] + + +DOLABELLA +Where's the Queen? + +CHARMIAN Behold, sir. [She exits.] + +CLEOPATRA Dolabella. + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey, and within three days +You with your children will he send before. +Make your best use of this. I have performed +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA I your servant. +Adieu, good queen. I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. [He exits.] +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou an Egyptian puppet shall be shown +In Rome as well as I. Mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers shall +Uplift us to the view. In their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded +And forced to drink their vapor. + +IRAS The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors +Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune. The quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us and present +Our Alexandrian revels. Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' th' posture of a whore. + +IRAS O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't! For I am sure mine nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +[Enter Charmian.] + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch +My best attires. I am again for Cydnus +To meet Mark Antony. Sirrah Iras, go.-- +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed, +And when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee +leave +To play till Doomsday.--Bring our crown and all. +[Iras exits. A noise within.] +Wherefore's this noise? + +[Enter a Guardsman.] + + +GUARDSMAN Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your Highness' presence. +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. [Guardsman exits.] +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me. Now from head to foot +I am marble-constant. Now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +[Enter Guardsman and Countryman, with a basket.] + + +GUARDSMAN This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA Avoid, and leave him. [Guardsman exits.] +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there +That kills and pains not? + +COUNTRYMAN Truly I have him, but I would not be +the party that should desire you to touch him, for +his biting is immortal. Those that do die of it do +seldom or never recover. + +CLEOPATRA Remember'st thou any that have died on 't? + +COUNTRYMAN Very many, men and women too. I +heard of one of them no longer than yesterday--a +very honest woman, but something given to lie, as a +woman should not do but in the way of honesty-- +how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt. +Truly, she makes a very good report o' th' worm. +But he that will believe all that they say shall never +be saved by half that they do. But this is most +falliable, the worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA Get thee hence. Farewell. + +COUNTRYMAN I wish you all joy of the worm. +[He sets down the basket.] + +CLEOPATRA Farewell. + +COUNTRYMAN You must think this, look you, that the +worm will do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA Ay, ay, farewell. + +COUNTRYMAN Look you, the worm is not to be trusted +but in the keeping of wise people, for indeed there +is no goodness in the worm. + +CLEOPATRA Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +COUNTRYMAN Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, +for it is not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA Will it eat me? + +COUNTRYMAN You must not think I am so simple but +I know the devil himself will not eat a woman. I +know that a woman is a dish for the gods if the devil +dress her not. But truly these same whoreson devils +do the gods great harm in their women, for in every +ten that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA Well, get thee gone. Farewell. + +COUNTRYMAN Yes, forsooth. I wish you joy o' th' +worm. [He exits.] + +[Enter Iras bearing Cleopatra's royal regalia.] + + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe. Put on my crown. I have +Immortal longings in me. Now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip. +[Charmian and Iras begin to dress her.] +Yare, yare, good Iras, quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call. I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act. I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath.--Husband, I come! +Now to that name my courage prove my title. +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life.--So, have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian.--Iras, long farewell. +[She kisses them. Iras falls and dies.] +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA This proves me base. +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have.--Come, thou mortal +wretch, [She places an asp on her breast.] +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie. Poor venomous fool, +Be angry and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. +[She places an asp on her arm.] +What should I stay-- [Dies.] + +CHARMIAN In this wild world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, Death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparalleled. Downy windows, close, +[She closes Cleopatra's eyes.] +And golden Phoebus, never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal. Your crown's awry. +I'll mend it, and then play-- + +[Enter the Guard rustling in.] + + +FIRST GUARD +Where's the Queen? + +CHARMIAN Speak softly. Wake her not. + +FIRST GUARD +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN Too slow a messenger. +[She takes out an asp.] +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +FIRST GUARD +Approach, ho! All's not well. Caesar's beguiled. + +SECOND GUARD +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar. Call him. +[A Guardsman exits.] + +FIRST GUARD +What work is here, Charmian? Is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! [Charmian dies.] + +[Enter Dolabella.] + + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +SECOND GUARD All dead. + +DOLABELLA Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this. Thyself art coming +To see performed the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +[Enter Caesar and all his train, marching.] + + +ALL A way there, a way for Caesar! + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer: +That you did fear is done. + +CAESAR Bravest at the last, +She leveled at our purposes and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA Who was last with them? + +FIRST GUARD +A simple countryman that brought her figs. +This was his basket. + +CAESAR Poisoned, then. + +FIRST GUARD O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake. +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood, +And on the sudden dropped. + +CAESAR O, noble weakness! +If they had swallowed poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling; but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA Here on her breast +There is a vent of blood, and something blown. +The like is on her arm. + +FIRST GUARD +This is an aspic's trail, and these fig leaves +Have slime upon them, such as th' aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +CAESAR Most probable +That so she died, for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed, +And bear her women from the monument. +She shall be buried by her Antony. +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral, +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. +[They all exit, the Guards +bearing the dead bodies.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/as-you-like-it_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/as-you-like-it_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92f231c --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/as-you-like-it_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4224 @@ +As You Like It +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/as-you-like-it/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +ORLANDO, youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys +OLIVER, his elder brother +SECOND BROTHER, brother to Orlando and Oliver, named Jaques +ADAM, servant to Oliver and friend to Orlando +DENNIS, servant to Oliver +ROSALIND, daughter to Duke Senior +CELIA, Rosalind's cousin, daughter to Duke Frederick +TOUCHSTONE, a court Fool +DUKE FREDERICK, the usurping duke +CHARLES, wrestler at Duke Frederick's court +LE BEAU, a courtier at Duke Frederick's court +Attending Duke Frederick: + FIRST LORD + SECOND LORD +DUKE SENIOR, the exiled duke, brother to Duke Frederick +Lords attending Duke Senior in exile: + JAQUES + AMIENS + FIRST LORD + SECOND LORD +Attending Duke Senior in exile: + FIRST PAGE + SECOND PAGE +CORIN, a shepherd +SILVIUS, a young shepherd in love +PHOEBE, a disdainful shepherdess +AUDREY, a goat-keeper +WILLIAM, a country youth in love with Audrey +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a parish priest +HYMEN, god of marriage +Lords, Attendants, Musicians + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Orlando and Adam.] + + +ORLANDO As I remember, Adam, it was upon this +fashion bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand +crowns, and, as thou sayst, charged my brother on +his blessing to breed me well. And there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit. For my part, he +keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that "keeping," for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are +bred better, for, besides that they are fair with their +feeding, they are taught their manage and, to that +end, riders dearly hired. But I, his brother, gain +nothing under him but growth, for the which his +animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him +as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives +me, the something that nature gave me his countenance +seems to take from me. He lets me feed with +his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as +much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my +education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me, and the +spirit of my father, which I think is within me, +begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will no +longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy +how to avoid it. + +[Enter Oliver.] + + +ADAM Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he +will shake me up. [Adam steps aside.] + +OLIVER Now, sir, what make you here? + +ORLANDO Nothing. I am not taught to make anything. + +OLIVER What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that +which God made, a poor unworthy brother of +yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught +awhile. + +ORLANDO Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with +them? What prodigal portion have I spent that I +should come to such penury? + +OLIVER Know you where you are, sir? + +ORLANDO O, sir, very well: here in your orchard. + +OLIVER Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I +know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle +condition of blood you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better in that you +are the first-born, but the same tradition takes not +away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt +us. I have as much of my father in me as you, albeit I +confess your coming before me is nearer to his +reverence. + +OLIVER, [threatening Orlando] What, boy! + +ORLANDO, [holding off Oliver by the throat] Come, +come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO I am no villain. I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys. He was my father, and he is +thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this +hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out +thy tongue for saying so. Thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM, [coming forward] Sweet masters, be patient. For +your father's remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER, [to Orlando] Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO I will not till I please. You shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education. You have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentlemanlike +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it. Therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament. With that I will go buy my fortunes. +[Orlando releases Oliver.] + +OLIVER And what wilt thou do--beg when that is +spent? Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be +troubled with you. You shall have some part of your +will. I pray you leave me. + +ORLANDO I will no further offend you than becomes +me for my good. + +OLIVER, [to Adam] Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM Is "old dog" my reward? Most true, I have lost +my teeth in your service. God be with my old +master. He would not have spoke such a word. +[Orlando and Adam exit.] + +OLIVER Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I +will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither.--Holla, Dennis! + +[Enter Dennis.] + + +DENNIS Calls your Worship? + +OLIVER Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to +speak with me? + +DENNIS So please you, he is here at the door and +importunes access to you. + +OLIVER Call him in. [Dennis exits.] 'Twill be a good +way, and tomorrow the wrestling is. + +[Enter Charles.] + + +CHARLES Good morrow to your Worship. + +OLIVER Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news +at the new court? + +CHARLES There's no news at the court, sir, but the old +news. That is, the old duke is banished by his +younger brother the new duke, and three or four +loving lords have put themselves into voluntary +exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich +the new duke. Therefore he gives them good leave +to wander. + +OLIVER Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, +be banished with her father? + +CHARLES O, no, for the Duke's daughter her cousin so +loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile or have +died to stay behind her. She is at the court and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter, +and never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES They say he is already in the Forest of Arden, +and a many merry men with him; and there they +live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say +many young gentlemen flock to him every day and +fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden +world. + +OLIVER What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new +duke? + +CHARLES Marry, do I, sir, and I came to acquaint you +with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a +disposition to come in disguised against me to try a +fall. Tomorrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he +that escapes me without some broken limb shall +acquit him well. Your brother is but young and +tender, and for your love I would be loath to foil +him, as I must for my own honor if he come in. +Therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to +acquaint you withal, that either you might stay him +from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well +as he shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own +search and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, and +have by underhand means labored to dissuade him +from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is +the stubbornest young fellow of France, full of +ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good +parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me +his natural brother. Therefore use thy discretion. I +had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger. +And thou wert best look to 't, for if thou dost him +any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace +himself on thee, he will practice against thee by +poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, +and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by +some indirect means or other. For I assure thee-- +and almost with tears I speak it--there is not one so +young and so villainous this day living. I speak but +brotherly of him, but should I anatomize him to +thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must +look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he +come tomorrow, I'll give him his payment. If ever +he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. +And so God keep your Worship. + +OLIVER Farewell, good Charles. [Charles exits.] +Now will I stir this gamester. I hope I shall see an +end of him, for my soul--yet I know not why-- +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of all +sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much in +the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprized. But it shall not be so long; this wrestler +shall clear all. Nothing remains but that I kindle the +boy thither, which now I'll go about. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Rosalind and Celia.] + + +CELIA I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am +mistress of, and would you yet I were merrier? +Unless you could teach me to forget a banished +father, you must not learn me how to remember +any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA Herein I see thou lov'st me not with the full +weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished +father, had banished thy uncle, the Duke my father, +so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught +my love to take thy father for mine. So wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND Well, I will forget the condition of my estate +to rejoice in yours. + +CELIA You know my father hath no child but I, nor +none is like to have; and truly, when he dies, thou +shalt be his heir, for what he hath taken away from +thy father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection. By mine honor I will, and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster. Therefore, my sweet +Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND From henceforth I will, coz, and devise +sports. Let me see--what think you of falling in +love? + +CELIA Marry, I prithee do, to make sport withal; but +love no man in good earnest, nor no further in +sport neither than with safety of a pure blush thou +mayst in honor come off again. + +ROSALIND What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune +from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be +bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA 'Tis true, for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favoredly. + +ROSALIND Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's. Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in +the lineaments of nature. + +CELIA No? When Nature hath made a fair creature, +may she not by fortune fall into the fire? + +[Enter Touchstone.] + +Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, +hath not Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the +argument? + +ROSALIND Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, +when Fortune makes Nature's natural the +cutter-off of Nature's wit. + +CELIA Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, +but Nature's, who perceiveth our natural wits too +dull to reason of such goddesses, and hath sent +this natural for our whetstone, for always the dullness +of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. [To +Touchstone.] How now, wit, whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE Mistress, you must come away to your +father. + +CELIA Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE No, by mine honor, but I was bid to come +for you. + +ROSALIND Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE Of a certain knight that swore by his +honor they were good pancakes, and swore by his +honor the mustard was naught. Now, I'll stand to it, +the pancakes were naught and the mustard was +good, and yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA How prove you that in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE Stand you both forth now: stroke your +chins, and swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA By our beards (if we had them), thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE By my knavery (if I had it), then I were. +But if you swear by that that is not, you are not +forsworn. No more was this knight swearing by his +honor, for he never had any, or if he had, he had +sworn it away before ever he saw those pancakes or +that mustard. + +CELIA Prithee, who is 't that thou mean'st? + +TOUCHSTONE One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA My father's love is enough to honor him. +Enough. Speak no more of him; you'll be whipped +for taxation one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE The more pity that fools may not speak +wisely what wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA By my troth, thou sayest true. For, since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here +comes Monsieur Le Beau. + +[Enter Le Beau.] + + +ROSALIND With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their +young. + +ROSALIND Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA All the better. We shall be the more +marketable.--Bonjour, Monsieur Le Beau. What's +the news? + +LE BEAU Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA Sport? Of what color? + +LE BEAU What color, madam? How shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE Or as the destinies decrees. + +CELIA Well said. That was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE Nay, if I keep not my rank-- + +ROSALIND Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU You amaze me, ladies. I would have told you of +good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU I will tell you the beginning, and if it please +your Ladyships, you may see the end, for the best is +yet to do, and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA Well, the beginning that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU There comes an old man and his three sons-- + +CELIA I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU Three proper young men of excellent growth +and presence. + +ROSALIND With bills on their necks: "Be it known unto +all men by these presents." + +LE BEAU The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, +the Duke's wrestler, which Charles in a moment +threw him and broke three of his ribs, that there is +little hope of life in him. So he served the second, +and so the third. Yonder they lie, the poor old man +their father making such pitiful dole over them that +all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE But what is the sport, monsieur, that the +ladies have lost? + +LE BEAU Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE Thus men may grow wiser every day. It is +the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was +sport for ladies. + +CELIA Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND But is there any else longs to see this broken +music in his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU You must if you stay here, for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA Yonder sure they are coming. Let us now stay +and see it. + +[Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, +Charles, and Attendants.] + + +DUKE FREDERICK Come on. Since the youth will not be +entreated, his own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND, [to Le Beau] Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU Even he, madam. + +CELIA Alas, he is too young. Yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK How now, daughter and cousin? Are +you crept hither to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK You will take little delight in it, I can +tell you, there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth, I would fain dissuade him, but +he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK Do so. I'll not be by. +[He steps aside.] + +LE BEAU, [to Orlando] Monsieur the challenger, the +Princess calls for you. + +ORLANDO I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND Young man, have you challenged Charles the +wrestler? + +ORLANDO No, fair princess. He is the general challenger. +I come but in as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for +your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength. If you saw yourself with your eyes or knew +yourself with your judgment, the fear of your adventure +would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. +We pray you for your own sake to embrace your +own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND Do, young sir. Your reputation shall not +therefore be misprized. We will make it our suit to +the Duke that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny +so fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your +fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial, +wherein, if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that +was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is +willing to be so. I shall do my friends no wrong, for +I have none to lament me; the world no injury, for +in it I have nothing. Only in the world I fill up a +place which may be better supplied when I have +made it empty. + +ROSALIND The little strength that I have, I would it +were with you. + +CELIA And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND Fare you well. Pray heaven I be deceived in +you. + +CELIA Your heart's desires be with you. + +CHARLES Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother Earth? + +ORLANDO Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more +modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK, [coming forward] You shall try but +one fall. + +CHARLES No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat +him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded +him from a first. + +ORLANDO You mean to mock me after, you should not +have mocked me before. But come your ways. + +ROSALIND Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. +[Orlando and Charles wrestle.] + +ROSALIND O excellent young man! + +CELIA If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. +[Orlando throws Charles. Shout.] + +DUKE FREDERICK No more, no more. + +ORLANDO Yes, I beseech your Grace. I am not yet well +breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK Bear him away. +[Charles is carried off by Attendants.] +What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO Orlando, my liege, the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else. +The world esteemed thy father honorable, +But I did find him still mine enemy. +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this +deed +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well. Thou art a gallant youth. +I would thou hadst told me of another father. +[Duke exits with Touchstone, Le Beau, +Lords, and Attendants.] + +CELIA, [to Rosalind] +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son, and would not change that calling +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND, [to Celia] +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind. +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him. +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart.--Sir, you have well deserved. +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND, [giving Orlando a chain from her neck] +Gentleman, +Wear this for me--one out of suits with Fortune, +That could give more but that her hand lacks +means.-- +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA Ay.--Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO, [aside] +Can I not say "I thank you"? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND, [to Celia] +He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes. +I'll ask him what he would.--Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND Have with you. [To Orlando.] Fare you well. +[Rosalind and Celia exit.] + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando! Thou art overthrown. +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +[Enter Le Beau.] + + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause, and love, +Yet such is now the Duke's condition +That he misconsters all that you have done. +The Duke is humorous. What he is indeed +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir, and pray you tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners, +But yet indeed the smaller is his daughter. +The other is daughter to the banished duke, +And here detained by her usurping uncle +To keep his daughter company, whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well. +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you. Fare you well. +[Le Beau exits.] +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother, +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother. +But heavenly Rosalind! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Celia and Rosalind.] + + +CELIA Why, cousin! Why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy, +not a word? + +ROSALIND Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA No, thy words are too precious to be cast away +upon curs. Throw some of them at me. Come, lame +me with reasons. + +ROSALIND Then there were two cousins laid up, when +the one should be lamed with reasons, and the +other mad without any. + +CELIA But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND No, some of it is for my child's father. O, +how full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery. If we walk not in the trodden paths, +our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND I could shake them off my coat. These burs +are in my heart. + +CELIA Hem them away. + +ROSALIND I would try, if I could cry "hem" and have +him. + +CELIA Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND O, they take the part of a better wrestler +than myself. + +CELIA O, a good wish upon you. You will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest. Is it possible on +such a sudden you should fall into so strong a liking +with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND The Duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his +son dearly? By this kind of chase I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly. Yet I hate not +Orlando. + +ROSALIND No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND Let me love him for that, and do you love +him because I do. + +[Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.] + +Look, here comes the Duke. + +CELIA With his eyes full of anger. + +DUKE FREDERICK, [to Rosalind] +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK You, cousin. +Within these ten days if that thou beest found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND I do beseech your Grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me. +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your Highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK Thus do all traitors. +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself. +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor. +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter. There's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your Highness took his dukedom. +So was I when your Highness banished him. +Treason is not inherited, my lord, +Or if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? My father was no traitor. +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake; +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay. +It was your pleasure and your own remorse. +I was too young that time to value her, +But now I know her. If she be a traitor, +Why, so am I. We still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together, +And, wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee, and her smoothness, +Her very silence, and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool. She robs thee of thy name, +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more +virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips. +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have passed upon her. She is banished. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege. +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool.--You, niece, provide yourself. +If you outstay the time, upon mine honor +And in the greatness of my word, you die. +[Duke and Lords exit.] + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND I have more cause. + +CELIA Thou hast not, cousin. +Prithee, be cheerful. Know'st thou not the Duke +Hath banished me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one. +Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl? +No, let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go, and what to bear with us, +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out. +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far? +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, +And with a kind of umber smirch my face. +The like do you. So shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtal-ax upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will, +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside-- +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page, +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be called? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state: +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me. +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty, and not to banishment. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords, like +foresters.] + + +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which when it bites and blows upon my body +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +"This is no flattery. These are counselors +That feelingly persuade me what I am." +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. +And this our life, exempt from public haunt, +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones, and good in everything. + +AMIENS +I would not change it. Happy is your Grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +FIRST LORD Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And in that kind swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banished you. +Today my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood; +To the which place a poor sequestered stag +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt +Did come to languish. And indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase. And thus the hairy fool, +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on th' extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +FIRST LORD +O yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream: +"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou mak'st a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much." Then, being there +alone, +Left and abandoned of his velvet friends: +"'Tis right," quoth he. "Thus misery doth part +The flux of company." Anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him. "Ay," quoth Jaques, +"Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. +'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?" +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assigned and native dwelling place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +SECOND LORD +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR Show me the place. +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +FIRST LORD I'll bring you to him straight. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Duke Frederick with Lords.] + + +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be. Some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +FIRST LORD +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies her attendants of her chamber +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +SECOND LORD +My lord, the roinish clown at whom so oft +Your Grace was wont to laugh is also missing. +Hisperia, the Princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles, +And she believes wherever they are gone +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother. Fetch that gallant hither. +If he be absent, bring his brother to me. +I'll make him find him. Do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting.] + + +ORLANDO Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master, O my gentle master, +O my sweet master, O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! Why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? Why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong, and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny prizer of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours. Your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM O unhappy youth, +Come not within these doors. Within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives. +Your brother--no, no brother--yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son-- +Of him I was about to call his father, +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie, +And you within it. If he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practices. +This is no place, this house is but a butchery. +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food, +Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do; +Yet this I will not do, do how I can. +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame, +And unregarded age in corners thrown. +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age. Here is the gold. +All this I give you. Let me be your servant. +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty, +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility. +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty but kindly. Let me go with you. +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed. +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that do choke their service up +Even with the having. It is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. +But come thy ways. We'll go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee +To the last gasp with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years, many their fortunes seek, +But at fourscore, it is too late a week. +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well, and not my master's debtor. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Rosalind for Ganymede, Celia for Aliena, and +Clown, alias Touchstone.] + + +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE I care not for my spirits, if my legs were +not weary. + +ROSALIND I could find in my heart to disgrace my +man's apparel and to cry like a woman, but I must +comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose +ought to show itself courageous to petticoat. Therefore +courage, good Aliena. + +CELIA I pray you bear with me. I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE For my part, I had rather bear with you +than bear you. Yet I should bear no cross if I did +bear you, for I think you have no money in your +purse. + +ROSALIND Well, this is the Forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE Ay, now am I in Arden, the more fool I. +When I was at home I was in a better place, but +travelers must be content. + +ROSALIND Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +[Enter Corin and Silvius.] + +Look you who comes here, a young man and an old +in solemn talk. + +[Rosalind, Celia, and Touchstone step aside and +eavesdrop.] + + + +CORIN, [to Silvius] +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess, for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow. +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then never love so heartily. +If thou rememb'rest not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved. +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved. +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe! [He exits.] + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd, searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE And I mine. I remember when I was in +love I broke my sword upon a stone and bid him +take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I +remember the kissing of her batler, and the cow's +dugs that her pretty chopped hands had milked; +and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of +her, from whom I took two cods and, giving her +them again, said with weeping tears "Wear these for +my sake." We that are true lovers run into strange +capers. But as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature +in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND Thou speak'st wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own +wit till I break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove, this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE And mine, but it grows something stale +with me. + +CELIA I pray you, one of you question yond man, if he +for gold will give us any food. I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE, [to Corin] Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND Peace, fool. He's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE Your betters, sir. + +CORIN Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND, [to Touchstone] +Peace, I say. [As Ganymede, to Corin.] + Good even toyou, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed. +Here's a young maid with travel much oppressed, +And faints for succor. + +CORIN Fair sir, I pity her +And wish for her sake more than for mine own +My fortunes were more able to relieve her. +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze. +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality. +Besides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on. But what is, come see, +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying anything. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture, and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold. +Go with me. If you like upon report +The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others.] + +Song. + +AMIENS [sings] + Under the greenwood tree + Who loves to lie with me + And turn his merry note + Unto the sweet bird's throat, + Come hither, come hither, come hither. + Here shall he see + No enemy + But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS It will make you melancholy, Monsieur +Jaques. + +JAQUES I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS My voice is ragged. I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES I do not desire you to please me. I do desire +you to sing. Come, more, another stanzo. Call you +'em "stanzos"? + +AMIENS What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES Nay, I care not for their names. They owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank +you. But that they call "compliment" is like th' +encounter of two dog-apes. And when a man thanks +me heartily, methinks I have given him a penny and +he renders me the beggarly thanks. Come, sing. And +you that will not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS Well, I'll end the song.--Sirs, cover the while; +the Duke will drink under this tree.--He hath been +all this day to look you. + +JAQUES And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company. I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. + +Song. + + +ALL [together here.] + Who doth ambition shun + And loves to live i' th' sun, + Seeking the food he eats + And pleased with what he gets, + Come hither, come hither, come hither. + Here shall he see + No enemy + But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES Thus it goes: + If it do come to pass + That any man turn ass, + Leaving his wealth and ease + A stubborn will to please, + Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame. + Here shall he see + Gross fools as he, + An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS What's that "ducdame"? + +JAQUES 'Tis a Greek invocation to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep if I can. If I cannot, I'll rail +against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS And I'll go seek the Duke. His banquet is +prepared. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Orlando and Adam.] + + +ADAM Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for +food. Here lie I down and measure out my grave. +Farewell, kind master. [He lies down.] + +ORLANDO Why, how now, Adam? No greater heart in +thee? Live a little, comfort a little, cheer thyself a +little. If this uncouth forest yield anything savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to thee. +Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For my +sake, be comfortable. Hold death awhile at the +arm's end. I will here be with thee presently, and if +I bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee +leave to die. But if thou diest before I come, thou art +a mocker of my labor. Well said. Thou look'st +cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. Yet thou liest +in the bleak air. Come, I will bear thee to some +shelter, and thou shalt not die for lack of a dinner if +there live anything in this desert. Cheerly, good +Adam. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Duke Senior and Lords, like outlaws.] + + +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transformed into a beast, +For I can nowhere find him like a man. + +FIRST LORD +My lord, he is but even now gone hence. +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go seek him. Tell him I would speak with him. + +[Enter Jaques.] + + +FIRST LORD +He saves my labor by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR, [to Jaques] +Why, how now, monsieur? What a life is this +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily. + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool, I met a fool i' th' forest, +A motley fool. A miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool, +Who laid him down and basked him in the sun +And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms, and yet a motley fool. +"Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," quoth he, +"Call me not 'fool' till heaven hath sent me +fortune." +And then he drew a dial from his poke +And, looking on it with lack-luster eye, +Says very wisely "It is ten o'clock. +Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags. +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven. +And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, +And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, +And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool!--One that hath been a courtier, +And says "If ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it." And in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O, that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES It is my only suit, +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please, for so fools have. +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The "why" is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob. If not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley. Give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin in chiding sin; +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself, +And all th' embossed sores and headed evils +That thou with license of free foot hast caught +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES Why, who cries out on pride +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbor? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not on my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then. How then, what then? Let me see +wherein +My tongue hath wronged him. If it do him right, +Then he hath wronged himself. If he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies +Unclaimed of any man. + +[Enter Orlando, brandishing a sword.] + +But who comes here? + +ORLANDO Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not till necessity be served. + +JAQUES Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR, [to Orlando] +Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touched my vein at first. The thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility, yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say. +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES An you will not be answered with reason, I +must die. + +DUKE SENIOR, [to Orlando] +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food, and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you. +I thought that all things had been savage here, +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time, +If ever you have looked on better days, +If ever been where bells have knolled to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be, +In the which hope I blush and hide my sword. +[He sheathes his sword.] + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knolled to church, +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered. +And therefore sit you down in gentleness, +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be ministered. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limped in pure love. Till he be first sufficed, +Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank you; and be blessed for your good comfort. +[He exits.] + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy. +This wide and universal theater +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players. +They have their exits and their entrances, +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +Then the whining schoolboy with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slippered pantaloon +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +[Enter Orlando, carrying Adam.] + + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burden, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO I thank you most for him. + +ADAM So had you need.-- +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Fall to. I will not trouble you +As yet to question you about your fortunes.-- +Give us some music, and, good cousin, sing. + +[The Duke and Orlando continue their conversation, +apart.] + + +Song. + + +AMIENS [sings] + Blow, blow, thou winter wind. + Thou art not so unkind + As man's ingratitude. + Thy tooth is not so keen, + Because thou art not seen, + Although thy breath be rude. + Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly. + Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. + Then heigh-ho, the holly. + This life is most jolly. + + Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, + That dost not bite so nigh + As benefits forgot. + Though thou the waters warp, + Thy sting is not so sharp + As friend remembered not. + Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly. + Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. + Then heigh-ho, the holly. + This life is most jolly. + +DUKE SENIOR, [to Orlando] +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whispered faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limned and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither. I am the duke +That loved your father. The residue of your fortune +Go to my cave and tell me.--Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +[To Lords.] Support him by the arm. [To Orlando.] +Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, and Oliver.] + + +DUKE FREDERICK, [to Oliver] +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be. +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother wheresoe'er he is. +Seek him with candle. Bring him, dead or living, +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine, +Worth seizure, do we seize into our hands +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O, that your Highness knew my heart in this: +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou.--Well, push him out of doors, +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands. +Do this expediently, and turn him going. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Orlando, with a paper.] + + +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love. + And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, + Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind, these trees shall be my books, + And in their barks my thoughts I'll character, +That every eye which in this forest looks + Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere. +Run, run, Orlando, carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. +[He exits.] + +[Enter Corin and Touchstone.] + + +CORIN And how like you this shepherd's life, Master +Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a +good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it +is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very +well; but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile +life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me +well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is +tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my +humor well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it +goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy +in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN No more but that I know the more one sickens, +the worse at ease he is, and that he that wants +money, means, and content is without three good +friends; that the property of rain is to wet, and fire +to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep; and that +a great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that he +that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull +kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast +ever in court, shepherd? + +CORIN No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE Then thou art damned. + +CORIN Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted +egg, all on one side. + +CORIN For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE Why, if thou never wast at court, thou +never saw'st good manners; if thou never saw'st +good manners, then thy manners must be wicked, +and wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou +art in a parlous state, shepherd. + +CORIN Not a whit, Touchstone. Those that are good +manners at the court are as ridiculous in the +country as the behavior of the country is most +mockable at the court. You told me you salute not at +the court but you kiss your hands. That courtesy +would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE Instance, briefly. Come, instance. + +CORIN Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? +And is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome as +the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow. A better +instance, I say. Come. + +CORIN Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow +again. A more sounder instance. Come. + +CORIN And they are often tarred over with the surgery +of our sheep; and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE Most shallow man. Thou worms' meat in +respect of a good piece of flesh, indeed. Learn of the +wise and perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, +the very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, +shepherd. + +CORIN You have too courtly a wit for me. I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, +shallow man. God make incision in thee; thou art +raw. + +CORIN Sir, I am a true laborer. I earn that I eat, get that +I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, +glad of other men's good, content with my harm, +and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze +and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE That is another simple sin in you, to bring +the ewes and the rams together and to offer to get +your living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to +a bell-wether and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth +to a crooked-pated old cuckoldly ram, out of +all reasonable match. If thou be'st not damned for +this, the devil himself will have no shepherds. I +cannot see else how thou shouldst 'scape. + +[Enter Rosalind, as Ganymede.] + + +CORIN Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new +mistress's brother. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, reading a paper] + From the east to western Ind + No jewel is like Rosalind. + Her worth being mounted on the wind, + Through all the world bears Rosalind. + All the pictures fairest lined + Are but black to Rosalind. + Let no face be kept in mind + But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE I'll rhyme you so eight years together, +dinners and suppers and sleeping hours excepted. +It is the right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Out, fool. + +TOUCHSTONE For a taste: + If a hart do lack a hind, + Let him seek out Rosalind. + If the cat will after kind, + So be sure will Rosalind. + Wintered garments must be lined; + So must slender Rosalind. + They that reap must sheaf and bind; + Then to cart with Rosalind. + Sweetest nut hath sourest rind; + Such a nut is Rosalind. + He that sweetest rose will find + Must find love's prick, and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses. Why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Peace, you dull fool. I found +them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I'll graft it with you, and +then I shall graft it with a medlar. Then it will be +the earliest fruit i' th' country, for you'll be rotten +ere you be half ripe, and that's the right virtue of +the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE You have said, but whether wisely or no, +let the forest judge. + +[Enter Celia, as Aliena, with a writing.] + + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Peace. Here comes my sister +reading. Stand aside. + +CELIA, [as Aliena, reads] + Why should this a desert be? + For it is unpeopled? No. + Tongues I'll hang on every tree + That shall civil sayings show. + Some how brief the life of man + Runs his erring pilgrimage, + That the stretching of a span + Buckles in his sum of age; + Some of violated vows + 'Twixt the souls of friend and friend. + But upon the fairest boughs, + Or at every sentence' end, + Will I "Rosalinda" write, + Teaching all that read to know + The quintessence of every sprite + Heaven would in little show. + Therefore heaven nature charged + That one body should be filled + With all graces wide-enlarged. + Nature presently distilled + Helen's cheek, but not her heart, + Cleopatra's majesty, + Atalanta's better part, + Sad Lucretia's modesty. + Thus Rosalind of many parts + By heavenly synod was devised + Of many faces, eyes, and hearts + To have the touches dearest prized. + Heaven would that she these gifts should have + And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] O most gentle Jupiter, what +tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners +withal, and never cried "Have patience, +good people!" + +CELIA, [as Aliena] How now?--Back, friends. Shepherd, +go off a little.--Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable +retreat, though not with bag and baggage, yet +with scrip and scrippage. +[Touchstone and Corin exit.] + +CELIA Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND O yes, I heard them all, and more too, for +some of them had in them more feet than the verses +would bear. + +CELIA That's no matter. The feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND Ay, but the feet were lame and could not +bear themselves without the verse, and therefore +stood lamely in the verse. + +CELIA But didst thou hear without wondering how thy +name should be hanged and carved upon these +trees? + +ROSALIND I was seven of the nine days out of the +wonder before you came, for look here what I +found on a palm tree. [She shows the paper she +read.] I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras' +time that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly +remember. + +CELIA Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND Is it a man? + +CELIA And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you color? + +ROSALIND I prithee, who? + +CELIA O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to +meet, but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA Is it possible? + +ROSALIND Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary +vehemence, tell me who it is. + +CELIA O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that +out of all whooping! + +ROSALIND Good my complexion, dost thou think +though I am caparisoned like a man, I have a +doublet and hose in my disposition? One inch of +delay more is a South Sea of discovery. I prithee, +tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would +thou couldst stammer, that thou might'st pour this +concealed man out of thy mouth as wine comes out +of a narrow-mouthed bottle--either too much at +once, or none at all. I prithee take the cork out of +thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND Is he of God's making? What manner of +man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a +beard? + +CELIA Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful. Let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND Nay, but the devil take mocking. Speak sad +brow and true maid. + +CELIA I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND Orlando? + +CELIA Orlando. + +ROSALIND Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet +and hose? What did he when thou saw'st him? What +said he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What +makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains +he? How parted he with thee? And when shalt thou +see him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first. +'Tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. +To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND But doth he know that I am in this forest and +in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover. But take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. I +found him under a tree like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND It may well be called Jove's tree when it +drops forth such fruit. + +CELIA Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND Proceed. + +CELIA There lay he, stretched along like a wounded +knight. + +ROSALIND Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA Cry "holla" to thy tongue, I prithee. It curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND O, ominous! He comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA I would sing my song without a burden. Thou +bring'st me out of tune. + +ROSALIND Do you not know I am a woman? When I +think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA You bring me out. + +[Enter Orlando and Jaques.] + +Soft, comes he not here? + +ROSALIND 'Tis he. Slink by, and note him. +[Rosalind and Celia step aside.] + +JAQUES, [to Orlando] I thank you for your company, +but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO And so had I, but yet, for fashion sake, I +thank you too for your society. + +JAQUES God be wi' you. Let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES I pray you mar no more trees with writing love +songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO I pray you mar no more of my verses with +reading them ill-favoredly. + +JAQUES Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO Yes, just. + +JAQUES I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO There was no thought of pleasing you when +she was christened. + +JAQUES What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES You are full of pretty answers. Have you not +been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives and +conned them out of rings? + +ORLANDO Not so. But I answer you right painted cloth, +from whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES You have a nimble wit. I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? And we +two will rail against our mistress the world and all +our misery. + +ORLANDO I will chide no breather in the world but +myself, against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best +virtue. I am weary of you. + +JAQUES By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I +found you. + +ORLANDO He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, and +you shall see him. + +JAQUES There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES I'll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good +Monsieur Melancholy. [Jaques exits.] + +ROSALIND, [aside to Celia] I will speak to him like a +saucy lackey, and under that habit play the knave +with him. [As Ganymede.] Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO Very well. What would you? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I pray you, what is 't +o'clock? + +ORLANDO You should ask me what time o' day. There's +no clock in the forest. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Then there is no true lover +in the forest; else sighing every minute and +groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot of +time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO And why not the swift foot of time? Had not +that been as proper? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] By no means, sir. Time +travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell +you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, +who time gallops withal, and who he stands still +withal. + +ORLANDO I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Marry, he trots hard with a +young maid between the contract of her marriage +and the day it is solemnized. If the interim be but a +se'nnight, time's pace is so hard that it seems the +length of seven year. + +ORLANDO Who ambles time withal? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] With a priest that lacks Latin +and a rich man that hath not the gout, for the one +sleeps easily because he cannot study, and the other +lives merrily because he feels no pain--the one +lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, +the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious +penury. These time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] With a thief to the gallows, +for though he go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks +himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] With lawyers in the vacation, +for they sleep between term and term, and +then they perceive not how time moves. + +ORLANDO Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] With this shepherdess, my +sister, here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe +upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] As the cony that you see +dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO Your accent is something finer than you +could purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I have been told so of many. +But indeed an old religious uncle of mine taught +me to speak, who was in his youth an inland man, +one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in +love. I have heard him read many lectures against it, +and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched +with so many giddy offenses as he hath generally +taxed their whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO Can you remember any of the principal evils +that he laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] There were none principal. +They were all like one another as halfpence are, +every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow +fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO I prithee recount some of them. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] No, I will not cast away my +physic but on those that are sick. There is a man +haunts the forest that abuses our young plants with +carving "Rosalind" on their barks, hangs odes upon +hawthorns and elegies on brambles, all, forsooth, +deifying the name of Rosalind. If I could meet +that fancy-monger, I would give him some good +counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian of love +upon him. + +ORLANDO I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you tell +me your remedy. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] There is none of my uncle's +marks upon you. He taught me how to know a man +in love, in which cage of rushes I am sure you are +not prisoner. + +ORLANDO What were his marks? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] A lean cheek, which you +have not; a blue eye and sunken, which you have +not; an unquestionable spirit, which you have not; a +beard neglected, which you have not--but I pardon +you for that, for simply your having in beard is a +younger brother's revenue. Then your hose should +be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve +unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and everything +about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But +you are no such man. You are rather point-device in +your accouterments, as loving yourself than seeming +the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe +I love. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Me believe it? You may as +soon make her that you love believe it, which I +warrant she is apter to do than to confess she does. +That is one of the points in the which women still +give the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, +are you he that hangs the verses on the trees +wherein Rosalind is so admired? + +ORLANDO I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] But are you so much in love +as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO Neither rhyme nor reason can express how +much. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Love is merely a madness, +and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a +whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are +not so punished and cured is that the lunacy is so +ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I +profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Yes, one, and in this manner. +He was to imagine me his love, his mistress, +and I set him every day to woo me; at which time +would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be +effeminate, changeable, longing and liking, proud, +fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, +full of smiles; for every passion something, and for +no passion truly anything, as boys and women are, +for the most part, cattle of this color; would now +like him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then +forswear him; now weep for him, then spit at him, +that I drave my suitor from his mad humor of love +to a living humor of madness, which was to forswear +the full stream of the world and to live in a +nook merely monastic. And thus I cured him, and +this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as +clean as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not +be one spot of love in 't. + +ORLANDO I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I would cure you if you +would but call me Rosalind and come every day to +my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Go with me to it, and I'll +show it you; and by the way you shall tell me where +in the forest you live. Will you go? + +ORLANDO With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Nay, you must call me +Rosalind.--Come, sister, will you go? +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Touchstone and Audrey, followed by Jaques.] + + +TOUCHSTONE Come apace, good Audrey. I will fetch up +your goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? Am I the +man yet? Doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY Your features, Lord warrant us! What +features? + +TOUCHSTONE I am here with thee and thy goats, as the +most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the +Goths. + +JAQUES, [aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than +Jove in a thatched house. + +TOUCHSTONE When a man's verses cannot be understood, +nor a man's good wit seconded with the +forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more +dead than a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I +would the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY I do not know what "poetical" is. Is it honest +in deed and word? Is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE No, truly, for the truest poetry is the most +feigning, and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do +feign. + +AUDREY Do you wish, then, that the gods had made me +poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE I do, truly, for thou swear'st to me thou +art honest. Now if thou wert a poet, I might have +some hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favored; +for honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a +sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES, [aside] A material fool. + +AUDREY Well, I am not fair, and therefore I pray the +gods make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a +foul slut were to put good meat into an unclean +dish. + +AUDREY I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am +foul. + +TOUCHSTONE Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness; +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee; and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next village, +who hath promised to meet me in this place of the +forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES, [aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY Well, the gods give us joy. + +TOUCHSTONE Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful +heart, stagger in this attempt, for here we have no +temple but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. +But what though? Courage. As horns are odious, +they are necessary. It is said "Many a man knows no +end of his goods." Right: many a man has good +horns and knows no end of them. Well, that is the +dowry of his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. +Horns? Even so. Poor men alone? No, no. The +noblest deer hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the +single man therefore blessed? No. As a walled town +is more worthier than a village, so is the forehead of +a married man more honorable than the bare brow +of a bachelor. And by how much defense is better +than no skill, by so much is a horn more precious +than to want. + +[Enter Sir Oliver Martext.] + +Here comes Sir Oliver.--Sir Oliver Martext, you are +well met. Will you dispatch us here under this tree, +or shall we go with you to your chapel? + +OLIVER MARTEXT Is there none here to give the +woman? + +TOUCHSTONE I will not take her on gift of any man. + +OLIVER MARTEXT Truly, she must be given, or the +marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES, [coming forward] Proceed, proceed. I'll give +her. + +TOUCHSTONE Good even, good Monsieur What-you-call-'t. +How do you, sir? You are very well met. God +'ild you for your last company. I am very glad to see +you. Even a toy in hand here, sir. Nay, pray be +covered. + +JAQUES Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his +curb, and the falcon her bells, so man hath his +desires; and as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be +nibbling. + +JAQUES And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is. This fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot. Then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, +warp. + +TOUCHSTONE I am not in the mind but I were better to +be married of him than of another, for he is not like +to marry me well, and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my +wife. + +JAQUES Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE Come, sweet Audrey. We must be married, +or we must live in bawdry.--Farewell, good +Master Oliver, not + O sweet Oliver, + O brave Oliver, + Leave me not behind thee, +But + Wind away, + Begone, I say, + I will not to wedding with thee. +[Audrey, Touchstone, and Jaques exit.] + +OLIVER MARTEXT 'Tis no matter. Ne'er a fantastical +knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Rosalind, dressed as Ganymede, and Celia, +dressed as Aliena.] + + +ROSALIND Never talk to me. I will weep. + +CELIA Do, I prithee, but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA As good cause as one would desire. Therefore +weep. + +ROSALIND His very hair is of the dissembling color. + +CELIA Something browner than Judas's. Marry, his +kisses are Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND I' faith, his hair is of a good color. + +CELIA An excellent color. Your chestnut was ever the +only color. + +ROSALIND And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the +touch of holy bread. + +CELIA He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana. A +nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously. +The very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND But why did he swear he would come this +morning, and comes not? + +CELIA Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND Do you think so? + +CELIA Yes, I think he is not a pickpurse nor a horse-stealer, +but for his verity in love, I do think him as +concave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND Not true in love? + +CELIA Yes, when he is in, but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND You have heard him swear downright he +was. + +CELIA "Was" is not "is." Besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster. They are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the Duke your father. + +ROSALIND I met the Duke yesterday and had much +question with him. He asked me of what parentage +I was. I told him, of as good as he. So he laughed +and let me go. But what talk we of fathers when +there is such a man as Orlando? + +CELIA O, that's a brave man. He writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover, as a puny tilter that spurs his horse but on +one side breaks his staff like a noble goose; but all's +brave that youth mounts and folly guides. + +[Enter Corin.] + +Who comes here? + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complained of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly played +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND, [aside to Celia] O come, let us remove. +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +[As Ganymede, to Corin.] +Bring us to this sight, andyou shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Silvius and Phoebe.] + + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phoebe, do not scorn me. Do not, Phoebe. +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart th' accustomed sight of death makes +hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon. Will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +[Enter, unobserved, Rosalind as Ganymede, Celia as +Aliena, and Corin.] + + +PHOEBE +I would not be thy executioner. +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye. +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers. +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart, +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee. +Now counterfeit to swoon; why, now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee. +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it. Lean upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps. But now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; +Nor I am sure there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS O dear Phoebe, +If ever--as that ever may be near-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHOEBE But till that time +Come not thou near me. And when that time +comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not, +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, coming forward] +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no +beauty-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work.--'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes, too.-- +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it. +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream +That can entame my spirits to your worship.-- +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favored children. +'Tis not her glass but you that flatters her, +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her.-- +But, mistress, know yourself. Down on your knees +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love, +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can; you are not for all markets. +Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer. +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.-- +So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well. + +PHOEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together. +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND[,as Ganymede] He's fall'n in love with your +foulness. [(To Silvius.)] And she'll fall in love with +my anger. If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with +frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words. [(To +Phoebe.)] Why look you so upon me? + +PHOEBE For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine. +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by.-- +Will you go, sister?--Shepherd, ply her hard.-- +Come, sister.--Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud. Though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he.-- +Come, to our flock. +[She exits, with Celia and Corin.] + +PHOEBE, [aside] +Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: +"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?" + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phoebe-- + +PHOEBE Ha, what sayst thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS Sweet Phoebe, pity me. + +PHOEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be. +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHOEBE +Thou hast my love. Is not that neighborly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHOEBE Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee; +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too. +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employed. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps. Loose now and then +A scattered smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHOEBE +Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft, +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHOEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him. +'Tis but a peevish boy--yet he talks well-- +But what care I for words? Yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth--not very pretty-- +But sure he's proud--and yet his pride becomes +him. +He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offense, his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall--yet for his years he's tall. +His leg is but so-so--and yet 'tis well. +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mixed in his cheek: 'twas just the +difference +Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they marked +him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but for my part +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him. +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black, +And now I am remembered, scorned at me. +I marvel why I answered not again. +But that's all one: omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phoebe, with all my heart. + +PHOEBE I'll write it straight. +The matter's in my head and in my heart. +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Rosalind as Ganymede, and Celia as Aliena, +and Jaques.] + + +JAQUES I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better +acquainted with thee. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] They say you are a melancholy +fellow. + +JAQUES I am so. I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Those that are in extremity +of either are abominable fellows and betray +themselves to every modern censure worse than +drunkards. + +JAQUES Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Why then, 'tis good to be a +post. + +JAQUES I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which +is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; +nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, +which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor +the lover's, which is all these; but it is a melancholy +of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted +from many objects, and indeed the sundry +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] A traveller. By my faith, you +have great reason to be sad. I fear you have sold +your own lands to see other men's. Then to have +seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes +and poor hands. + +JAQUES Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] And your experience makes +you sad. I had rather have a fool to make me merry +than experience to make me sad--and to travel for +it too. + +[Enter Orlando.] + + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind. + +JAQUES Nay then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank +verse. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. +Look you lisp and wear strange suits, disable all +the benefits of your own country, be out of love with +your nativity, and almost chide God for making you +that countenance you are, or I will scarce think you +have swam in a gondola. +[Jaques exits.] +Why, how now, Orlando, where have you been all +this while? You a lover? An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of +my promise. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Break an hour's promise in +love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand +parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a +minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him +that Cupid hath clapped him o' th' shoulder, but I'll +warrant him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Nay, an you be so tardy, +come no more in my sight. I had as lief be wooed of +a snail. + +ORLANDO Of a snail? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Ay, of a snail, for though he +comes slowly, he carries his house on his head--a +better jointure, I think, than you make a woman. +Besides, he brings his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO What's that? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Why, horns, which such as +you are fain to be beholding to your wives for. But +he comes armed in his fortune and prevents the +slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO Virtue is no hornmaker, and my Rosalind is +virtuous. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] It pleases him to call you so, but he +hath a Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, to Orlando] Come, woo me, +woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like +enough to consent. What would you say to me now +an I were your very, very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Nay, you were better speak +first, and when you were gravelled for lack of +matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good +orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for +lovers lacking--God warn us--matter, the cleanliest +shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Then she puts you to entreaty, +and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO Who could be out, being before his beloved +mistress? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Marry, that should you if I +were your mistress, or I should think my honesty +ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Not out of your apparel, and +yet out of your suit. Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO I take some joy to say you are because I +would be talking of her. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Well, in her person I say I +will not have you. + +ORLANDO Then, in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] No, faith, die by attorney. +The poor world is almost six thousand years old, +and in all this time there was not any man died in +his own person, videlicet, in a love cause. Troilus +had his brains dashed out with a Grecian club, yet +he did what he could to die before, and he is one of +the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived +many a fair year though Hero had turned nun, if it +had not been for a hot midsummer night, for, good +youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont +and, being taken with the cramp, was +drowned; and the foolish chroniclers of that age +found it was Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies. +Men have died from time to time and worms have +eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO I would not have my right Rosalind of this +mind, for I protest her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] By this hand, it will not kill a +fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more +coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I +will grant it. + +ORLANDO Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and +Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Are you not good? + +ORLANDO I hope so. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Why then, can one desire +too much of a good thing?--Come, sister, you shall +be the priest and marry us.--Give me your hand, +Orlando.--What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO, [to Celia] Pray thee marry us. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] You must begin "Will you, +Orlando--" + +CELIA, [as Aliena] Go to.--Will you, Orlando, have to +wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO I will. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO Why now, as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Then you must say "I take +thee, Rosalind, for wife." + +ORLANDO I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I might ask you for your +commission, but I do take thee, Orlando, for my +husband. There's a girl goes before the priest, and +certainly a woman's thought runs before her +actions. + +ORLANDO So do all thoughts. They are winged. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Now tell me how long you +would have her after you have possessed her? + +ORLANDO Forever and a day. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Say "a day" without the +"ever." No, no, Orlando, men are April when they +woo, December when they wed. Maids are May +when they are maids, but the sky changes when +they are wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a +Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, more clamorous +than a parrot against rain, more newfangled than +an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey. I +will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, +and I will do that when you are disposed to be +merry. I will laugh like a hyena, and that when thou +art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] By my life, she will do as I +do. + +ORLANDO O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Or else she could not have +the wit to do this. The wiser, the waywarder. Make +the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the +casement. Shut that, and 'twill out at the keyhole. +Stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the +chimney. + +ORLANDO A man that had a wife with such a wit, he +might say "Wit, whither wilt?" + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Nay, you might keep that +check for it till you met your wife's wit going to +your neighbor's bed. + +ORLANDO And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Marry, to say she came to +seek you there. You shall never take her without her +answer unless you take her without her tongue. O, +that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's +occasion, let her never nurse her child +herself, for she will breed it like a fool. + +ORLANDO For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave +thee. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Alas, dear love, I cannot lack +thee two hours. + +ORLANDO I must attend the Duke at dinner. By two +o'clock I will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Ay, go your ways, go your +ways. I knew what you would prove. My friends told +me as much, and I thought no less. That flattering +tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one cast away, and +so, come, death. Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] By my troth, and in good +earnest, and so God mend me, and by all pretty +oaths that are not dangerous, if you break one jot of +your promise or come one minute behind your +hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promise, +and the most hollow lover, and the most +unworthy of her you call Rosalind that may be +chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful. +Therefore beware my censure, and keep your +promise. + +ORLANDO With no less religion than if thou wert indeed +my Rosalind. So, adieu. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Well, time is the old justice +that examines all such offenders, and let time try. +Adieu. +[Orlando exits.] + +CELIA You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate. +We must have your doublet and hose plucked +over your head and show the world what the bird +hath done to her own nest. + +ROSALIND O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love. But +it cannot be sounded; my affection hath an +unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal. + +CELIA Or rather bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND No, that same wicked bastard of Venus, that +was begot of thought, conceived of spleen, and born +of madness, that blind rascally boy that abuses +everyone's eyes because his own are out, let him be +judge how deep I am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I +cannot be out of the sight of Orlando. I'll go find a +shadow and sigh till he come. + +CELIA And I'll sleep. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Jaques and Lords, like foresters.] + + +JAQUES Which is he that killed the deer? + +FIRST LORD Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES, [to the other Lords] Let's present him to the +Duke like a Roman conqueror. And it would do well +to set the deer's horns upon his head for a branch of +victory.--Have you no song, forester, for this +purpose? + +SECOND LORD Yes, sir. + +JAQUES Sing it. 'Tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. + +Music. Song. + + +SECOND LORD [sings] + What shall he have that killed the deer? + His leather skin and horns to wear. + Then sing him home. + +[The rest shall bear this burden:] + + + Take thou no scorn to wear the horn. + It was a crest ere thou wast born. + Thy father's father wore it, + And thy father bore it. + The horn, the horn, the lusty horn + Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Rosalind dressed as Ganymede and Celia +dressed as Aliena.] + + +ROSALIND How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? +And here much Orlando. + +CELIA I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain +he hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth +to sleep. + +[Enter Silvius.] + +Look who comes here. + +SILVIUS, [to Rosalind] +My errand is to you, fair youth. +My gentle Phoebe did bid me give you this. +[He gives Rosalind a paper.] +I know not the contents, but as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor. Pardon me. +I am but as a guiltless messenger. +[Rosalind reads the letter.] + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer. Bear this, bear all. +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners. +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will, +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt. +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest. I know not the contents. +Phoebe did write it. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Come, come, you are a +fool, +And turned into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand. She has a leathern hand, +A freestone-colored hand. I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands. +She has a huswife's hand--but that's no matter. +I say she never did invent this letter. +This is a man's invention, and his hand. + +SILVIUS Sure it is hers. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style, +A style for challengers. Why, she defies me +Like Turk to Christian. Women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention, +Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet, +Yet heard too much of Phoebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +She Phoebes me. Mark how the tyrant writes. +[Read.] + Art thou god to shepherd turned, + That a maiden's heart hath burned? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +[Read.] + Why, thy godhead laid apart, + Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? + Whiles the eye of man did woo me, + That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. + If the scorn of your bright eyne + Have power to raise such love in mine, + Alack, in me what strange effect + Would they work in mild aspect? + Whiles you chid me, I did love. + How then might your prayers move? + He that brings this love to thee + Little knows this love in me, + And by him seal up thy mind + Whether that thy youth and kind + Will the faithful offer take + Of me, and all that I can make, + Or else by him my love deny, + And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS Call you this chiding? + +CELIA, [as Aliena] Alas, poor shepherd. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Do you pity him? No, he +deserves no pity.--Wilt thou love such a woman? +What, to make thee an instrument and play false +strains upon thee? Not to be endured. Well, go your +way to her, for I see love hath made thee a tame +snake, and say this to her: that if she love me, I +charge her to love thee; if she will not, I will never +have her unless thou entreat for her. If you be a true +lover, hence, and not a word, for here comes more +company. [Silvius exits.] + +[Enter Oliver.] + + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones. Pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheepcote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom; +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself. +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description-- +Such garments, and such years. "The boy is fair, +Of female favor, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister; the woman low +And browner than her brother." Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +It is no boast, being asked, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? +[He shows a stained handkerchief.] + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I am. What must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame, if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stained. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] I pray you tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you, +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell. He threw his eye aside-- +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an old oak, whose boughs were mossed with +age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched, ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back. About his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head, nimble in threats, approached +The opening of his mouth. But suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself +And, with indented glides, did slip away +Into a bush, under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch +When that the sleeping man should stir--for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead. +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother, +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +But to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the sucked and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so, +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling, +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Was 't you he rescued? + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +Was 't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I, but 'tis not I. I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +But for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed-- +As how I came into that desert place-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripped himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, +And cried in fainting upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound, +And after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. +[Rosalind faints.] + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +Why, how now, Ganymede, sweet Ganymede? + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] +There is more in it.--Cousin Ganymede. + +OLIVER Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND I would I were at home. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] We'll lead you thither.--I pray you, +will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER, [helping Rosalind to rise] Be of good cheer, +youth. You a man? You lack a man's heart. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I do so, I confess it. Ah, +sirrah, a body would think this was well-counterfeited. +I pray you tell your brother how well I +counterfeited. Heigh-ho. + +OLIVER This was not counterfeit. There is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to +be a man. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] So I do; but, i' faith, I should +have been a woman by right. + +CELIA, [as Aliena] Come, you look paler and paler. Pray +you draw homewards.--Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I shall devise something. +But I pray you commend my counterfeiting to him. +Will you go? +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Touchstone and Audrey.] + + +TOUCHSTONE We shall find a time, Audrey. Patience, +gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the +old gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most +vile Martext. But Audrey, there is a youth here in +the forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY Ay, I know who 'tis. He hath no interest in me +in the world. + +[Enter William.] + +Here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. +By my troth, we that have good wits have much to +answer for. We shall be flouting. We cannot hold. + +WILLIAM Good ev'n, Audrey. + +AUDREY God gi' good ev'n, William. + +WILLIAM, [to Touchstone] And good ev'n to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE Good ev'n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, +cover thy head. Nay, prithee, be covered. How old +are you, friend? + +WILLIAM Five-and-twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE A fair name. Wast born i' th' forest here? + +WILLIAM Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE "Thank God." A good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM 'Faith sir, so-so. + +TOUCHSTONE "So-so" is good, very good, very excellent +good. And yet it is not: it is but so-so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE Why, thou sayst well. I do now remember +a saying: "The fool doth think he is wise, but the +wise man knows himself to be a fool." The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth, +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE Then learn this of me: to have is to have. +For it is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured +out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth +empty the other. For all your writers do consent +that ipse is "he." Now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE He, sir, that must marry this woman. +Therefore, you clown, abandon--which is in the +vulgar "leave"--the society--which in the boorish +is "company"--of this female--which in the common +is "woman"; which together is, abandon the +society of this female, or, clown, thou perishest; or, +to thy better understanding, diest; or, to wit, I kill +thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, +thy liberty into bondage. I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel. I will bandy with +thee in faction. I will o'errun thee with policy. I +will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways. Therefore +tremble and depart. + +AUDREY Do, good William. + +WILLIAM, [to Touchstone] God rest you merry, sir. +[He exits.] + +[Enter Corin.] + + +CORIN Our master and mistress seeks you. Come away, +away. + +TOUCHSTONE Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey.--I attend, I +attend. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Orlando, with his arm in a sling, and Oliver.] + + +ORLANDO Is 't possible that on so little acquaintance +you should like her? That, but seeing, you should +love her? And loving, woo? And wooing, she should +grant? And will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting, but say with +me "I love Aliena"; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other. It +shall be to your good, for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I estate +upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +[Enter Rosalind, as Ganymede.] + + +ORLANDO You have my consent. Let your wedding be +tomorrow. Thither will I invite the Duke and all 's +contented followers. Go you and prepare Aliena, +for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, to Oliver] God save you, +brother. + +OLIVER And you, fair sister. [He exits.] + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] O my dear Orlando, how it +grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf. + +ORLANDO It is my arm. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I thought thy heart had been +wounded with the claws of a lion. + +ORLANDO Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Did your brother tell you +how I counterfeited to swoon when he showed me +your handkercher? + +ORLANDO Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] O, I know where you are. +Nay, 'tis true. There was never anything so sudden +but the fight of two rams, and Caesar's thrasonical +brag of "I came, saw, and overcame." For your +brother and my sister no sooner met but they +looked, no sooner looked but they loved, no sooner +loved but they sighed, no sooner sighed but they +asked one another the reason, no sooner knew the +reason but they sought the remedy; and in these +degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, +which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent +before marriage. They are in the very wrath +of love, and they will together. Clubs cannot part +them. + +ORLANDO They shall be married tomorrow, and I will +bid the Duke to the nuptial. But O, how bitter a +thing it is to look into happiness through another +man's eyes. By so much the more shall I tomorrow +be at the height of heart-heaviness by how much I +shall think my brother happy in having what he +wishes for. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Why, then, tomorrow I cannot +serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] I will weary you then no +longer with idle talking. Know of me then--for +now I speak to some purpose--that I know you are +a gentleman of good conceit. I speak not this that +you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge, +insomuch I say I know you are. Neither do I labor +for a greater esteem than may in some little measure +draw a belief from you to do yourself good, and +not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I +can do strange things. I have, since I was three year +old, conversed with a magician, most profound in +his art and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind +so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, +when your brother marries Aliena shall you marry +her. I know into what straits of fortune she is +driven, and it is not impossible to me, if it appear +not inconvenient to you, to set her before your eyes +tomorrow, human as she is, and without any +danger. + +ORLANDO Speak'st thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] By my life I do, which I +tender dearly, though I say I am a magician. Therefore +put you in your best array, bid your friends; for +if you will be married tomorrow, you shall, and to +Rosalind, if you will. + +[Enter Silvius and Phoebe.] + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of +hers. + +PHOEBE, [to Rosalind] +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I care not if I have. It is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you. +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd. +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHOEBE, [to Silvius] +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears, +And so am I for Phoebe. + +PHOEBE And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service, +And so am I for Phoebe. + +PHOEBE And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance, +And so am I for Phoebe. + +PHOEBE And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] And so am I for no +woman. + +PHOEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Why do you speak too, +"Why blame you me to love you?" + +ORLANDO To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] Pray you, no more of this. +'Tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the +moon. [(To Silvius.)] I will help you if I can. [(To +Phoebe.)] I would love you if I could.--Tomorrow +meet me all together. [(To Phoebe.)] I will marry +you if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married +tomorrow. [(To Orlando.)] I will satisfy you if ever I +satisfy man, and you shall be married tomorrow. +[(To Silvius.)] I will content you, if what pleases you +contents you, and you shall be married tomorrow. +[(To Orlando.)] As you love Rosalind, meet. [(To +Silvius.)] As you love Phoebe, meet.--And as I love +no woman, I'll meet. So fare you well. I have left +you commands. + +SILVIUS I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHOEBE Nor I. + +ORLANDO Nor I. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Touchstone and Audrey.] + + +TOUCHSTONE Tomorrow is the joyful day, Audrey. Tomorrow +will we be married. + +AUDREY I do desire it with all my heart, and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. + +[Enter two Pages.] + +Here come two of the banished duke's pages. + +FIRST PAGE Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and +a song. + +SECOND PAGE We are for you. Sit i' th' middle. +[They sit.] + +FIRST PAGE Shall we clap into 't roundly, without +hawking or spitting or saying we are hoarse, which +are the only prologues to a bad voice? + +SECOND PAGE I' faith, i' faith, and both in a tune like +two gypsies on a horse. + +Song. + + +PAGES [sing] + It was a lover and his lass, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no, + That o'er the green cornfield did pass + In springtime, the only pretty ring time, + When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. + Sweet lovers love the spring. + + Between the acres of the rye, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no, + These pretty country folks would lie + In springtime, the only pretty ring time, + When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. + Sweet lovers love the spring. + + This carol they began that hour, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no, + How that a life was but a flower + In springtime, the only pretty ring time, + When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. + Sweet lovers love the spring. + + And therefore take the present time, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonny-no, + For love is crowned with the prime, + In springtime, the only pretty ring time, + When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding. + Sweet lovers love the spring. + +TOUCHSTONE Truly, young gentlemen, though there +was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was +very untunable. + +FIRST PAGE You are deceived, sir. We kept time. We lost +not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE By my troth, yes. I count it but time lost +to hear such a foolish song. God be wi' you, and +God mend your voices.--Come, Audrey. +[They rise and exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver, +and Celia as Aliena.] + + +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe and sometimes do not, +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +[Enter Rosalind as Ganymede, Silvius, and Phoebe.] + + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +Patience once more whiles our compact is urged. +[To Duke.] You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, to Orlando] +And you say you will have her when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, to Phoebe] +You say you'll marry me if I be willing? + +PHOEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHOEBE So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede, to Silvius] +You say that you'll have Phoebe if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND, [as Ganymede] +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your +daughter,-- +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter.-- +Keep you your word, Phoebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd.-- +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her +If she refuse me. And from hence I go +To make these doubts all even. +[Rosalind and Celia exit.] + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favor. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter. +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born +And hath been tutored in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +[Enter Touchstone and Audrey.] + + +JAQUES There is sure another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called +fools. + +TOUCHSTONE Salutation and greeting to you all. + +JAQUES, [to Duke] Good my lord, bid him welcome. +This is the motley-minded gentleman that I have so +often met in the forest. He hath been a courtier, he +swears. + +TOUCHSTONE If any man doubt that, let him put me to +my purgation. I have trod a measure. I have flattered +a lady. I have been politic with my friend, +smooth with mine enemy. I have undone three +tailors. I have had four quarrels, and like to have +fought one. + +JAQUES And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE Faith, we met and found the quarrel was +upon the seventh cause. + +JAQUES How "seventh cause"?--Good my lord, like +this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE God 'ild you, sir. I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear, according as +marriage binds and blood breaks. A poor virgin, sir, +an ill-favored thing, sir, but mine own. A poor +humor of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will. Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor +house, as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR By my faith, he is very swift and +sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such +dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES But for the seventh cause. How did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE Upon a lie seven times removed.--Bear +your body more seeming, Audrey.--As thus, sir: I +did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard. He +sent me word if I said his beard was not cut well, he +was in the mind it was. This is called "the retort +courteous." If I sent him word again it was not well +cut, he would send me word he cut it to please +himself. This is called "the quip modest." If again it +was not well cut, he disabled my judgment. This is +called "the reply churlish." If again it was not well +cut, he would answer I spake not true. This is called +"the reproof valiant." If again it was not well cut, he +would say I lie. This is called "the countercheck +quarrelsome," and so to "the lie circumstantial," +and "the lie direct." + +JAQUES And how oft did you say his beard was not well +cut? + +TOUCHSTONE I durst go no further than the lie circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the lie direct, and +so we measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES Can you nominate in order now the degrees of +the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book, as +you have books for good manners. I will name you +the degrees: the first, "the retort courteous"; the +second, "the quip modest"; the third, "the reply +churlish"; the fourth, "the reproof valiant"; the +fifth, "the countercheck quarrelsome"; the sixth, +"the lie with circumstance"; the seventh, "the lie +direct." All these you may avoid but the lie direct, +and you may avoid that too with an "if." I knew +when seven justices could not take up a quarrel, but +when the parties were met themselves, one of them +thought but of an "if," as: "If you said so, then I said +so." And they shook hands and swore brothers. +Your "if" is the only peacemaker: much virtue in +"if." + +JAQUES, [to Duke] Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? +He's as good at anything and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, +and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +[Enter Hymen, Rosalind, and Celia. Still music.] + + +HYMEN + Then is there mirth in heaven + When earthly things made even + Atone together. + Good duke, receive thy daughter. + Hymen from heaven brought her, + Yea, brought her hither, + That thou mightst join her hand with his, + Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND, [to Duke] +To you I give myself, for I am yours. +[To Orlando.] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHOEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu. + +ROSALIND, [to Duke] +I'll have no father, if you be not he. +[To Orlando.] I'll have no husband, if you be not he, +[To Phoebe.] Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not +she. + +HYMEN + Peace, ho! I bar confusion. + 'Tis I must make conclusion + Of these most strange events. + Here's eight that must take hands + To join in Hymen's bands, + If truth holds true contents. +[To Rosalind and Orlando.] + You and you no cross shall part. +[To Celia and Oliver.] + You and you are heart in heart. +[To Phoebe.] + You to his love must accord + Or have a woman to your lord. +[To Audrey and Touchstone.] + You and you are sure together + As the winter to foul weather. +[To All.] + Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing, + Feed yourselves with questioning, + That reason wonder may diminish + How thus we met, and these things finish. + +Song. + + + Wedding is great Juno's crown, + O blessed bond of board and bed. + 'Tis Hymen peoples every town. + High wedlock then be honored. + Honor, high honor, and renown + To Hymen, god of every town. + + +DUKE SENIOR, [to Celia] +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me, +Even daughter, welcome in no less degree. + +PHOEBE, [to Silvius] +I will not eat my word. Now thou art mine, +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +[Enter Second Brother, Jaques de Boys.] + + +SECOND BROTHER +Let me have audience for a word or two. +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Addressed a mighty power, which were on foot +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword; +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came, +Where, meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banished brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR Welcome, young man. +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.-- +First, in this forest let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot, +And, after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity, +And fall into our rustic revelry.-- +Play, music.--And you brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heaped in joy to th' measures fall. + +JAQUES, [to Second Brother] +Sir, by your patience: if I heard you rightly, +The Duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court. + +SECOND BROTHER He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I. Out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learned. +[To Duke.] You to your former honor I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it. +[To Orlando.] You to a love that your true faith doth +merit. +[To Oliver.] You to your land, and love, and great +allies. +[To Silvius.] You to a long and well-deserved bed. +[To Touchstone.] And you to wrangling, for thy +loving voyage +Is but for two months victualled.--So to your +pleasures. +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime, I. What you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandoned cave. [He exits.] + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed. We'll begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. +[Dance. All but Rosalind exit.] + +EPILOGUE. +========= + +ROSALIND It is not the fashion to see the lady the +epilogue, but it is no more unhandsome than to see +the lord the prologue. If it be true that good wine +needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue. Yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then that am neither +a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with you in +the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished like a +beggar; therefore to beg will not become me. My +way is to conjure you, and I'll begin with the +women. I charge you, O women, for the love you +bear to men, to like as much of this play as please +you. And I charge you, O men, for the love you bear +to women--as I perceive by your simpering, none +of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman, I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that +pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths +that I defied not. And I am sure as many as have +good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths will for +my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. +[She exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/coriolanus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/coriolanus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aef8c89 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/coriolanus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5844 @@ +Coriolanus +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/coriolanus/ +Created on May 11, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.1 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +Caius MARTIUS, later Caius Martius CORIOLANUS +VOLUMNIA, his mother +VIRGILIA, his wife +YOUNG MARTIUS, their son +VALERIA, friend to Volumnia and Virgilia +A GENTLEWOMAN, Volumnia's attendant +MENENIUS Agrippa, patrician +COMINIUS, patrician and general +Titus LARTIUS, patrician and military officer +SICINIUS Velutus, tribune +Junius BRUTUS, tribune +Roman SENATORS, PATRICIANS, NOBLES +Roman LIEUTENANT +Roman OFFICERS +Roman AEDILES +Roman HERALD +Roman SOLDIERS +Roman CITIZENS or PLEBEIANS +Roman MESSENGERS +A ROMAN defector, Nicanor +Tullus AUFIDIUS, general of the Volscians +Volscian CONSPIRATORS of his faction +Three of his SERVINGMEN +Volscian SENATORS, LORDS +Volscian LIEUTENANT +Volscian SOLDIERS +Two of the Volscian WATCH +Volscian PEOPLE +A VOLSCIAN spy, Adrian +CITIZEN of Antium +Roman Lords, Gentry, Captains, Lictors, Trumpeters, Drummers, Musicians, Attendants, and Usher + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a company of mutinous Citizens with staves, +clubs, and other weapons.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN Before we proceed any further, hear me +speak. + +ALL Speak, speak! + +FIRST CITIZEN You are all resolved rather to die than to +famish? + +ALL Resolved, resolved! + +FIRST CITIZEN First, you know Caius Martius is chief +enemy to the people. + +ALL We know 't, we know 't! + +FIRST CITIZEN Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at +our own price. Is 't a verdict? + +ALL No more talking on 't; let it be done. Away, away! + +SECOND CITIZEN One word, good citizens. + +FIRST CITIZEN We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians +good. What authority surfeits on would +relieve us. If they would yield us but the superfluity +while it were wholesome, we might guess they +relieved us humanely. But they think we are too +dear. The leanness that afflicts us, the object of our +misery, is as an inventory to particularize their +abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them. Let +us revenge this with our pikes ere we become +rakes; for the gods know I speak this in hunger for +bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +SECOND CITIZEN Would you proceed especially against +Caius Martius? + +ALL Against him first. He's a very dog to the +commonalty. + +SECOND CITIZEN Consider you what services he has +done for his country? + +FIRST CITIZEN Very well, and could be content to give +him good report for 't, but that he pays himself +with being proud. + +SECOND CITIZEN Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +FIRST CITIZEN I say unto you, what he hath done +famously he did it to that end. Though soft-conscienced +men can be content to say it was for +his country, he did it to please his mother and to be +partly proud, which he is, even to the altitude of +his virtue. + +SECOND CITIZEN What he cannot help in his nature you +account a vice in him. You must in no way say he +is covetous. + +FIRST CITIZEN If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations. +He hath faults, with surplus, to tire in +repetition. [(Shouts within.)] What shouts are these? +The other side o' th' city is risen. Why stay we prating +here? To th' Capitol! + +ALL Come, come! + +[Enter Menenius Agrippa.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN Soft, who comes here? + +SECOND CITIZEN Worthy Menenius Agrippa, one that +hath always loved the people. + +FIRST CITIZEN He's one honest enough. Would all the +rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work 's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go +you +With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you. + +SECOND CITIZEN Our business is not unknown to th' +Senate. They have had inkling this fortnight what +we intend to do, which now we'll show 'em in +deeds. They say poor suitors have strong breaths; +they shall know we have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest +neighbors, +Will you undo yourselves? + +SECOND CITIZEN +We cannot, sir; we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' th' state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +SECOND CITIZEN Care for us? True, indeed! They ne'er +cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their +storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for +usury to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome +act established against the rich, and provide +more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; +and there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must confess yourselves wondrous +malicious +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale. It may be you have heard it, +But since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +SECOND CITIZEN Well, I'll hear it, sir; yet you must not +think to fob off our disgrace with a tale. But, an 't +please you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebelled against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' th' midst o' th' body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labor with the rest, where th' other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answered-- + +SECOND CITIZEN Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To th' discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +SECOND CITIZEN Your belly's answer--what? +The kingly crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counselor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter, +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks. What then? What then? + +SECOND CITIZEN +Should by the cormorant belly be restrained, +Who is the sink o' th' body-- + +MENENIUS Well, what then? + +SECOND CITIZEN +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS I will tell you, +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'st hear the belly's answer. + +SECOND CITIZEN +You're long about it. + +MENENIUS Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answered: +"True is it, my incorporate friends," quoth he, +"That I receive the general food at first +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the storehouse and the shop +Of the whole body. But, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood +Even to the court, the heart, to th' seat o' th' brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live. And though that all at once, +You, my good friends"--this says the belly, mark +me-- + +SECOND CITIZEN +Ay, sir, well, well. + +MENENIUS "Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran." What say you to 't? + +SECOND CITIZEN +It was an answer. How apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members. For examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' th' common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +SECOND CITIZEN I the great toe? Why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' th' lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou goest foremost. +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs. +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +[Enter Caius Martius.] + +Hail, noble Martius. + +MARTIUS +Thanks.--What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +SECOND CITIZEN We have ever your good word. + +MARTIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you; +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese. You are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offense subdues him, +And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favors swims with fins of lead, +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang you! Trust +you? +With every minute you do change a mind +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another?--What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates, whereof they say +The city is well stored. + +MARTIUS Hang 'em! They say? +They'll sit by th' fire and presume to know +What's done i' th' Capitol, who's like to rise, +Who thrives, and who declines; side factions and +give out +Conjectural marriages, making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's grain +enough? +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth +And let me use my sword, I'd make a quarry +With thousands of these quartered slaves as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARTIUS They are dissolved. Hang +'em! +They said they were an-hungry, sighed forth +proverbs +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent +not +Corn for the rich men only. With these shreds +They vented their complainings, which being +answered +And a petition granted them--a strange one, +To break the heart of generosity +And make bold power look pale--they threw their +caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS What is granted them? + +MARTIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice. One's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. 'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroofed the city +Ere so prevailed with me. It will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS This is strange. + +MARTIUS Go get you home, you fragments. + +[Enter a Messenger hastily.] + + +MESSENGER +Where's Caius Martius? + +MARTIUS Here. What's the matter? + +MESSENGER +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARTIUS +I am glad on 't. Then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. + +[Enter Sicinius Velutus, Junius Brutus, (two Tribunes); +Cominius, Titus Lartius, with other Senators.] + +See our best elders. + +FIRST SENATOR +Martius, 'tis true that you have lately told us: +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARTIUS They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And, were I anything but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS You have fought together? + +MARTIUS +Were half to half the world by th' ears and he +Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make +Only my wars with him. He is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +FIRST SENATOR Then, worthy Martius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARTIUS Sir, it is, +And I am constant.--Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? Stand'st out? + +LARTIUS No, Caius Martius, +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t' other +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS O, true bred! + +FIRST SENATOR +Your company to th' Capitol, where I know +Our greatest friends attend us. + +LARTIUS, [to Cominius] Lead you on.-- +[To Martius.] Follow Cominius. We must follow you; +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS Noble Martius. + +FIRST SENATOR, [to the Citizens] +Hence to your homes, begone. + +MARTIUS Nay, let them follow. +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. +[Citizens steal away.] +Worshipful mutineers, +Your valor puts well forth.--Pray follow. +[They exit. Sicinius and Brutus remain.] + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Martius? + +BRUTUS He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people-- + +BRUTUS +Marked you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS Nay, but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods-- + +SICINIUS Bemock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him! He is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon. But I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, cannot +Better be held nor more attained than by +A place below the first; for what miscarries +Shall be the General's fault, though he perform +To th' utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Martius "O, if he +Had borne the business!" + +SICINIUS Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Martius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS Come. +Half all Cominius' honors are to Martius, +Though Martius earned them not, and all his faults +To Martius shall be honors, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS Let's hence and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS Let's along. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Tullus Aufidius with Senators of Corioles.] + + +FIRST SENATOR +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS Is it not yours? +Whatever have been thought on in this state +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence. These are the words--I think +I have the letter here. Yes, here it is. +[(He reads.)] They have pressed a power, but it is not +known +Whether for east or west. The dearth is great. +The people mutinous; and, it is rumored, +Cominius, Martius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent. Most likely 'tis for you. +Consider of it. + +FIRST SENATOR Our army's in the field. +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretenses veiled till when +They needs must show themselves, which, in the +hatching, +It seemed, appeared to Rome. By the discovery +We shall be shortened in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +SECOND SENATOR Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands. +Let us alone to guard Corioles. +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring up your army. But I think you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your Honors. +If we and Caius Martius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +ALL The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS And keep your Honors safe! + +FIRST SENATOR Farewell. + +SECOND SENATOR Farewell. + +ALL Farewell. +[All exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Volumnia and Virgilia, mother and wife +to Martius. They set them down on two low stools +and sew.] + + +VOLUMNIA I pray you, daughter, sing, or express yourself +in a more comfortable sort. If my son were my +husband, I should freelier rejoice in that absence +wherein he won honor than in the embracements +of his bed where he would show most love. When +yet he was but tender-bodied and the only son of +my womb, when youth with comeliness plucked +all gaze his way, when for a day of kings' entreaties +a mother should not sell him an hour from her beholding, +I, considering how honor would become +such a person--that it was no better than picture-like +to hang by th' wall, if renown made it not +stir--was pleased to let him seek danger where he +was like to find fame. To a cruel war I sent him, +from whence he returned, his brows bound with +oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not more in joy +at first hearing he was a man-child than now in +first seeing he had proved himself a man. + +VIRGILIA But had he died in the business, madam, how +then? + +VOLUMNIA Then his good report should have been my +son; I therein would have found issue. Hear me +profess sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my +love alike and none less dear than thine and my +good Martius, I had rather had eleven die nobly +for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out +of action. + +[Enter a Gentlewoman.] + + +GENTLEWOMAN Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to +visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA Indeed you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair; +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him. +Methinks I see him stamp thus and call thus: +"Come on, you cowards! You were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome." His bloody brow +With his mailed hand then wiping, forth he goes +Like to a harvestman that's tasked to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow? O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! It more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, looked not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning.--Tell Valeria +We are fit to bid her welcome. [Gentlewoman exits.] + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius' head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +[Enter Valeria with an Usher and a Gentlewoman.] + + +VALERIA My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA I am glad to see your Ladyship. + +VALERIA How do you both? You are manifest housekeepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in +good faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA I thank your Ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA He had rather see the swords and hear a +drum than look upon his schoolmaster. + +VALERIA O' my word, the father's son! I'll swear 'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together. H'as such a confirmed +countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly, and when he caught it, he let it go again, +and after it again, and over and over he comes, +and up again, catched it again. Or whether his fall +enraged him or how 'twas, he did so set his teeth +and tear it. O, I warrant how he mammocked it! + +VOLUMNIA One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA A crack, madam. + +VALERIA Come, lay aside your stitchery. I must have +you play the idle huswife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA No, good madam, I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA Not out of doors? + +VOLUMNIA She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA Indeed, no, by your patience. I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably. +Come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA I will wish her speedy strength and visit her +with my prayers, but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA 'Tis not to save labor, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA You would be another Penelope. Yet they say +all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come, I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will +not forth. + +VALERIA In truth, la, go with me, and I'll tell you excellent +news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA Verily, I do not jest with you. There came +news from him last night. + +VIRGILIA Indeed, madam! + +VALERIA In earnest, it's true. I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth, against +whom Cominius the General is gone with one +part of our Roman power. Your lord and Titus Lartius +are set down before their city Corioles. They +nothing doubt prevailing, and to make it brief +wars. This is true, on mine honor, and so, I pray, go +with us. + +VIRGILIA Give me excuse, good madam. I will obey you +in everything hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA Let her alone, lady. As she is now, she will +but disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA In troth, I think she would.--Fare you well, +then.--Come, good sweet lady.--Prithee, Virgilia, +turn thy solemness out o' door, and go along with +us. + +VIRGILIA No, at a word, madam. Indeed, I must not. I +wish you much mirth. + +VALERIA Well, then, farewell. +[Ladies exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Trumpet, Drum, +and Colors, with Captains and Soldiers, as before +the city of Corioles. To them a Messenger.] + + +MARTIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARTIUS 'Tis done. + +LARTIUS Agreed. + +MARTIUS, [to Messenger] +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +MESSENGER +They lie in view but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So the good horse is mine. + +MARTIUS I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him. Lend you him I will +For half a hundred years.--Summon the town. + +MARTIUS How far off lie these armies? + +MESSENGER Within this mile and half. + +MARTIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from +hence +To help our fielded friends!--Come, blow thy blast. +[They sound a parley.] + +[Enter two Senators with others on the walls of Corioles.] + +Tullus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +FIRST SENATOR +No, nor a man that fears you less than he: +That's lesser than a little. [Drum afar off.] +Hark, our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls +Rather than they shall pound us up. Our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we have but pinned with +rushes. +They'll open of themselves. [Alarum far off.] +Hark you, far off! +There is Aufidius. List what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. +[They exit from the walls.] + +MARTIUS O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction.--Ladders, ho! + +[Enter the Army of the Volsces as through the city gates.] + + +MARTIUS +They fear us not but issue forth their city.-- +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields.--Advance, +brave Titus. +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath.--Come on, my +fellows! +He that retires, I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. +[Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches.] +[They exit, with the Volsces following.] + +[Enter Martius cursing, with Roman soldiers.] + + +MARTIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! You herd of--Boils and +plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorred +Farther than seen, and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind. Backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you. Look to 't. Come on! +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches. Follow 's! + +[Another alarum. The Volsces re-enter and are driven +back to the gates of Corioles, which open to admit +them.] + +So, now the gates are ope. Now prove good +seconds! +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers. Mark me, and do the like. +[Martius follows the fleeing Volsces through +the gates, and is shut in.] + +FIRST SOLDIER Foolhardiness, not I. + +SECOND SOLDIER Nor I. + +FIRST SOLDIER See they have shut him in. +[Alarum continues.] + +ALL To th' pot, I warrant him. + +[Enter Titus Lartius.] + + +LARTIUS +What is become of Martius? + +ALL Slain, sir, doubtless. + +FIRST SOLDIER +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters, who upon the sudden +Clapped to their gates. He is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS O, noble fellow, +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And when it bows, stand'st up! Thou art left, +Martius. +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes, but with thy grim looks and +The thunderlike percussion of thy sounds +Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +[Enter Martius, bleeding, as if from Corioles, assaulted +by the enemy.] + + +FIRST SOLDIER Look, sir. + +LARTIUS O, 'tis Martius! +Let's fetch him off or make remain alike. +[They fight, and all enter the city, exiting the stage.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter certain Romans, with spoils.] + + +FIRST ROMAN This will I carry to Rome. + +SECOND ROMAN And I this. + +THIRD ROMAN A murrain on 't! I took this for silver. + +[Enter Martius, and Titus Lartius with a Trumpet.] + + +MARTIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a cracked drachma. Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them! +[The Romans with spoils exit.] +[Alarum continues still afar off.] +And hark, what noise the General makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans. Then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city, +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS Worthy sir, thou bleed'st. +Thy exercise hath been too violent +For a second course of fight. + +MARTIUS Sir, praise me not. +My work hath yet not warmed me. Fare you well. +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus +I will appear and fight. + +LARTIUS Now the fair goddess Fortune +Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARTIUS Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So farewell. + +LARTIUS Thou worthiest Martius! [Martius exits.] +Go sound thy trumpet in the marketplace. +Call thither all the officers o' th' town, +Where they shall know our mind. Away! +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Cominius as it were in retire, with Soldiers.] + + +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends. Well fought! We are come +off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands +Nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. The Roman gods +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling fronts +encount'ring, +May give you thankful sacrifice! + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +Thy news? + +MESSENGER +The citizens of Corioles have issued +And given to Lartius and to Martius battle. +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS Though thou speakest truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. How long is 't +since? + +MESSENGER Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums. +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour +And bring thy news so late? + +MESSENGER Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about; else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. [He exits.] + +[Enter Martius, bloody.] + + +COMINIUS Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flayed? O gods, +He has the stamp of Martius, and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARTIUS Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor +More than I know the sound of Martius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +MARTIUS Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARTIUS O, let me clip you +In arms as sound as when I wooed, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done +And tapers burnt to bedward! [They embrace.] + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, how is 't with Titus Lartius? + +MARTIUS +As with a man busied about decrees, +Condemning some to death and some to exile; +Ransoming him or pitying, threat'ning th' other; +Holding Corioles in the name of Rome +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? Call him hither. + +MARTIUS Let him alone. +He did inform the truth. But for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! Tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunned the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS But how prevailed you? + +MARTIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? Are you lords o' th' field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Martius, we have at disadvantage fought +And did retire to win our purpose. + +MARTIUS +How lies their battle? Know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS As I guess, +Martius, +Their bands i' th' vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARTIUS I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By th' blood we have shed together, by th' vows we +have made +To endure friends, that you directly set me +Against Aufidius and his Antiates, +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking. Take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARTIUS Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smeared; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life, +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus to express his disposition +And follow Martius. [He waves his sword.] +[They all shout and wave their swords, +take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps.] +O, me alone! Make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? None of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select from all. +The rest shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obeyed. Please you to march, +And I shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS March on, my fellows. +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Titus Lartius, having set a guard upon Corioles, going +with Drum and Trumpet toward Cominius and Caius +Martius, enters with a Lieutenant, other Soldiers, +and a Scout.] + + +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded. Keep your duties +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid; the rest will serve +For a short holding. If we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +LIEUTENANT Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS Hence, and shut your gates upon 's. +[(To the Scout.)] Our guider, come. To th' Roman +camp conduct us. +[They exit, the Lieutenant one way, Lartius another.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Alarum, as in battle. +Enter Martius and Aufidius at several doors.] + + +MARTIUS +I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS We hate alike. +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARTIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS If I fly, Martius, +Hollo me like a hare. + +MARTIUS Within these three hours, +Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioles' walls +And made what work I pleased. 'Tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge, +Wrench up thy power to th' highest. + +AUFIDIUS Wert thou the +Hector +That was the whip of your bragged progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +[Here they fight, and certain Volsces come in +the aid of Aufidius.] +[(To the Volsces.)] Officious and not valiant, you have +shamed me +In your condemned seconds. +[Martius fights till they be driven in breathless. +Aufidius and Martius exit, separately.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, at one +door, Cominius with the Romans; at another door +Martius, with his arm in a scarf.] + + +COMINIUS, [to Martius] +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou 't not believe thy deeds. But I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' th' end admire; where ladies shall be frighted +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull +tribunes, +That with the fusty plebeians hate thine honors, +Shall say against their hearts "We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier." +Yet cam'st thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +[Enter Titus Lartius with his power, from the pursuit.] + + +LARTIUS O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison. +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARTIUS Pray now, no more. My mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done--that's what I can; +Induced as you have been--that's for my country. +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS You shall not be +The grave of your deserving. Rome must know +The value of her own. 'Twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings and to silence that +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouched, +Would seem but modest. Therefore, I beseech you-- +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARTIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remembered. + +COMINIUS Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses-- +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store--of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth +Before the common distribution +At your only choice. + +MARTIUS I thank you, general, +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword. I do refuse it +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. +[A long flourish. They all cry "Martius, Martius!" +and cast up their caps and lances. +Cominius and Lartius stand bare.] +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! When drums and trumpets shall +I' th' field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! When steel grows +Soft as the parasite's silk, let him be made +An ovator for th' wars! No more, I say. +For that I have not washed my nose that bled, +Or foiled some debile wretch--which, without note, +Here's many else have done--you shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical, +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS Too modest are you, +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly. By your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore be it known, +As to us to all the world, that Caius Martius +Wears this war's garland, in token of the which +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging. And from this time, +For what he did before Corioles, call him, +With all th' applause and clamor of the host, +Martius Caius Coriolanus! Bear +Th' addition nobly ever! + +[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums.] + + +ALL +Martius Caius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no. Howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To th' fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS So, to our tent, +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success.--You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioles back. Send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS Take 't, 'tis yours. What is 't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioles +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly. +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was within my view, +And wrath o'erwhelmed my pity. I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS O, well begged! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind.--Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Martius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS By Jupiter, forgot! +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS Go we to our tent. +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be looked to. Come. +[A flourish of cornets. They exit.] + +Scene 10 +======== +[Enter Tullus Aufidius bloody, with two or three Soldiers.] + + +AUFIDIUS The town is ta'en. + +SOLDIER +'Twill be delivered back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS Condition? +I would I were a Roman, for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition? +What good condition can a treaty find +I' th' part that is at mercy? Five times, Martius, +I have fought with thee; so often hast thou beat me +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By th' elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his. Mine emulation +Hath not that honor in 't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +SOLDIER He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valor's poisoned +With only suff'ring stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself. Nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in 's heart. Go you to th' city; +Learn how 'tis held and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +SOLDIER Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove. I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +SOLDIER I shall, sir. +[They exit, Aufidius through one door, +Soldiers through another.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Menenius with the two Tribunes of the people, +Sicinius and Brutus.] + + +MENENIUS The augurer tells me we shall have news +tonight. + +BRUTUS Good or bad? + +MENENIUS Not according to the prayer of the people, +for they love not Martius. + +SICINIUS Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS The lamb. + +MENENIUS Ay, to devour him, as the hungry plebeians +would the noble Martius. + +BRUTUS He's a lamb indeed, that baas like a bear. + +MENENIUS He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. +You two are old men; tell me one thing that I shall +ask you. + +BOTH Well, sir. + +MENENIUS In what enormity is Martius poor in, that +you two have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS This is strange now. Do you two know how +you are censured here in the city, I mean of us o' +th' right-hand file, do you? + +BOTH Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS Because you talk of pride now, will you not +be angry? + +BOTH Well, well, sir, well? + +MENENIUS Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little +thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience. +Give your dispositions the reins, and be +angry at your pleasures, at the least, if you take it +as a pleasure to you in being so. You blame Martius +for being proud. + +BRUTUS We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS I know you can do very little alone, for +your helps are many, or else your actions would +grow wondrous single. Your abilities are too infantlike +for doing much alone. You talk of pride. O, +that you could turn your eyes toward the napes +of your necks and make but an interior survey of +your good selves! O, that you could! + +BOTH What then, sir? + +MENENIUS Why, then you should discover a brace of +unmeriting, proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias +fools, as any in Rome. + +SICINIUS Menenius, you are known well enough, too. + +MENENIUS I am known to be a humorous patrician and +one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of +allaying Tiber in 't; said to be something imperfect +in favoring the first complaint, hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses +more with the buttock of the night than with the +forehead of the morning. What I think I utter, +and spend my malice in my breath. Meeting two +such wealsmen as you are--I cannot call you +Lycurguses--if the drink you give me touch my +palate adversely, I make a crooked face at it. I cannot +say your Worships have delivered the matter +well when I find the ass in compound with the +major part of your syllables. And though I must +be content to bear with those that say you are reverend +grave men, yet they lie deadly that tell you +have good faces. If you see this in the map of my +microcosm, follows it that I am known well enough +too? What harm can your bisson conspectuities +glean out of this character, if I be known well +enough, too? + +BRUTUS Come, sir, come; we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS You know neither me, yourselves, nor anything. +You are ambitious for poor knaves' caps +and legs. You wear out a good wholesome forenoon +in hearing a cause between an orange-wife +and a faucet-seller, and then rejourn the controversy +of threepence to a second day of audience. +When you are hearing a matter between party and +party, if you chance to be pinched with the colic, +you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody +flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a +chamber pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, +the more entangled by your hearing. All the peace +you make in their cause is calling both the parties +knaves. You are a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS Come, come. You are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS Our very priests must become mockers if +they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as +you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it +is not worth the wagging of your beards, and your +beards deserve not so honorable a grave as to +stuff a botcher's cushion or to be entombed in an +ass's packsaddle. Yet you must be saying Martius is +proud, who, in a cheap estimation, is worth all +your predecessors since Deucalion, though peradventure +some of the best of 'em were hereditary +hangmen. Good e'en to your Worships. More of +your conversation would infect my brain, being +the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians. I will be +bold to take my leave of you. +[He begins to exit. Brutus and Sicinius stand aside.] + +[Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Valeria.] + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies--and the +moon, were she earthly, no nobler--whither do +you follow your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA Honorable Menenius, my boy Martius approaches. +For the love of Juno, let's go! + +MENENIUS Ha? Martius coming home? + +VOLUMNIA Ay, worthy Menenius, and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee! [(He +throws his cap in the air.)] Hoo! Martius coming +home? + +VALERIA, VIRGILIA Nay, 'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA Look, here's a letter from him. [She produces +a paper.] The state hath another, his wife another, +and I think there's one at home for you. + +MENENIUS I will make my very house reel tonight. A +letter for me? + +VIRGILIA Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw 't. + +MENENIUS A letter for me? It gives me an estate of +seven years' health, in which time I will make a lip +at the physician. The most sovereign prescription +in Galen is but empiricutic and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse drench. Is he not +wounded? He was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA O no, no, no! + +VOLUMNIA O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for 't. + +MENENIUS So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings he +victory in his pocket, the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA On 's brows, Menenius. He comes the third +time home with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA Titus Lartius writes they fought together, +but Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him +that. An he had stayed by him, I would not have +been so 'fidiused for all the chests in Corioles and +the gold that's in them. Is the Senate possessed of +this? + +VOLUMNIA Good ladies, let's go.--Yes, yes, yes. The +Senate has letters from the General, wherein he +gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath +in this action outdone his former deeds doubly. + +VALERIA In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of +him. + +MENENIUS Wondrous? Ay, I warrant you, and not without +his true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA The gods grant them true. + +VOLUMNIA True? Pow waw! + +MENENIUS True? I'll be sworn they are true. Where is +he wounded? [(To the Tribunes.)] God save your +good Worships! Martius is coming home; he has +more cause to be proud.--Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA I' th' shoulder and i' th' left arm. There will +be large cicatrices to show the people when he +shall stand for his place. He received in the repulse +of Tarquin seven hurts i' th' body. + +MENENIUS One i' th' neck and two i' th' thigh--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS Now it's twenty-seven. Every gash was an +enemy's grave. [(A shout and flourish.)] Hark, the +trumpets! + +VOLUMNIA These are the ushers of Martius: before him +he carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears. +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie, +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. +[A sennet.] + +[Enter Cominius the General and Titus Lartius, between +them Coriolanus crowned with an oaken garland, with +Captains and Soldiers and a Herald. Trumpets sound.] + + +HERALD +Know, Rome, that all alone Martius did fight +Within Corioles' gates, where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Martius Caius; these +In honor follows "Coriolanus." +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus. +[Sound flourish.] + +ALL +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this. It does offend my heart. +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS Look, sir, your mother. + +CORIOLANUS O, +You have, I know, petitioned all the gods +For my prosperity. [Kneels.] + +VOLUMNIA Nay, my good soldier, up. +[He stands.] +My gentle Martius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honor newly named-- +What is it? Coriolanus must I call thee? +But, O, thy wife-- + +CORIOLANUS My gracious silence, hail. +Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined +home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioles wear +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS Now the gods crown +thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? [(To Valeria.)] O, my sweet lady, +pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn. O, welcome home!-- +And, welcome, general.--And you're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes! I could weep, +And I could laugh; I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on 's heart +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on; yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab trees here at home that will +not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors! +We call a nettle but a nettle, and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS Menenius ever, ever. + +HERALD +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS, [to Volumnia and Virgilia] Your hand +and yours. +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited, +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honors. + +VOLUMNIA I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy. Only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS On, to the Capitol. +[Flourish of cornets. They exit in state, as before.] + +[Brutus and Sicinius come forward.] + + + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him. The kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clamb'ring the walls to eye him. Stalls, bulks, +windows +Are smothered up, leads filled, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him. Seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station. Our veiled dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gauded cheeks to th' wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses. Such a pother, +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slyly crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS On the sudden +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temp'rately transport his honors +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS Doubt +not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honors--which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do 't. + +BRUTUS I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' th' marketplace nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility, +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To th' people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS 'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word. O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS 'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS So it must fall out +To him, or our authority's for an end. +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to 's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders, and +Dispropertied their freedoms; holding them +In human action and capacity +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in their war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want +If he be put upon 't, and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble, and their blaze +Shall darken him forever. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +BRUTUS What's the matter? + +MESSENGER +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Martius shall be consul. I have seen +The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind +To hear him speak; matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarves and handkerchiefs, +Upon him as he passed; the nobles bended +As to Jove's statue, and the Commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts. +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS Let's to the Capitol, +And carry with us ears and eyes for th' time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS Have with you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter two Officers, to lay cushions, as it were +in the Capitol.] + + +FIRST OFFICER Come, come. They are almost here. How +many stand for consulships? + +SECOND OFFICER Three, they say; but 'tis thought of +everyone Coriolanus will carry it. + +FIRST OFFICER That's a brave fellow, but he's vengeance +proud and loves not the common people. + +SECOND OFFICER 'Faith, there hath been many great +men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved +them; and there be many that they have loved they +know not wherefore; so that, if they love they +know not why, they hate upon no better a ground. +Therefore, for Coriolanus neither to care whether +they love or hate him manifests the true knowledge +he has in their disposition and, out of his noble +carelessness, lets them plainly see 't. + +FIRST OFFICER If he did not care whether he had their +love or no, he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them +neither good nor harm; but he seeks their hate with +greater devotion than they can render it him and +leaves nothing undone that may fully discover him +their opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice +and displeasure of the people is as bad as that +which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +SECOND OFFICER He hath deserved worthily of his +country, and his ascent is not by such easy degrees +as those who, having been supple and courteous to +the people, bonneted, without any further deed to +have them at all into their estimation and report; +but he hath so planted his honors in their eyes and +his actions in their hearts that for their tongues to +be silent and not confess so much were a kind of +ingrateful injury. To report otherwise were a malice +that, giving itself the lie, would pluck reproof +and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +FIRST OFFICER No more of him; he's a worthy man. +Make way. They are coming. + +[A sennet. Enter the Patricians and the Tribunes of the +people, Lictors before them; Coriolanus, Menenius, +Cominius the consul. The Patricians sit. Sicinius +and Brutus take their places by themselves. +Coriolanus stands.] + + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country. Therefore please +you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul and last general +In our well-found successes to report +A little of that worthy work performed +By Martius Caius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honors like himself. [Coriolanus sits.] + +FIRST SENATOR Speak, good Cominius. +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital, +Than we to stretch it out. [(To the Tribunes.)] +Masters o' th' people, +We do request your kindest ears and, after, +Your loving motion toward the common body +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty and have hearts +Inclinable to honor and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS Which the rather +We shall be blest to do if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS That's off, that's off! +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS Most willingly, +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS He loves your people, +But tie him not to be their bedfellow.-- +Worthy Cominius, speak. +[Coriolanus rises and offers to go away.] +Nay, keep your place. + +FIRST SENATOR +Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS Your Honors, pardon. +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS Sir, I hope +My words disbenched you not? + +CORIOLANUS No, sir. Yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not; but your +people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' th' sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monstered. [Coriolanus exits.] + +MENENIUS Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now +see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honor +Than one on 's ears to hear it.--Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice. The deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be uttered feebly. It is held +That valor is the chiefest virtue and +Most dignifies the haver; if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others. Our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him. He bestrid +An o'erpressed Roman and i' th' Consul's view +Slew three opposers. Tarquin's self he met +And struck him on his knee. In that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' th' field and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-entered thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurched all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioles, let me say, +I cannot speak him home. He stopped the flyers +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport. As weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obeyed +And fell below his stem. His sword, Death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries. Alone he entered +The mortal gate o' th' city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioles like a planet. Now all's his, +When by and by the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Requickened what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he, where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we called +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS Worthy man! + +FIRST SENATOR +He cannot but with measure fit the honors +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS Our spoils he kicked at +And looked upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world. He covets less +Than misery itself would give, rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS He's right noble. +Let him be called for. + +FIRST SENATOR Call Coriolanus. + +OFFICER He doth appear. + +[Enter Coriolanus.] + + +MENENIUS +The Senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked, and entreat them +For my wounds' sake to give their suffrage. Please +you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS, [to Coriolanus] Put them not to 't. +Pray you, go fit you to the custom, and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honor with your form. + +CORIOLANUS It is a part +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS, [to Sicinius] Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them "Thus I did, and thus!" +Show them th' unaching scars, which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS Do not stand upon 't.-- +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them, and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honor. + +SENATORS +To Coriolanus come all joy and honor! +[Flourish cornets. Then they exit. Sicinius and +Brutus remain.] + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive 's intent! He will require them +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here. On th' marketplace +I know they do attend us. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter seven or eight Citizens.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN Once, if he do require our voices, we +ought not to deny him. + +SECOND CITIZEN We may, sir, if we will. + +THIRD CITIZEN We have power in ourselves to do it, but +it is a power that we have no power to do; for, if +he show us his wounds and tell us his deeds, we +are to put our tongues into those wounds and +speak for them. So, if he tell us his noble deeds, we +must also tell him our noble acceptance of them. +Ingratitude is monstrous, and for the multitude to +be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude, +of the which, we being members, should +bring ourselves to be monstrous members. + +FIRST CITIZEN And to make us no better thought of, a +little help will serve; for once we stood up about +the corn, he himself stuck not to call us the many-headed +multitude. + +THIRD CITIZEN We have been called so of many; not that +our heads are some brown, some black, some +abram, some bald, but that our wits are so diversely +colored; and truly I think if all our wits were to +issue out of one skull, they would fly east, west, +north, south, and their consent of one direct way +should be at once to all the points o' th' compass. + +SECOND CITIZEN Think you so? Which way do you +judge my wit would fly? + +THIRD CITIZEN Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another +man's will; 'tis strongly wedged up in a blockhead. +But if it were at liberty, 'twould sure +southward. + +SECOND CITIZEN Why that way? + +THIRD CITIZEN To lose itself in a fog, where, being three +parts melted away with rotten dews, the fourth +would return for conscience' sake, to help to get +thee a wife. + +SECOND CITIZEN You are never without your tricks. You +may, you may. + +THIRD CITIZEN Are you all resolved to give your voices? +But that's no matter; the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +[Enter Coriolanus in a gown of humility, with Menenius.] + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility. Mark +his behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, +and by threes. He's to make his requests by particulars, +wherein every one of us has a single honor +in giving him our own voices with our own tongues. +Therefore follow me, and I'll direct you how you +shall go by him. + +ALL Content, content. [Citizens exit.] + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right. Have you not known +The worthiest men have done 't? + +CORIOLANUS What must I say? +"I pray, sir?"--plague upon 't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace. "Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service when +Some certain of your brethren roared and ran +From th' noise of our own drums." + +MENENIUS O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that. You must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS Think upon me? Hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS You'll mar all. +I'll leave you. Pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. [He exits.] + +CORIOLANUS Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +[Enter three of the Citizens.] + +So, here comes a brace.-- +You know the cause, sir, of my standing here. + +THIRD CITIZEN +We do, sir. Tell us what hath brought you to 't. + +CORIOLANUS Mine own desert. + +SECOND CITIZEN Your own desert? + +CORIOLANUS Ay, but not mine own desire. + +THIRD CITIZEN How, not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS No, sir, 'twas never my desire yet to trouble +the poor with begging. + +THIRD CITIZEN You must think if we give you anything, +we hope to gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS Well then, I pray, your price o' th' +consulship? + +FIRST CITIZEN The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS Kindly, sir, I pray, let me ha 't. I have +wounds to show you, which shall be yours in +private.--Your good voice, sir. What say you? + +SECOND CITIZEN You shall ha 't, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS A match, sir. There's in all two worthy +voices begged. I have your alms. Adieu. + +THIRD CITIZEN, [to the other Citizens] But this is something +odd. + +SECOND CITIZEN An 'twere to give again--but 'tis no +matter. [These citizens exit.] + +[Enter two other Citizens.] + + +CORIOLANUS Pray you now, if it may stand with the +tune of your voices that I may be consul, I have +here the customary gown. + +FOURTH CITIZEN You have deserved nobly of your +country, and you have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS Your enigma? + +FOURTH CITIZEN You have been a scourge to her enemies; +you have been a rod to her friends. You have +not indeed loved the common people. + +CORIOLANUS You should account me the more virtuous +that I have not been common in my love. I will, sir, +flatter my sworn brother, the people, to earn a +dearer estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle. And since the wisdom of their choice +is rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practice +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly. That is, sir, I will counterfeit the bewitchment +of some popular man and give it bountiful +to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, I may +be consul. + +FIFTH CITIZEN We hope to find you our friend, and +therefore give you our voices heartily. + +FOURTH CITIZEN You have received many wounds for +your country. + +CORIOLANUS I will not seal your knowledge with showing +them. I will make much of your voices and so +trouble you no farther. + +BOTH The gods give you joy, sir, heartily. +[Citizens exit.] + +CORIOLANUS Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here +To beg of Hob and Dick that does appear +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to 't. +What custom wills, in all things should we do 't? +The dust on antique time would lie unswept +And mountainous error be too highly heaped +For truth to o'erpeer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honor go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffered, the other will I do. + +[Enter three Citizens more.] + +Here come more voices.-- +Your voices! For your voices I have fought; +Watched for your voices; for your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd. Battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more. Your +voices! +Indeed, I would be consul. + +SIXTH CITIZEN He has done nobly, and cannot go +without any honest man's voice. + +SEVENTH CITIZEN Therefore let him be consul. The +gods give him joy, and make him good friend to +the people! + +ALL Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul. +[Citizens exit.] + +CORIOLANUS Worthy voices! + +[Enter Menenius, with Brutus and Sicinius.] + + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation, and the Tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice. Remains +That in th' official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the Senate. + +CORIOLANUS Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged. +The people do admit you, and are summoned +To meet anon upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? At the Senate House? + +SICINIUS There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do and, knowing myself again, +Repair to th' Senate House. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company.--Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS Fare you well. +[Coriolanus and Menenius exit.] +He has it now; and by his looks, methinks, +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS With a proud heart he wore +His humble weeds. Will you dismiss the people? + +[Enter the Plebeians.] + + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters, have you chose this man? + +FIRST CITIZEN He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +SECOND CITIZEN +Amen, sir. To my poor unworthy notice, +He mocked us when he begged our voices. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Certainly, he flouted us downright. + +FIRST CITIZEN +No, 'tis his kind of speech. He did not mock us. + +SECOND CITIZEN +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully. He should have showed us +His marks of merit, wounds received for 's country. + +SICINIUS Why, so he did, I am sure. + +ALL No, no. No man saw 'em. + +THIRD CITIZEN +He said he had wounds, which he could show in +private, +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +"I would be consul," says he. "Aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore." When we granted that, +Here was "I thank you for your voices. Thank you. +Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your +voices, +I have no further with you." Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see 't +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS Could you not have told him +As you were lessoned? When he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' th' body of the weal; and, now arriving +A place of potency and sway o' th' state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to th' plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves. You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices, and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touched his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him plucked +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had called you up, have held him to; +Or else it would have galled his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught. So putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en th' advantage of his choler +And passed him unelected. + +BRUTUS Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your +bodies +No heart among you? Or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you ere now denied the asker? And now +Again, of him that did not ask but mock, +Bestow your sued-for tongues? + +THIRD CITIZEN He's not confirmed. +We may deny him yet. + +SECOND CITIZEN And will deny him. +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +FIRST CITIZEN +I twice five hundred, and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties, make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefor kept to do so. + +SICINIUS Let them assemble +And, on a safer judgment, all revoke +Your ignorant election. Enforce his pride +And his old hate unto you. Besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorned you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +Th' apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes, that we labored, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS Say you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul. Lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you, +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' th' Martians, from whence came +That Ancus Martius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who after great Hostilius here was king, +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our best water brought by conduits hither; +And Censorinus, that was so surnamed, +And nobly named so, twice being censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS One thus descended, +That hath besides well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances; but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS Say you ne'er had done 't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on. +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to th' Capitol. + +ALL We will so. Almost all +Repent in their election. [Plebeians exit.] + +BRUTUS Let them go on. +This mutiny were better put in hazard +Than stay, past doubt, for greater. +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS To th' Capitol, come. +We will be there before the stream o' th' people, +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Cornets. Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, all the Gentry, +Cominius, Titus Lartius, and other Senators.] + + +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord, and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road +Upon 's again. + +COMINIUS They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safeguard he came to me, and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town. He is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS How? What? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most; that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be called your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +[Enter Sicinius and Brutus.] + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' th' common mouth. I do despise +them, +For they do prank them in authority +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS Ha? What is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on. No further. + +CORIOLANUS What makes this change? + +MENENIUS The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not passed the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS Have I had children's voices? + +FIRST SENATOR +Tribunes, give way. He shall to th' marketplace. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are your +offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their +teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility. +Suffer 't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS Call 't not a plot. +The people cry you mocked them; and, of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined, +Scandaled the suppliants for the people, called them +Timepleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you informed them sithence? + +BRUTUS How? I inform +them? + +COMINIUS You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS You show too much of that +For which the people stir. If you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your +way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused, set on. This palt'ring +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonored rub, laid falsely +I' th' plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS Tell me of corn? +This was my speech, and I will speak 't again. + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +FIRST SENATOR Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS Now, as I live, I will. +My nobler friends, I crave their pardons. For +The mutable, rank-scented meiny, let them +Regard me, as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves. I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plowed for, sowed, and +scattered +By mingling them with us, the honored number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS Well, no more. + +FIRST SENATOR +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS How? No more? +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles +Which we disdain should tetter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS You speak o' th' people +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS 'Twere well +We let the people know 't. + +MENENIUS What, what? His choler? + +CORIOLANUS Choler? +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind. + +SICINIUS It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS "Shall remain"? +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you +His absolute "shall"? + +COMINIUS 'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS "Shall"? +O good but most unwise patricians, why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory "shall," being but +The horn and noise o' th' monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch +And make your channel his? If he have power, +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learned, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators; and they are no less +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his "shall," +His popular "shall," against a graver bench +Than ever frowned in Greece. By Jove himself, +It makes the consuls base! And my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by th' other. + +COMINIUS Well, on to th' marketplace. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel to give forth +The corn o' th' storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece-- + +MENENIUS Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say they nourished disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS Why shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the +corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +They ne'er did service for 't. Being pressed to th' war, +Even when the navel of the state was touched, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of +service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' th' war, +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they showed +Most valor, spoke not for them. Th' accusation +Which they have often made against the Senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the native +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bosom multiplied digest +The Senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: "We did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands." Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears, which will in time +Break ope the locks o' th' Senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS No, take more! +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship-- +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, +wisdom +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance--it must omit +Real necessities and give way the while +To unstable slightness. Purpose so barred, it follows +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech +you-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on 't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it--at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonor +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become 't, +Not having the power to do the good it would +For th' ill which doth control 't. + +BRUTUS 'Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +'Has spoken like a traitor and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes, +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To th' greater bench? In a rebellion, +When what's not meet but what must be was law, +Then were they chosen. In a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' th' dust. + +BRUTUS Manifest treason. + +SICINIUS This a consul? No. + +BRUTUS The aediles, ho! Let him be apprehended. + +[Enter an Aedile.] + + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people; [Aedile exits.] in whose name +myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to th' public weal. Obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS Hence, old goat. + +ALL PATRICIANS +We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS, [to Sicinius] Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS, [to Sicinius] +Hence, rotten thing, or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS Help, you citizens! + +[Enter a rabble of Plebeians with the Aediles.] + + +MENENIUS On both sides more respect! + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS Seize him, aediles. + +ALL PLEBEIANS Down with him, down with him! + +SECOND SENATOR Weapons, weapons, weapons! +[They all bustle about Coriolanus.] +Tribunes, patricians, citizens, what ho! +Sicinius, Brutus, Coriolanus, citizens! + +ALL Peace, peace, peace! Stay, hold, peace! + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath. +Confusion's near. I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To th' people!--Coriolanus, patience!-- +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS Hear me, people! Peace! + +ALL PLEBEIANS +Let's hear our tribune. Peace! Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties. +Martius would have all from you, Martius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +FIRST SENATOR +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +ALL PLEBEIANS True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were established +The people's magistrates. + +ALL PLEBEIANS You so remain. + +MENENIUS And so are like to do. + +CORIOLANUS +That is the way to lay the city flat, +To bring the roof to the foundation +And bury all which yet distinctly ranges +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' th' people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Martius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS Therefore lay hold of him, +Bear him to th' rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS Aediles, seize him! + +ALL PLEBEIANS +Yield, Martius, yield! + +MENENIUS Hear me one word. +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEDILES Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +Be that you seem, truly your country's friend, +And temp'rately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent.--Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. +[Coriolanus draws his sword.] + +CORIOLANUS No, I'll die here. +There's some among you have beheld me fighting. +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword!--Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him! + +MENENIUS Help Martius, help! +You that be noble, help him, young and old! + +ALL PLEBEIANS Down with him, down with him! + +[In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the Aediles, and the People +are beat in.] + + +MENENIUS, [to Coriolanus] +Go, get you to your house. Begone, away. +All will be naught else. + +SECOND SENATOR Get you gone. + +CORIOLANUS Stand fast! +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Shall it be put to that? + +FIRST SENATOR The gods forbid!-- +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS For 'tis a sore upon us +You cannot tent yourself. Begone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians, as they are, +Though in Rome littered; not Romans, as they are +not, +Though calved i' th' porch o' th' Capitol. + +MENENIUS Begone! +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue. +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +MENENIUS I could myself +Take up a brace o' th' best of them, yea, the two +tribunes. + +COMINIUS +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic, +And manhood is called foolery when it stands +Against a falling fabric. [To Coriolanus.] Will you +hence, +Before the tag return, whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear? + +MENENIUS, [to Coriolanus] Pray you, begone. +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little. This must be patched +With cloth of any color. + +COMINIUS Nay, come away. +[Coriolanus and Cominius exit.] + +PATRICIAN This man has marred his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world. +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident +Or Jove for 's power to thunder. His heart's his +mouth; +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent, +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. [A noise within.] +Here's goodly work. + +PATRICIAN I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber. What the vengeance, +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +[Enter Brutus and Sicinius with the rabble again.] + + +SICINIUS Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS You worthy tribunes-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands. He hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at naught. + +FIRST CITIZEN He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths +And we their hands. + +ALL PLEBEIANS He shall, sure on 't. + +MENENIUS Sir, sir-- + +SICINIUS Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS Sir, how comes 't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS Hear me speak. +As I do know the Consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults. + +SICINIUS Consul? What consul? + +MENENIUS The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS He consul? + +ALL PLEBEIANS No, no, no, no, no! + +MENENIUS +If, by the Tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two, +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS Speak briefly then, +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor. To eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death. Therefore it is decreed +He dies tonight. + +MENENIUS Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enrolled +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own. + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease-- +Mortal to cut it off; to cure it easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which I dare vouch is more than that he hath +By many an ounce--he dropped it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country +Were to us all that do 't and suffer it +A brand to th' end o' th' world. + +SICINIUS This is clean cam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry. When he did love his country, +It honored him. + +SICINIUS The service of the foot, +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence, +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS One word more, one word! +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscanned swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to 's heels. Proceed by process, +Lest parties--as he is beloved--break out +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS If it were so-- + +SICINIUS What do you talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote! Ourselves resisted! Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' th' wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill schooled +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +FIRST SENATOR Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer.-- +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the marketplace. [To Menenius.] We'll +attend you there, +Where if you bring not Martius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS I'll bring him to you. +[To Senators.] Let me desire your company. He must +come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +FIRST SENATOR Pray you, let's to him. +[All exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Coriolanus with Nobles.] + + +CORIOLANUS +Let them pull all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +NOBLE You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woolen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still, and wonder +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +[Enter Volumnia.] + +I talk of you. +Why did you wish me milder? Would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA O sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are +With striving less to be so. Lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions if +You had not showed them how you were disposed +Ere they lacked power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS Let them hang! + +VOLUMNIA Ay, and burn too. + +[Enter Menenius with the Senators.] + + +MENENIUS, [to Coriolanus] +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough. +You must return and mend it. + +FIRST SENATOR There's no remedy, +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst and perish. + +VOLUMNIA Pray be counseled. +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS Well said, noble woman. +Before he should thus stoop to th' herd--but that +The violent fit o' th' time craves it as physic +For the whole state--I would put mine armor on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to th' Tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS Well, what then? What then? + +MENENIUS Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them? I cannot do it to the gods. +Must I then do 't to them? + +VOLUMNIA You are too absolute, +Though therein you can never be too noble +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say +Honor and policy, like unsevered friends, +I' th' war do grow together. Grant that, and tell me +In peace what each of them by th' other lose +That they combine not there? + +CORIOLANUS Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS A good +demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honor in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which for your best ends +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honor as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To th' people, not by your own instruction, +Nor by th' matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but roted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonors you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honor. I am in this +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS Noble lady!-- +Come, go with us; speak fair. You may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA I prithee now, my son, +Go to them with this bonnet in thy hand, +And thus far having stretched it--here be with +them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th' ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often thus correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling. Or say to them +Thou art their soldier and, being bred in broils, +Hast not the soft way, which thou dost confess +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves; but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS This but done +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being asked, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled; although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. + +[Enter Cominius.] + +Here is Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I have been i' th' marketplace; and, sir, 'tis fit +You make strong party or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence. All's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA He must, and will.-- +Prithee, now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? Must I +With my base tongue give to my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do 't. +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mold of Martius, they to dust should grind it +And throw 't against the wind. To th' marketplace! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to th' life. + +COMINIUS Come, come, we'll prompt +you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS Well, I must do 't. +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! My throat of war be turned, +Which choired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch or the virgin voice +That babies lull asleep! The smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! A beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my armed knees, +Who bowed but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms. I will not do 't, +Lest I surcease to honor mine own truth +And, by my body's action, teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA At thy choice, then. +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonor +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin. Let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list. +Thy valiantness was mine; thou suck'st it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS Pray be content. +Mother, I am going to the marketplace. +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home +beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going. +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul, +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' th' way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA Do your will. +[Volumnia exits.] + +COMINIUS +Away! The Tribunes do attend you. Arm yourself +To answer mildly, for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is "mildly." Pray you, let us go. +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honor. + +MENENIUS Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS Well, mildly be it, then. Mildly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sicinius and Brutus.] + + +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power. If he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +[Enter an Aedile.] + +What, will he come? + +AEDILE He's coming. + +BRUTUS How accompanied? + +AEDILE +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favored him. + +SICINIUS Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured, +Set down by th' poll? + +AEDILE I have. 'Tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEDILE I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they hear me say "It shall be so +I' th' right and strength o' th' commons," be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say "Fine," cry "Fine," if "Death," cry "Death," +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' th' truth o' th' cause. + +AEDILE I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEDILE Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS Go about it. +[Aedile exits.] +Put him to choler straight. He hath been used +Ever to conquer and to have his worth +Of contradiction. Being once chafed, he cannot +Be reined again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart, and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +[Enter Coriolanus, Menenius, and Cominius, with +others (Senators).] + + +SICINIUS Well, here he comes. + +MENENIUS, [aside to Coriolanus] Calmly, I do beseech +you. + +CORIOLANUS, [aside to Menenius] +Ay, as an hostler that for th' poorest piece +Will bear the knave by th' volume.--Th' honored +gods +Keep Rome in safety and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! Plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace +And not our streets with war! + +FIRST SENATOR Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS A noble wish. + +[Enter the Aedile with the Plebeians.] + + +SICINIUS Draw near, you people. + +AEDILE +List to your tribunes. Audience! Peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS First, hear me speak. + +BOTH TRIBUNES Well, say.--Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS I do demand +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers, and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you. + +CORIOLANUS I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content. +The warlike service he has done, consider. Think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' th' holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS Scratches with +briars, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier. Do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS What is the matter, +That, being passed for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonored that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS Say then. 'Tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you that you have contrived to take +From Rome all seasoned office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical, +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How? Traitor? + +MENENIUS Nay, temperately! Your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' th' lowest hell fold in the people! +Call me their traitor? Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hands clutched as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +"Thou liest" unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS Mark you this, people? + +ALL PLEBEIANS To th' rock, to th' rock with him! + +SICINIUS Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge. +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes, and here defying +Those whose great power must try him--even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves th' extremest death. + +BRUTUS But since he hath +Served well for Rome-- + +CORIOLANUS What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS I talk of that that know it. + +CORIOLANUS You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS Know, I pray you-- + +CORIOLANUS I'll know no further. +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, flaying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word, +Nor check my courage for what they can give, +To have 't with saying "Good morrow." + +SICINIUS For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That doth distribute it, in the name o' th' people +And in the power of us the Tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian, never more +To enter our Rome gates. I' th' people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +ALL PLEBEIANS +It shall be so, it shall be so! Let him away! +He's banished, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters and my common friends-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced. No more hearing. + +COMINIUS Let me speak. +I have been consul and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins. Then if I would +Speak that-- + +SICINIUS We know your drift. Speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banished +As enemy to the people and his country. +It shall be so. + +ALL PLEBEIANS It shall be so, it shall be so! + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate +As reek o' th' rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you! +And here remain with your uncertainty; +Let every feeble rumor shake your hearts; +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders, till at length +Your ignorance--which finds not till it feels, +Making but reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes--deliver you +As most abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising +For you the city, thus I turn my back. +There is a world elsewhere. +[Coriolanus, Cominius, with others (Senators) exit.] + +AEDILE +The people's enemy is gone, is gone. + +ALL PLEBEIANS +Our enemy is banished; he is gone. Hoo, hoo! +[They all shout and throw up their caps.] + +SICINIUS +Go see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite. +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +ALL PLEBEIANS +Come, come, let's see him out at gates! Come! +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Coriolanus, Volumnia, Virgilia, Menenius, +Cominius, with the young nobility of Rome.] + + +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears. A brief farewell. The beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? You were used +To say extremities was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm, all boats alike +Showed mastership in floating; fortune's blows +When most struck home, being gentle wounded +craves +A noble cunning. You were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conned them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS Nay, I prithee, +woman-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lacked. Nay, mother, +Resume that spirit when you were wont to say +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labors you'd have done and saved +Your husband so much sweat.--Cominius, +Droop not. Adieu.--Farewell, my wife, my mother. +I'll do well yet.--Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's +And venomous to thine eyes.--My sometime +general, +I have seen thee stern, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hard'ning spectacles. Tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes +As 'tis to laugh at 'em.--My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace, and-- +Believe 't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon that his fen +Makes feared and talked of more than seen, your +son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practice. + +VOLUMNIA My first son, +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile. Determine on some course +More than a wild exposure to each chance +That starts i' th' way before thee. + +VIRGILIA O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee; so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' th' absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS Fare you well. +Thou hast years upon thee, and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised. Bring me but out at gate.-- +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch. When I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'd with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS Give me thy hand. +Come. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the two Tribunes, Sicinius, and Brutus, +with the Aedile.] + + +SICINIUS +Bid them all home. He's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vexed, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS Bid them home. +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS Dismiss them home. +[Aedile exits.] +Here comes his mother. + +[Enter Volumnia, Virgilia, and Menenius.] + + +SICINIUS Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS Why? + +SICINIUS They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us. Keep on your way. + +VOLUMNIA +O, you're well met. The hoarded plague o' th' gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS Peace, peace! Be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA, [to the Tribunes] +If that I could for weeping, you should hear-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. [(To Sicinius.)] Will +you be gone? + +VIRGILIA, [to Brutus] +You shall stay too. I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS, [to Volumnia] Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool, is that a shame? Note but this, fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words, +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what--yet go. +Nay, but thou shalt stay too. I would my son +Were in Arabia and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS What then? + +VIRGILIA What then? +He'd make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +"I would he had"? 'Twas you incensed the rabble. +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have Earth to know. + +BRUTUS, [to Sicinius] Pray, let's go. + +VOLUMNIA Now, pray, sir, get you gone. +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this: +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see?-- +Whom you have banished, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? [Tribunes exit.] + +VOLUMNIA Take my prayers with +you. +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses. Could I meet 'em +But once a day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to 't. + +MENENIUS You have told them home, +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with +me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat. I sup upon myself +And so shall starve with feeding. +[(To Virgilia.)] Come, let's go. +Leave this faint puling, and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. [They exit.] + +MENENIUS Fie, fie, fie! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter a Roman (Nicanor) and a Volsce (Adrian).] + + +ROMAN I know you well, sir, and you know me. Your +name I think is Adrian. + +VOLSCE It is so, sir. Truly, I have forgot you. + +ROMAN I am a Roman, and my services are, as you are, +against 'em. Know you me yet? + +VOLSCE Nicanor, no? + +ROMAN The same, sir. + +VOLSCE You had more beard when I last saw you, but +your favor is well approved by your tongue. +What's the news in Rome? I have a note from the +Volscian state to find you out there. You have well +saved me a day's journey. + +ROMAN There hath been in Rome strange insurrections, +the people against the senators, patricians, +and nobles. + +VOLSCE Hath been? Is it ended, then? Our state thinks +not so. They are in a most warlike preparation and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their +division. + +ROMAN The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again; for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy Coriolanus +that they are in a ripe aptness to take all power +from the people and to pluck from them their tribunes +forever. This lies glowing, I can tell you, and +is almost mature for the violent breaking out. + +VOLSCE Coriolanus banished? + +ROMAN Banished, sir. + +VOLSCE You will be welcome with this intelligence, +Nicanor. + +ROMAN The day serves well for them now. I have heard +it said the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fall'n out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer Coriolanus being now in no request +of his country. + +VOLSCE He cannot choose. I am most fortunate thus +accidentally to encounter you. You have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +ROMAN I shall between this and supper tell you most +strange things from Rome, all tending to the good +of their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say +you? + +VOLSCE A most royal one. The centurions and their +charges, distinctly billeted, already in th' entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +ROMAN I am joyful to hear of their readiness and am +the man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of +your company. + +VOLSCE You take my part from me, sir. I have the most +cause to be glad of yours. + +ROMAN Well, let us go together. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Coriolanus in mean apparel, disguised, +and muffled.] + + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows. Many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop. Then, know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +[Enter a Citizen.] + +Save you, sir. + +CITIZEN +And you. + +CORIOLANUS Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies. Is he in Antium? + +CITIZEN +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS Which is his house, beseech +you? + +CITIZEN +This here before you. + +CORIOLANUS Thank you, sir. Farewell. +[Citizen exits.] +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seems to wear one heart, +Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity; so fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their +sleep +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birthplace hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter. If he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Music plays. Enter a Servingman.] + + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Wine, wine, wine! What service is +here? I think our fellows are asleep. [He exits.] + +[Enter another Servingman.] + + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Where's Cotus? My master calls +for him. Cotus! [He exits.] + +[Enter Coriolanus.] + + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house. The feast smells well, but I +Appear not like a guest. + +[Enter the First Servingman.] + + +FIRST SERVINGMAN What would you have, friend? +Whence are you? Here's no place for you. Pray, go +to the door. [He exits.] + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment +In being Coriolanus. + +[Enter Second Servingman.] + + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Whence are you, sir?--Has the +porter his eyes in his head, that he gives entrance +to such companions?--Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS Away! + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Away? Get you away. + +CORIOLANUS Now th' art troublesome. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Are you so brave? I'll have you +talked with anon. + +[Enter Third Servingman; the First, entering, +meets him.] + + +THIRD SERVINGMAN What fellow's this? + +FIRST SERVINGMAN A strange one as ever I looked on. I +cannot get him out o' th' house. Prithee, call my +master to him. [He steps aside.] + +THIRD SERVINGMAN What have you to do here, fellow? +Pray you, avoid the house. + +CORIOLANUS Let me but stand. I will not hurt your +hearth. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN What are you? + +CORIOLANUS A gentleman. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN A marv'llous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS True, so I am. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Pray you, poor gentleman, take up +some other station. Here's no place for you. Pray +you, avoid. Come. + +CORIOLANUS Follow your function, go, and batten on +cold bits. [Pushes him away from him.] + +THIRD SERVINGMAN What, you will not?--Prithee, tell +my master what a strange guest he has here. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN And I shall. +[Second Servingman exits.] + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Where dwell'st thou? + +CORIOLANUS Under the canopy. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Under the canopy? + +CORIOLANUS Ay. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS I' th' city of kites and crows. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN I' th' city of kites and crows? What +an ass it is! Then thou dwell'st with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS No, I serve not thy master. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN How, sir? Do you meddle with my +master? + +CORIOLANUS Ay, 'tis an honester service than to meddle +with thy mistress. Thou prat'st and prat'st. Serve +with thy trencher. Hence! [Beats him away.] +[Third Servingman exits.] + +[Enter Aufidius with the Second Servingman.] + + +AUFIDIUS Where is this fellow? + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Here, sir. I'd have beaten him like +a dog, but for disturbing the lords within. +[He steps aside.] + +AUFIDIUS Whence com'st thou? What wouldst thou? +Thy name? Why speak'st not? Speak, man. What's +thy name? + +CORIOLANUS, [removing his muffler] If, Tullus, +Not yet thou know'st me, and seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in 't. Though thy tackle's torn, +Thou show'st a noble vessel. What's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown. Know'st thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS I know thee not. Thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Martius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname Coriolanus. The painful service, +The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname, a good memory +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me. Only that name +remains. +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devoured the rest, +And suffered me by th' voice of slaves to be +Whooped out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth, not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life; for if +I had feared death, of all the men i' th' world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee +straight +And make my misery serve thy turn. So use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my cankered country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes +Thou 'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice, +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever followed thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS O Martius, Martius, +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my +heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things +And say 'tis true, I'd not believe them more +Than thee, all-noble Martius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, whereagainst +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarred the moon with splinters. +[They embrace.] +Here I clip +The anvil of my sword and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valor. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sighed truer breath. But that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars, I tell thee +We have a power on foot, and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn +Or lose mine arm for 't. Thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Martius, +Had we no other quarrel else to Rome but that +Thou art thence banished, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy and, pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'erbear 't. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by th' hands, +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +Th' one half of my commission and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness--thine own +ways, +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote +To fright them ere destroy. But come in. +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than ere an enemy-- +Yet, Martius, that was much. Your hand. Most +welcome! [Coriolanus and Aufidius exit.] + +[Two of the Servingmen come forward.] + + + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Here's a strange alteration! + +SECOND SERVINGMAN By my hand, I had thought to +have strucken him with a cudgel, and yet my mind +gave me his clothes made a false report of him. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN What an arm he has! He turned me +about with his finger and his thumb as one would +set up a top. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Nay, I knew by his face that there +was something in him. He had, sir, a kind of face, +methought--I cannot tell how to term it. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN He had so, looking as it were-- +Would I were hanged but I thought there was +more in him than I could think. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN So did I, I'll be sworn. He is simply +the rarest man i' th' world. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN I think he is. But a greater soldier +than he you wot one. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Who, my master? + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Nay, it's no matter for that. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Worth six on him. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Nay, not so neither. But I take him +to be the greater soldier. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Faith, look you, one cannot tell +how to say that. For the defense of a town our general +is excellent. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Ay, and for an assault too. + +[Enter the Third Servingman.] + + +THIRD SERVINGMAN O slaves, I can tell you news, news, +you rascals! + +BOTH What, what, what? Let's partake! + +THIRD SERVINGMAN I would not be a Roman, of all nations; +I had as lief be a condemned man. + +BOTH Wherefore? Wherefore? + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Why, here's he that was wont to +thwack our general, Caius Martius. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Why do you say "thwack our +general"? + +THIRD SERVINGMAN I do not say "thwack our general," +but he was always good enough for him. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Come, we are fellows and friends. +He was ever too hard for him; I have heard him +say so himself. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN He was too hard for him directly, to +say the truth on 't, before Corioles; he scotched +him and notched him like a carbonado. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN An he had been cannibally given, +he might have boiled and eaten him too. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN But, more of thy news. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Why, he is so made on here within +as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end +o' th' table; no question asked him by any of the +senators but they stand bald before him. Our general +himself makes a mistress of him, sanctifies +himself with 's hand, and turns up the white o' th' +eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, +our general is cut i' th' middle and but one half of +what he was yesterday, for the other has half, by +the entreaty and grant of the whole table. He'll go, +he says, and sowl the porter of Rome gates by th' +ears. He will mow all down before him and leave +his passage polled. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN And he's as like to do 't as any +man I can imagine. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Do 't? He will do 't! For, look you, +sir, he has as many friends as enemies, which +friends, sir, as it were, durst not, look you, sir, show +themselves, as we term it, his friends whilest he's +in directitude. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Directitude? What's that? + +THIRD SERVINGMAN But when they shall see, sir, his +crest up again, and the man in blood, they will out +of their burrows like coneys after rain, and revel +all with him. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN But when goes this forward? + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Tomorrow, today, presently. You +shall have the drum struck up this afternoon. 'Tis, +as it were, a parcel of their feast, and to be executed +ere they wipe their lips. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN Why then, we shall have a stirring +world again. This peace is nothing but to rust iron, +increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Let me have war, say I. It exceeds +peace as far as day does night. It's sprightly walking, +audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, +lethargy; mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter +of more bastard children than war's a destroyer of +men. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN 'Tis so, and as wars in some sort +may be said to be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied +but peace is a great maker of cuckolds. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Ay, and it makes men hate one +another. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Reason: because they then less +need one another. The wars for my money! I hope +to see Romans as cheap as Volscians. [(Noise +within.)] They are rising; they are rising. + +FIRST AND SECOND SERVINGMEN In, in, in, in! +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter the two Tribunes. Sicinius and Brutus.] + + +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him. +His remedies are tame--the present peace, +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by 't, behold +Dissentious numbers pest'ring streets than see +Our tradesmen singing in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to 't in good time. + +[Enter Menenius.] + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he, 'tis he. O, he is grown most kind +Of late.--Hail, sir. + +MENENIUS Hail to you both. + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus is not much missed +But with his friends. The commonwealth doth stand, +And so would do were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well, and might have been much better if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS Nay, I hear nothing; +His mother and his wife hear nothing from him. + +[Enter three or four Citizens.] + + +ALL CITIZENS, [to the Tribunes] +The gods preserve +you both! + +SICINIUS Good e'en, our neighbors. + +BRUTUS +Good e'en to you all, good e'en to you all. + +FIRST CITIZEN +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbors. We wished Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +ALL CITIZENS Now the gods keep you! + +BOTH TRIBUNES Farewell, farewell. [Citizens exit.] + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS Caius Martius was +A worthy officer i' th' war, but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious, past all thinking +Self-loving. + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, without assistance. + +MENENIUS I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +[Enter an Aedile.] + + +AEDILE Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports the Volsces with two several powers +Are entered in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS 'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Martius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world, +Which were inshelled when Martius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS Come, what talk you of Martius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumorer whipped. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS Cannot be? +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like hath been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS Tell not me. +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS Not possible. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the Senate House. Some news is coming +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS 'Tis this slave-- +Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes--his raising, +Nothing but his report. + +MESSENGER Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded, and more, +More fearful, is delivered. + +SICINIUS What more fearful? + +MESSENGER +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Martius, +Joined with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only that the weaker sort may wish +Good Martius home again. + +SICINIUS The very trick on 't. + +MENENIUS This is unlikely; +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violent'st contrariety. + +[Enter a Second Messenger.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER You are sent for to the Senate. +A fearful army, led by Caius Martius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories, and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire and took +What lay before them. + +[Enter Cominius.] + + +COMINIUS, [to the Tribunes] O, you have made good +work! + +MENENIUS What news? What news? + +COMINIUS, [to the Tribunes] +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonored to your noses-- + +MENENIUS What's the news? What's the news? + +COMINIUS, [to the Tribunes] +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS Pray now, your news?-- +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your +news? +If Martius should be joined with Volscians-- + +COMINIUS If? +He is their god; he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than Nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him +Against us brats with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS, [to the Tribunes] You have made good work, +You and your apron-men, you that stood so much +Upon the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic eaters! + +COMINIUS +He'll shake your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work. + +BRUTUS But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS Ay, and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt, and who resists +Are mocked for valiant ignorance +And perish constant fools. Who is 't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS Who shall ask it? +The Tribunes cannot do 't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds. For his best friends, if they +Should say "Be good to Rome," they charged him +even +As those should do that had deserved his hate +And therein showed like enemies. + +MENENIUS 'Tis true. +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say "Beseech you, cease."--You have made fair +hands, +You and your crafts! You have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS You have +brought +A trembling upon Rome such as was never +S' incapable of help. + +TRIBUNES Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How? Was 't we? We loved him, but like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' th' city. + +COMINIUS But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer. Desperation +Is all the policy, strength, and defense +That Rome can make against them. + +[Enter a troop of Citizens.] + + +MENENIUS Here come the +clusters.-- +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome when you cast +Your stinking, greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming, +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip. As many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter. +If he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +ALL CITIZENS Faith, we hear fearful news. + +FIRST CITIZEN For mine own part, +When I said banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +SECOND CITIZEN And so did I. + +THIRD CITIZEN And so did I. And, to say the truth, so +did very many of us. That we did we did for the +best; and though we willingly consented to his +banishment, yet it was against our will. + +COMINIUS You're goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, you and your cry!-- +Shall 's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS O, ay, what else? [Both exit.] + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home. Be not dismayed. +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +FIRST CITIZEN The gods be good to us! Come, masters, +let's home. I ever said we were i' th' wrong when +we banished him. + +SECOND CITIZEN So did we all. But, come, let's home. +[Citizens exit.] + +BRUTUS I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie. + +SICINIUS Pray, let's go. +[Tribunes exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Aufidius with his Lieutenant.] + + +AUFIDIUS Do they still fly to th' Roman? + +LIEUTENANT +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are dark'ned in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS I cannot help it now, +Unless by using means I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him. Yet his nature +In that's no changeling, and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +LIEUTENANT Yet I wish, sir-- +I mean for your particular--you had not +Joined in commission with him, but either +Have borne the action of yourself or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well, and be thou sure, +When he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him, although it seems, +And so he thinks and is no less apparent +To th' vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly, +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragonlike, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine +Whene'er we come to our account. + +LIEUTENANT +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yields to him ere he sits down, +And the nobility of Rome are his; +The Senators and Patricians love him too. +The Tribunes are no soldiers, and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First, he was +A noble servant to them, but he could not +Carry his honors even. Whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From th' casque to th' cushion, but commanding +peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controlled the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all--not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him feared, +So hated, and so banished. But he has a merit +To choke it in the utt'rance. So our virtues +Lie in th' interpretation of the time, +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +T' extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire, one nail one nail; +Rights by rights falter; strengths by strengths do +fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus (the two +Tribunes), with others.] + + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go. You hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general, who loved him +In a most dear particular. He called me father, +But what o' that? Go you that banished him; +A mile before his tent, fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy. Nay, if he coyed +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name. +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. "Coriolanus" +He would not answer to, forbade all names. +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' th' fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS, [to the Tribunes] +Why, so; you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have wracked Rome +To make coals cheap! A noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected. He replied +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punished. + +MENENIUS Very well. +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offered to awaken his regard +For 's private friends. His answer to me was +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff. He said 'twas folly +For one poor grain or two to leave unburnt +And still to nose th' offense. + +MENENIUS For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those! His mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains; +You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt +Above the moon. We must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient. If you refuse your aid +In this so-never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid 's with our distress. But sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Martius. + +MENENIUS Well, and say that +Martius +Return me, as Cominius is returned, unheard, +What then? But as a discontented friend, +Grief-shot with his unkindness? Say 't be so? + +SICINIUS Yet your good will +Must have that thanks from Rome after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS I'll undertake 't. +I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined. +The veins unfilled, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuffed +These pipes and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priestlike fasts. Therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. [He exits.] + +COMINIUS He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The jailor to his pity. I kneeled before him; +'Twas very faintly he said "Rise"; dismissed me +Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do +He sent in writing after me; what he +Would not, bound with an oath to yield to his +Conditions. So that all hope is vain +Unless his noble mother and his wife, +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore let's hence +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Menenius to the Watch, or Guard.] + + +FIRST WATCH Stay! Whence are you? + +SECOND WATCH Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well. But by your leave, +I am an officer of state and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +FIRST WATCH From whence? + +MENENIUS From Rome. + +FIRST WATCH +You may not pass; you must return. Our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +SECOND WATCH +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks +My name hath touched your ears. It is Menenius. + +FIRST WATCH +Be it so; go back. The virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS I tell thee, fellow, +Thy general is my lover. I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His fame unparalleled happily amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends-- +Of whom he's chief--with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer. Nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw, and in his praise +Have almost stamped the leasing. Therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +FIRST WATCH Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in +his behalf as you have uttered words in your own, +you should not pass here, no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your +general. + +SECOND WATCH Howsoever you have been his liar, as +you say you have, I am one that, telling true under +him, must say you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS Has he dined, can'st thou tell? For I would +not speak with him till after dinner. + +FIRST WATCH You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS I am, as thy general is. + +FIRST WATCH Then you should hate Rome as he does. +Can you, when you have pushed out your gates the +very defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or +with the palsied intercession of such a decayed +dotant as you seem to be? Can you think to blow +out the intended fire your city is ready to flame in +with such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived. +Therefore, back to Rome and prepare for +your execution. You are condemned. Our general +has sworn you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he +would use me with estimation. + +FIRST WATCH Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS I mean thy general. + +FIRST WATCH My general cares not for you. Back, I say, +go, lest I let forth your half pint of blood. Back! +That's the utmost of your having. Back! + +MENENIUS Nay, but fellow, fellow-- + +[Enter Coriolanus with Aufidius.] + + +CORIOLANUS What's the matter? + +MENENIUS [to First Watch] Now, you companion, I'll +say an errand for you. You shall know now that I +am in estimation; you shall perceive that a Jack +guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. +Guess but by my entertainment with him +if thou stand'st not i' th' state of hanging or of some +death more long in spectatorship and crueler in +suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for +what's to come upon thee. [(To Coriolanus.)] The +glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular +prosperity and love thee no worse than thy old +father Menenius does! O my son, my son! [(He +weeps.)] Thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, +here's water to quench it. I was hardly moved to +come to thee; but being assured none but myself +could move thee, I have been blown out of your +gates with sighs, and conjure thee to pardon Rome +and thy petitionary countrymen. The good gods +assuage thy wrath and turn the dregs of it upon +this varlet here, this, who, like a block, hath denied +my access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS Away! + +MENENIUS How? Away? + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others. Though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, begone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake, +[He gives Menenius a paper.] +And would have sent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak.--This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome; yet thou behold'st. + +AUFIDIUS You keep a constant temper. [They exit.] +[The Guard and Menenius remain.] + +FIRST WATCH Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +SECOND WATCH 'Tis a spell, you see, of much power. You +know the way home again. + +FIRST WATCH Do you hear how we are shent for keeping +your Greatness back? + +SECOND WATCH What cause do you think I have to +swoon? + +MENENIUS I neither care for th' world nor your general. +For such things as you, I can scarce think +there's any, you're so slight. He that hath a will to +die by himself fears it not from another. Let your +general do his worst. For you, be that you are, +long; and your misery increase with your age! I say +to you, as I was said to, away! [He exits.] + +FIRST WATCH A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +SECOND WATCH The worthy fellow is our general. He's +the rock, the oak not to be wind-shaken. +[Watch exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Coriolanus and Aufidius.] + + +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to th' Volscian lords how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS Only their ends +You have respected, stopped your ears against +The general suit of Rome, never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS This last old man, +Whom with a cracked heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father, +Nay, godded me indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him, for whose old love I have-- +Though I showed sourly to him--once more offered +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept, to grace him only +That thought he could do more. A very little +I have yielded to. Fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. [Shout within.] +Ha? What shout is this? +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +[Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, young Martius, +with Attendants.] + +My wife comes foremost, then the honored mold +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. [Virgilia curtsies.] +What is that curtsy worth? Or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt and am not +Of stronger earth than others. [Volumnia bows.] +My mother bows, +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod; and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession which +Great Nature cries "Deny not!" Let the Volsces +Plow Rome and harrow Italy, I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand +As if a man were author of himself, +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA My lord and husband. + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny, but do not say +For that "Forgive our Romans." [They kiss.] +O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip +Hath virgined it e'er since. You gods! I prate +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted. Sink, my knee, i' th' earth; [Kneels.] +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA O, stand up blest, +[He rises.] +Whilst with no softer cushion than the flint +I kneel before thee and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. [She kneels.] + +CORIOLANUS What's this? +Your knees to me? To your corrected son? +[He raises her up.] +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars! Then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun, +Murdering impossibility to make +What cannot be slight work. + +VOLUMNIA Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple!--Dear Valeria. + +VOLUMNIA, [presenting young Martius] +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by th' interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS, [to young Martius] The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness, that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' th' wars +Like a great seamark standing every flaw +And saving those that eye thee. + +VOLUMNIA, [to young Martius] Your knee, sirrah. +[He kneels.] + +CORIOLANUS That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself +Are suitors to you. [Young Martius rises.] + +CORIOLANUS I beseech you, peace; +Or if you'd ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics. Tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural; desire not +T' allay my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us anything; +For we have nothing else to ask but that +Which you deny already. Yet we will ask, +That if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness. Therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark, for we'll +Hear naught from Rome in private. [He sits.] Your +request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which +should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with +comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and +sorrow, +Making the mother, wife, and child to see +The son, the husband, and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital. Thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy. For how can we-- +Alas, how can we--for our country pray, +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? Alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win, for either thou +Must as a foreign recreant be led +With manacles through our streets, or else +Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine. If I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to 't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy to keep your name +Living to time. + +YOUNG MARTIUS He shall not tread on me. +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.-- +I have sat too long. [He rises.] + +VOLUMNIA Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so, that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn +us +As poisonous of your honor. No, our suit +Is that you reconcile them, while the Volsces +May say "This mercy we have showed," the Romans +"This we received," and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry "Be blest +For making up this peace!" Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name +Whose repetition will be dogged with curses, +Whose chronicle thus writ: "The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out, +Destroyed his country, and his name remains +To th' ensuing age abhorred." Speak to me, son. +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor +To imitate the graces of the gods, +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air +And yet to charge thy sulfur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honorable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs?--Daughter, speak you. +He cares not for your weeping.--Speak thou, boy. +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons.--There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother, yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' th' stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Showed thy dear mother any courtesy +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has clucked thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honor. Say my request's unjust +And spurn me back; but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs.--He turns away.-- +Down, ladies! Let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down! An end. +[They kneel.] +This is the last. So, we will home to Rome +And die among our neighbors.--Nay, behold 's. +This boy that cannot tell what he would have, +But kneels and holds up hands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't.--Come, let us go. +[They rise.] +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother, +His wife is in Corioles, and his child +Like him by chance.--Yet give us our dispatch. +I am hushed until our city be afire, +And then I'll speak a little. +[He holds her by the hand, silent.] + +CORIOLANUS O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O, my mother, mother, O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome, +But, for your son--believe it, O, believe it!-- +Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, +If not most mortal to him. But let it come.-- +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? Or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS I dare be sworn you were. +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make advise me. For my part, +I'll not to Rome. I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause.--O mother!--Wife! +[He speaks with them aside.] + +AUFIDIUS, [aside] +I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honor +At difference in thee. Out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +CORIOLANUS, [to the Women] Ay, by and by; +But we will drink together, and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have countersealed. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you. All the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Menenius and Sicinius.] + + +MENENIUS See you yond coign o' th' Capitol, yond +cornerstone? + +SICINIUS Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS If it be possible for you to displace it with +your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with +him. But I say there is no hope in 't. Our throats +are sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS Is 't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man? + +MENENIUS There is differency between a grub and a +butterfly, yet your butterfly was a grub. This Martius +is grown from man to dragon. He has wings; +he's more than a creeping thing. + +SICINIUS He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS So did he me; and he no more remembers +his mother now than an eight-year-old horse. The +tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. When he +walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground +shrinks before his treading. He is able to pierce a +corslet with his eye, talks like a knell, and his hum +is a battery. He sits in his state as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS I paint him in the character. Mark what +mercy his mother shall bring from him. There is +no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male +tiger. That shall our poor city find, and all this is +long of you. + +SICINIUS The gods be good unto us. + +MENENIUS No, in such a case the gods will not be good +unto us. When we banished him, we respected not +them; and he returning to break our necks, they +respect not us. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER, [to Sicinius] +Sir, if you'd save your life, fly to your house. +The plebeians have got your fellow tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +SICINIUS What's the news? + +SECOND MESSENGER +Good news, good news! The ladies have prevailed. +The Volscians are dislodged and Martius gone. +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? Is 't most certain? + +SECOND MESSENGER +As certain as I know the sun is fire. +Where have you lurked that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide +As the recomforted through th' gates. Why, hark you! + +[Trumpets, hautboys, drums beat, all together.] + + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes, +Tabors and cymbals, and the shouting Romans +Make the sun dance. Hark you! [A shout within.] + +MENENIUS This is good news. +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians +A city full; of tribunes such as you +A sea and land full. You have prayed well today. +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! +[Sound still with the shouts.] + +SICINIUS, [to Second Messenger] First, the gods bless +you for your tidings; next, accept my thankfulness. + +SECOND MESSENGER +Sir, we have all great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS They are near the city? + +SECOND MESSENGER Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS We'll meet them, and help the joy. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter two Senators, with Ladies (Volumnia, Virgilia, +Valeria) passing over the stage, with other Lords.] + + +SENATOR +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires. Strew flowers before +them, +Unshout the noise that banished Martius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother. +Cry "Welcome, ladies, welcome!" + +ALL Welcome, ladies, welcome! +[A flourish with drums and trumpets.] +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Tullus Aufidius, with Attendants.] + + +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' th' city I am here. +Deliver them this paper. [(He gives them a paper.)] +Having read it, +Bid them repair to th' marketplace, where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath entered and +Intends t' appear before the people, hoping +To purge himself with words. Dispatch. +[The Attendants exit.] + +[Enter three or four Conspirators of Aufidius's faction.] + +Most welcome! + +FIRST CONSPIRATOR +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoisoned +And with his charity slain. + +SECOND CONSPIRATOR Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wished us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS Sir, I cannot tell. +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +THIRD CONSPIRATOR +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference, but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS I know it, +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawned +Mine honor for his truth, who, being so heightened, +He watered his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and to this end, +He bowed his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable, and free. + +THIRD CONSPIRATOR Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping-- + +AUFIDIUS That I would have spoke of. +Being banished for 't, he came unto my hearth, +Presented to my knife his throat. I took him, +Made him joint servant with me, gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong; till at the last +I seemed his follower, not partner; and +He waged me with his countenance as if +I had been mercenary. + +FIRST CONSPIRATOR So he did, my lord. +The army marvelled at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we looked +For no less spoil than glory-- + +AUFIDIUS There was it +For which my sinews shall be stretched upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labor +Of our great action. Therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But hark! + +[Drums and trumpets sounds, with great shouts +of the people.] + + + +FIRST CONSPIRATOR +Your native town you entered like a post +And had no welcomes home, but he returns +Splitting the air with noise. + +SECOND CONSPIRATOR And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +THIRD CONSPIRATOR Therefore at your vantage, +Ere he express himself or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS Say no more. + +[Enter the Lords of the city.] + +Here come the lords. + +ALL LORDS +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +ALL LORDS We have. + +FIRST LORD And grieve to hear 't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines, but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding--this admits no excuse. + +[Enter Coriolanus marching with Drum and Colors, the +Commoners being with him.] + + +AUFIDIUS He approaches. You shall hear him. + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am returned your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted, and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought +home +Doth more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honor to the Antiates +Than shame to th' Romans, and we here deliver, +Subscribed by' th' Consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' th' Senate, what +We have compounded on. +[He offers the lords a paper.] + +AUFIDIUS Read it not, noble lords, +But tell the traitor in the highest degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS "Traitor"? How now? + +AUFIDIUS Ay, traitor, Martius. + +CORIOLANUS Martius? + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Martius, Caius Martius. Dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus, in Corioles? +You lords and heads o' th' state, perfidiously +He has betrayed your business and given up +For certain drops of salt your city Rome-- +I say your city--to his wife and mother, +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' th' war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roared away your victory, +That pages blushed at him and men of heart +Looked wond'ring each at other. + +CORIOLANUS Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS Name not the god, thou boy of tears. + +CORIOLANUS Ha? + +AUFIDIUS No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. "Boy"? O slave!-- +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave +lords, +Must give this cur the lie; and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impressed upon him, that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +FIRST LORD Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces. Men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. "Boy"? False hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there +That like an eagle in a dovecote, I +Fluttered your Volscians in Corioles, +Alone I did it. "Boy"! + +AUFIDIUS Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +ALL CONSPIRATORS Let him die for 't. + +ALL PEOPLE Tear him to pieces! Do it presently! He +killed my son! My daughter! He killed my cousin +Marcus! He killed my father! + +SECOND LORD Peace, ho! No outrage! Peace! +The man is noble, and his fame folds in +This orb o' th' Earth. His last offenses to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS, [drawing his sword] O, that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword. + +AUFIDIUS Insolent villain! + +ALL CONSPIRATORS Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +[Draw the Conspirators, and kills Martius, who falls. +Aufidius stands on him.] + + + +LORDS Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +FIRST LORD O Tullus! + +SECOND LORD +Thou hast done a deed whereat valor will weep. + +THIRD LORD +Tread not upon him.--Masters, all be quiet.-- +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honors +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +FIRST LORD Bear from hence his body, +And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +SECOND LORD His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS My rage is gone, +And I am struck with sorrow.--Take him up. +Help, three o' th' chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.-- +Beat thou the drum that it speak mournfully.-- +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widowed and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. +Assist. +[They exit bearing the body of Martius. +A dead march sounded.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/cymbeline_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/cymbeline_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7adc983 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/cymbeline_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5380 @@ +Cymbeline +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/cymbeline/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +CYMBELINE, King of Britain +Cymbeline's QUEEN +IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by his former queen +POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, husband to Imogen +CLOTEN, son to the present queen by a former husband +PISANIO, Posthumus's servant +CORNELIUS, a physician in Cymbeline's court +PHILARIO, Posthumus's host in Rome +IACHIMO, friend to Philario +A FRENCHMAN, friend to Philario +CAIUS LUCIUS, a Roman general +BELARIUS, an exiled nobleman +Sons to Cymbeline by his former queen: + GUIDERIUS + ARVIRAGUS +Two LORDS attending Cloten +Two GENTLEMEN of Cymbeline's court +A LADY, Imogen's attendant +A LADY, the Queen's attendant +A Briton LORD +Two Briton CAPTAINS +Two JAILERS +Two MESSENGERS +Two Roman SENATORS +TRIBUNES +Roman CAPTAINS +A SOOTHSAYER +JUPITER +The Ghost of SICILIUS LEONATUS, Posthumus's father +The Ghost of Posthumus's MOTHER +The Ghosts of Posthumus's two BROTHERS +Lords, Ladies, Attendants, Musicians, a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Senators, Tribunes, Captains, and Soldiers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter two Gentlemen.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +You do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloods +No more obey the heavens than our courtiers' +Still seem as does the King's. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN But what's the matter? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +His daughter, and the heir of 's kingdom, whom +He purposed to his wife's sole son--a widow +That late he married--hath referred herself +Unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's wedded, +Her husband banished, she imprisoned. All +Is outward sorrow, though I think the King +Be touched at very heart. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN None but the King? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +He that hath lost her, too. So is the Queen, +That most desired the match. But not a courtier, +Although they wear their faces to the bent +Of the King's looks, hath a heart that is not +Glad at the thing they scowl at. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN And why so? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +He that hath missed the Princess is a thing +Too bad for bad report, and he that hath her-- +I mean, that married her, alack, good man! +And therefore banished--is a creature such +As, to seek through the regions of the Earth +For one his like, there would be something failing +In him that should compare. I do not think +So fair an outward and such stuff within +Endows a man but he. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN You speak him far. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +I do extend him, sir, within himself, +Crush him together rather than unfold +His measure duly. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN What's his name and birth? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +I cannot delve him to the root. His father +Was called Sicilius, who did join his honor +Against the Romans with Cassibelan, +But had his titles by Tenantius, whom +He served with glory and admired success, +So gained the sur-addition Leonatus; +And had, besides this gentleman in question, +Two other sons, who in the wars o' th' time +Died with their swords in hand. For which their +father, +Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow +That he quit being; and his gentle lady, +Big of this gentleman our theme, deceased +As he was born. The King he takes the babe +To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus, +Breeds him and makes him of his bedchamber, +Puts to him all the learnings that his time +Could make him the receiver of, which he took +As we do air, fast as 'twas ministered, +And in 's spring became a harvest; lived in court-- +Which rare it is to do--most praised, most loved, +A sample to the youngest, to th' more mature +A glass that feated them, and to the graver +A child that guided dotards. To his mistress, +For whom he now is banished, her own price +Proclaims how she esteemed him; and his virtue +By her election may be truly read +What kind of man he is. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I honor him +Even out of your report. But pray you tell me, +Is she sole child to th' King? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN His only child. +He had two sons--if this be worth your hearing, +Mark it--the eldest of them at three years old, +I' th' swathing clothes the other, from their nursery +Were stol'n, and to this hour no guess in knowledge +Which way they went. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN How long is this ago? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Some twenty years. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +That a king's children should be so conveyed, +So slackly guarded, and the search so slow +That could not trace them! + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Howsoe'er 'tis strange, +Or that the negligence may well be laughed at, +Yet is it true, sir. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I do well believe you. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman, +The Queen and Princess. +[They exit.] + +[Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen.] + + +QUEEN +No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter, +After the slander of most stepmothers, +Evil-eyed unto you. You're my prisoner, but +Your jailer shall deliver you the keys +That lock up your restraint.--For you, Posthumus, +So soon as I can win th' offended king, +I will be known your advocate. Marry, yet +The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good +You leaned unto his sentence with what patience +Your wisdom may inform you. + +POSTHUMUS Please your Highness, +I will from hence today. + +QUEEN You know the peril. +I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying +The pangs of barred affections, though the King +Hath charged you should not speak together. [She exits.] + +IMOGEN O, +Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant +Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband, +I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing-- +Always reserved my holy duty--what +His rage can do on me. You must be gone, +And I shall here abide the hourly shot +Of angry eyes, not comforted to live +But that there is this jewel in the world +That I may see again. [She weeps.] + +POSTHUMUS My queen, my mistress! +O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause +To be suspected of more tenderness +Than doth become a man. I will remain +The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth. +My residence in Rome at one Philario's, +Who to my father was a friend, to me +Known but by letter; thither write, my queen, +And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, +Though ink be made of gall. + +[Enter Queen.] + + +QUEEN Be brief, I pray you. +If the King come, I shall incur I know not +How much of his displeasure. [(Aside.)] Yet I'll move +him +To walk this way. I never do him wrong +But he does buy my injuries, to be friends, +Pays dear for my offenses. [She exits.] + +POSTHUMUS Should we be taking leave +As long a term as yet we have to live, +The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu. + +IMOGEN Nay, stay a little! +Were you but riding forth to air yourself, +Such parting were too petty. Look here, love: +This diamond was my mother's. [(She offers a +ring.)] Take it, heart, +But keep it till you woo another wife +When Imogen is dead. + +POSTHUMUS How, how? Another? +You gentle gods, give me but this I have, +And cere up my embracements from a next +With bonds of death. [(He puts the ring on his finger.)] +Remain, remain thou here, +While sense can keep it on.--And sweetest, fairest, +As I my poor self did exchange for you +To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles +I still win of you. For my sake, wear this. +[He offers a bracelet.] +It is a manacle of love. I'll place it +Upon this fairest prisoner. [He puts it on her wrist.] + +IMOGEN O the gods! +When shall we see again? + +[Enter Cymbeline and Lords.] + + +POSTHUMUS Alack, the King. + +CYMBELINE +Thou basest thing, avoid hence, from my sight! +If after this command thou fraught the court +With thy unworthiness, thou diest. Away! +Thou 'rt poison to my blood. + +POSTHUMUS The gods protect you, +And bless the good remainders of the court. +I am gone. [He exits.] + +IMOGEN There cannot be a pinch in death +More sharp than this is. + +CYMBELINE O disloyal thing +That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st +A year's age on me. + +IMOGEN I beseech you, sir, +Harm not yourself with your vexation. +I am senseless of your wrath. A touch more rare +Subdues all pangs, all fears. + +CYMBELINE Past grace? Obedience? + +IMOGEN +Past hope and in despair; that way past grace. + +CYMBELINE +That mightst have had the sole son of my queen! + +IMOGEN +O, blessed that I might not! I chose an eagle +And did avoid a puttock. + +CYMBELINE +Thou took'st a beggar, wouldst have made my throne +A seat for baseness. + +IMOGEN No, I rather added +A luster to it. + +CYMBELINE O thou vile one! + +IMOGEN Sir, +It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus. +You bred him as my playfellow, and he is +A man worth any woman, overbuys me +Almost the sum he pays. + +CYMBELINE What, art thou mad? + +IMOGEN +Almost, sir. Heaven restore me! Would I were +A neatherd's daughter, and my Leonatus +Our neighbor shepherd's son. [She weeps.] + +CYMBELINE Thou foolish thing! + +[Enter Queen.] + +They were again together. You have done +Not after our command. Away with her +And pen her up. + +QUEEN Beseech your patience.--Peace, +Dear lady daughter, peace.--Sweet sovereign, +Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some +comfort +Out of your best advice. + +CYMBELINE Nay, let her languish +A drop of blood a day, and being aged +Die of this folly. [He exits, with Lords.] + +QUEEN Fie, you must give way. + +[Enter Pisanio.] + +Here is your servant.--How now, sir? What news? + +PISANIO +My lord your son drew on my master. + +QUEEN Ha? +No harm, I trust, is done? + +PISANIO There might have been, +But that my master rather played than fought +And had no help of anger. They were parted +By gentlemen at hand. + +QUEEN I am very glad on 't. + +IMOGEN +Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part +To draw upon an exile. O, brave sir! +I would they were in Afric both together, +Myself by with a needle, that I might prick +The goer-back.--Why came you from your master? + +PISANIO +On his command. He would not suffer me +To bring him to the haven, left these notes +Of what commands I should be subject to +When 't pleased you to employ me. + +QUEEN, [to Imogen] This hath been +Your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honor +He will remain so. + +PISANIO I humbly thank your Highness. + +QUEEN, [to Imogen] +Pray, walk awhile. + +IMOGEN, [to Pisanio] About some half hour hence, +Pray you, speak with me. You shall at least +Go see my lord aboard. For this time leave me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Cloten and two Lords.] + + +FIRST LORD Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt. The +violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. +Where air comes out, air comes in. There's +none abroad so wholesome as that you vent. + +CLOTEN If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I +hurt him? + +SECOND LORD, [aside] No, faith, not so much as his +patience. + +FIRST LORD Hurt him? His body's a passable carcass if +he be not hurt. It is a thoroughfare for steel if it be +not hurt. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] His steel was in debt; it went o' +th' backside the town. + +CLOTEN The villain would not stand me. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] No, but he fled forward still, +toward your face. + +FIRST LORD Stand you? You have land enough of your +own, but he added to your having, gave you some +ground. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] As many inches as you have +oceans. Puppies! + +CLOTEN I would they had not come between us. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] So would I, till you had measured +how long a fool you were upon the ground. + +CLOTEN And that she should love this fellow and +refuse me! + +SECOND LORD, [aside] If it be a sin to make a true election, +she is damned. + +FIRST LORD Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and +her brain go not together. She's a good sign, but I +have seen small reflection of her wit. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] She shines not upon fools, lest +the reflection should hurt her. + +CLOTEN Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had +been some hurt done! + +SECOND LORD, [aside] I wish not so, unless it had been +the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. + +CLOTEN You'll go with us? + +FIRST LORD I'll attend your Lordship. + +CLOTEN Nay, come, let's go together. + +SECOND LORD Well, my lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Imogen and Pisanio.] + + +IMOGEN +I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' th' haven +And questionedst every sail. If he should write +And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost +As offered mercy is. What was the last +That he spake to thee? + +PISANIO It was his queen, his queen! + +IMOGEN +Then waved his handkerchief? + +PISANIO And kissed it, madam. + +IMOGEN +Senseless linen, happier therein than I. +And that was all? + +PISANIO No, madam. For so long +As he could make me with this eye or ear +Distinguish him from others, he did keep +The deck, with glove or hat or handkerchief +Still waving, as the fits and stirs of 's mind +Could best express how slow his soul sailed on, +How swift his ship. + +IMOGEN Thou shouldst have made him +As little as a crow, or less, ere left +To after-eye him. + +PISANIO Madam, so I did. + +IMOGEN +I would have broke mine eyestrings, cracked them, +but +To look upon him till the diminution +Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle; +Nay, followed him till he had melted from +The smallness of a gnat to air; and then +Have turned mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio, +When shall we hear from him? + +PISANIO Be assured, madam, +With his next vantage. + +IMOGEN +I did not take my leave of him, but had +Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him +How I would think on him at certain hours +Such thoughts and such; or I could make him swear +The shes of Italy should not betray +Mine interest and his honor; or have charged him +At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight +T' encounter me with orisons, for then +I am in heaven for him; or ere I could +Give him that parting kiss which I had set +Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father, +And like the tyrannous breathing of the north +Shakes all our buds from growing. + +[Enter a Lady.] + + +LADY The Queen, madam, +Desires your Highness' company. + +IMOGEN, [to Pisanio] +Those things I bid you do, get them dispatched. +I will attend the Queen. + +PISANIO Madam, I shall. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Philario, Iachimo, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, +and a Spaniard.] + + +IACHIMO Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. He +was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so +worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of. +But I could then have looked on him without the +help of admiration, though the catalogue of his +endowments had been tabled by his side and I to +peruse him by items. + +PHILARIO You speak of him when he was less furnished +than now he is with that which makes him +both without and within. + +FRENCHMAN I have seen him in France. We had very +many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes +as he. + +IACHIMO This matter of marrying his king's daughter, +wherein he must be weighed rather by her value +than his own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal +from the matter. + +FRENCHMAN And then his banishment. + +IACHIMO Ay, and the approbation of those that weep +this lamentable divorce under her colors are wonderfully +to extend him, be it but to fortify her judgment, +which else an easy battery might lay flat for +taking a beggar without less quality.--But how +comes it he is to sojourn with you? How creeps +acquaintance? + +PHILARIO His father and I were soldiers together, to +whom I have been often bound for no less than my +life. + +[Enter Posthumus.] + +Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained +amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, +to a stranger of his quality.--I beseech you all, +be better known to this gentleman, whom I commend +to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy +he is I will leave to appear hereafter rather +than story him in his own hearing. + +FRENCHMAN, [to Posthumus] Sir, we have known together +in Orleans. + +POSTHUMUS Since when I have been debtor to you for +courtesies which I will be ever to pay and yet pay +still. + +FRENCHMAN Sir, you o'errate my poor kindness. I was +glad I did atone my countryman and you. It had +been pity you should have been put together with +so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance +of so slight and trivial a nature. + +POSTHUMUS By your pardon, sir, I was then a young +traveler, rather shunned to go even with what I +heard than in my every action to be guided by others' +experiences. But upon my mended judgment-- +if I offend not to say it is mended--my +quarrel was not altogether slight. + +FRENCHMAN Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrament of +swords, and by such two that would by all likelihood +have confounded one the other or have fall'n +both. + +IACHIMO Can we with manners ask what was the +difference? + +FRENCHMAN Safely, I think. 'Twas a contention in public, +which may without contradiction suffer the report. +It was much like an argument that fell out +last night, where each of us fell in praise of our +country mistresses, this gentleman at that time +vouching--and upon warrant of bloody affirmation-- +his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, +constant, qualified, and less attemptable than any +the rarest of our ladies in France. + +IACHIMO That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's +opinion by this worn out. + +POSTHUMUS She holds her virtue still, and I my mind. + +IACHIMO You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of +Italy. + +POSTHUMUS Being so far provoked as I was in France, +I would abate her nothing, though I profess myself +her adorer, not her friend. + +IACHIMO As fair and as good--a kind of hand-in-hand +comparison--had been something too fair and too +good for any lady in Britain. If she went before +others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlusters +many I have beheld, I could not but +believe she excelled many. But I have not seen the +most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady. + +POSTHUMUS I praised her as I rated her. So do I my +stone. + +IACHIMO What do you esteem it at? + +POSTHUMUS More than the world enjoys. + +IACHIMO Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or +she's outprized by a trifle. + +POSTHUMUS You are mistaken. The one may be sold or +given, or if there were wealth enough for the purchase +or merit for the gift. The other is not a thing +for sale, and only the gift of the gods. + +IACHIMO Which the gods have given you? + +POSTHUMUS Which, by their graces, I will keep. + +IACHIMO You may wear her in title yours, but you +know strange fowl light upon neighboring ponds. +Your ring may be stolen too. So your brace of unprizable +estimations, the one is but frail and the +other casual. A cunning thief or a that-way-accomplished +courtier would hazard the winning both of +first and last. + +POSTHUMUS Your Italy contains none so accomplished +a courtier to convince the honor of my mistress, if +in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I +do nothing doubt you have store of thieves; +notwithstanding, I fear not my ring. + +PHILARIO Let us leave here, gentlemen. + +POSTHUMUS Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior, +I thank him, makes no stranger of me. We are +familiar at first. + +IACHIMO With five times so much conversation I +should get ground of your fair mistress, make her +go back even to the yielding, had I admittance and +opportunity to friend. + +POSTHUMUS No, no. + +IACHIMO I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my +estate to your ring, which in my opinion o'ervalues +it something. But I make my wager rather against +your confidence than her reputation, and, to bar +your offense herein too, I durst attempt it against +any lady in the world. + +POSTHUMUS You are a great deal abused in too bold a +persuasion, and I doubt not you sustain what +you're worthy of by your attempt. + +IACHIMO What's that? + +POSTHUMUS A repulse--though your attempt, as you +call it, deserve more: a punishment, too. + +PHILARIO Gentlemen, enough of this. It came in too +suddenly. Let it die as it was born, and, I pray you, +be better acquainted. + +IACHIMO Would I had put my estate and my neighbor's +on th' approbation of what I have spoke. + +POSTHUMUS What lady would you choose to assail? + +IACHIMO Yours, whom in constancy you think stands +so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your +ring that, commend me to the court where your +lady is, with no more advantage than the opportunity +of a second conference, and I will bring from +thence that honor of hers which you imagine so +reserved. + +POSTHUMUS I will wage against your gold, gold to it. +My ring I hold dear as my finger; 'tis part of it. + +IACHIMO You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you +buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot +preserve it from tainting. But I see you have some +religion in you, that you fear. + +POSTHUMUS This is but a custom in your tongue. You +bear a graver purpose, I hope. + +IACHIMO I am the master of my speeches and would +undergo what's spoken, I swear. + +POSTHUMUS Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till +your return. Let there be covenants drawn between +'s. My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness +of your unworthy thinking. I dare you to this +match. Here's my ring. + +PHILARIO I will have it no lay. + +IACHIMO By the gods, it is one!--If I bring you no sufficient +testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest +bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand +ducats are yours; so is your diamond too. If I come +off and leave her in such honor as you have trust +in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are +yours, provided I have your commendation for my +more free entertainment. + +POSTHUMUS I embrace these conditions. Let us have +articles betwixt us. Only thus far you shall answer: +if you make your voyage upon her and give me directly +to understand you have prevailed, I am no +further your enemy; she is not worth our debate. If +she remain unseduced, you not making it appear +otherwise, for your ill opinion and th' assault you +have made to her chastity, you shall answer me +with your sword. + +IACHIMO Your hand; a covenant. [(They shake hands.)] +We will have these things set down by lawful counsel, +and straight away for Britain, lest the bargain +should catch cold and starve. I will fetch my gold +and have our two wagers recorded. + +POSTHUMUS Agreed. [Iachimo and Posthumus exit.] + +FRENCHMAN Will this hold, think you? + +PHILARIO Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray, let us +follow 'em. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Queen, Ladies, and Cornelius.] + + +QUEEN +Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers. +Make haste. Who has the note of them? + +LADY I, madam. + +QUEEN Dispatch. [Ladies exit.] +Now, Master Doctor, have you brought those drugs? + +CORNELIUS +Pleaseth your Highness, ay. Here they are, madam. +[He hands her a small box.] +But I beseech your Grace, without offense-- +My conscience bids me ask--wherefore you have +Commanded of me these most poisonous +compounds, +Which are the movers of a languishing death, +But though slow, deadly. + +QUEEN I wonder, doctor, +Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been +Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learned me how +To make perfumes, distil, preserve--yea, so +That our great king himself doth woo me oft +For my confections? Having thus far proceeded, +Unless thou think'st me devilish, is 't not meet +That I did amplify my judgment in +Other conclusions? I will try the forces +Of these thy compounds on such creatures as +We count not worth the hanging--but none human-- +To try the vigor of them and apply +Allayments to their act, and by them gather +Their several virtues and effects. + +CORNELIUS Your Highness +Shall from this practice but make hard your heart. +Besides, the seeing these effects will be +Both noisome and infectious. + +QUEEN O, content thee. + +[Enter Pisanio.] + +[Aside.] Here comes a flattering rascal. Upon him +Will I first work. He's for his master +And enemy to my son.--How now, Pisanio?-- +Doctor, your service for this time is ended. +Take your own way. + +CORNELIUS, [aside] I do suspect you, madam, +But you shall do no harm. + +QUEEN, [to Pisanio] Hark thee, a word. + +CORNELIUS, [aside] +I do not like her. She doth think she has +Strange ling'ring poisons. I do know her spirit, +And will not trust one of her malice with +A drug of such damned nature. Those she has +Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile, +Which first perchance she'll prove on cats and dogs, +Then afterward up higher. But there is +No danger in what show of death it makes, +More than the locking-up the spirits a time, +To be more fresh, reviving. She is fooled +With a most false effect, and I the truer +So to be false with her. + +QUEEN No further service, doctor, +Until I send for thee. + +CORNELIUS I humbly take my leave. [He exits.] + +QUEEN +Weeps she still, sayst thou? Dost thou think in time +She will not quench and let instructions enter +Where folly now possesses? Do thou work. +When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son, +I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then +As great as is thy master; greater, for +His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name +Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor +Continue where he is. To shift his being +Is to exchange one misery with another, +And every day that comes comes to decay +A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect, +To be depender on a thing that leans, +Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends +So much as but to prop him? [(She drops the box +and Pisanio picks it up.)] Thou tak'st up +Thou know'st not what. But take it for thy labor. +It is a thing I made which hath the King +Five times redeemed from death. I do not know +What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee, take it. +It is an earnest of a farther good +That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how +The case stands with her. Do 't as from thyself. +Think what a chance thou changest on, but think +Thou hast thy mistress still; to boot, my son, +Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the King +To any shape of thy preferment such +As thou 'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly, +That set thee on to this desert, am bound +To load thy merit richly. Call my women. +Think on my words. [Pisanio exits.] +A sly and constant knave, +Not to be shaked; the agent for his master +And the remembrancer of her to hold +The handfast to her lord. I have given him that +Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her +Of liegers for her sweet, and which she after, +Except she bend her humor, shall be assured +To taste of too. + +[Enter Pisanio and Ladies carrying flowers.] + +[To the Ladies.] So, so. Well done, well done. +The violets, cowslips, and the primroses +Bear to my closet.--Fare thee well, Pisanio. +Think on my words. [Queen and Ladies exit.] + +PISANIO And shall do. +But when to my good lord I prove untrue, +I'll choke myself; there's all I'll do for you. +[He exits.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Imogen alone.] + + +IMOGEN +A father cruel and a stepdame false, +A foolish suitor to a wedded lady +That hath her husband banished. O, that husband, +My supreme crown of grief and those repeated +Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n, +As my two brothers, happy; but most miserable +Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those, +How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, +Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie! + +[Enter Pisanio and Iachimo.] + + +PISANIO +Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome +Comes from my lord with letters. + +IACHIMO Change you, +madam? +The worthy Leonatus is in safety +And greets your Highness dearly. +[He gives her a letter.] + +IMOGEN Thanks, good sir. +You're kindly welcome. + +IACHIMO, [aside] +All of her that is out of door, most rich! +If she be furnished with a mind so rare, +She is alone th' Arabian bird, and I +Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend. +Arm me, audacity, from head to foot, +Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight-- +Rather, directly fly. + +IMOGEN [reads:] He is one of the noblest note, to whose +kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon +him accordingly as you value your trust. +Leonatus. +So far I read aloud. +But even the very middle of my heart +Is warmed by th' rest and takes it thankfully.-- +You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I +Have words to bid you, and shall find it so +In all that I can do. + +IACHIMO Thanks, fairest lady.-- +What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes +To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop +Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt +The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones +Upon the numbered beach, and can we not +Partition make with spectacles so precious +'Twixt fair and foul? + +IMOGEN What makes your admiration? + +IACHIMO +It cannot be i' th' eye, for apes and monkeys +'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and +Contemn with mows the other; nor i' th' judgment, +For idiots in this case of favor would +Be wisely definite; nor i' th' appetite-- +Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed +Should make desire vomit emptiness, +Not so allured to feed. + +IMOGEN +What is the matter, trow? + +IACHIMO The cloyed will, +That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub +Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb, +Longs after for the garbage. + +IMOGEN What, dear sir, +Thus raps you? Are you well? + +IACHIMO Thanks, madam, well. +[(To Pisanio.)] Beseech you, sir, +Desire my man's abode where I did leave him. +He's strange and peevish. + +PISANIO I was going, sir, +To give him welcome. [He exits.] + +IMOGEN +Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you? + +IACHIMO Well, madam. + +IMOGEN +Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. + +IACHIMO +Exceeding pleasant. None a stranger there +So merry and so gamesome. He is called +The Briton Reveler. + +IMOGEN When he was here +He did incline to sadness, and ofttimes +Not knowing why. + +IACHIMO I never saw him sad. +There is a Frenchman his companion, one +An eminent monsieur that, it seems, much loves +A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces +The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton-- +Your lord, I mean--laughs from 's free lungs, cries "O, +Can my sides hold to think that man who knows +By history, report, or his own proof +What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose +But must be, will 's free hours languish for +Assured bondage?" + +IMOGEN Will my lord say so? + +IACHIMO +Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter. +It is a recreation to be by +And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens +know +Some men are much to blame. + +IMOGEN Not he, I hope. + +IACHIMO +Not he--but yet heaven's bounty towards him might +Be used more thankfully. In himself 'tis much; +In you, which I account his, beyond all talents. +Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound +To pity too. + +IMOGEN What do you pity, sir? + +IACHIMO +Two creatures heartily. + +IMOGEN Am I one, sir? +You look on me. What wrack discern you in me +Deserves your pity? + +IACHIMO Lamentable! What, +To hide me from the radiant sun and solace +I' th' dungeon by a snuff? + +IMOGEN I pray you, sir, +Deliver with more openness your answers +To my demands. Why do you pity me? + +IACHIMO That others do-- +I was about to say, enjoy your--but +It is an office of the gods to venge it, +Not mine to speak on 't. + +IMOGEN You do seem to know +Something of me or what concerns me. Pray you, +Since doubting things go ill often hurts more +Than to be sure they do--for certainties +Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, +The remedy then born--discover to me +What both you spur and stop. + +IACHIMO Had I this cheek +To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, +Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul +To th' oath of loyalty; this object which +Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, +Fixing it only here; should I, damned then, +Slaver with lips as common as the stairs +That mount the Capitol, join gripes with hands +Made hard with hourly falsehood--falsehood as +With labor; then by-peeping in an eye +Base and illustrous as the smoky light +That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit +That all the plagues of hell should at one time +Encounter such revolt. + +IMOGEN My lord, I fear, +Has forgot Britain. + +IACHIMO And himself. Not I, +Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce +The beggary of his change, but 'tis your graces +That from my mutest conscience to my tongue +Charms this report out. + +IMOGEN Let me hear no more. + +IACHIMO +O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart +With pity that doth make me sick. A lady +So fair, and fastened to an empery +Would make the great'st king double, to be partnered +With tomboys hired with that self exhibition +Which your own coffers yield, with diseased ventures +That play with all infirmities for gold +Which rottenness can lend nature; such boiled stuff +As well might poison poison. Be revenged, +Or she that bore you was no queen, and you +Recoil from your great stock. + +IMOGEN Revenged? +How should I be revenged? If this be true-- +As I have such a heart that both mine ears +Must not in haste abuse--if it be true, +How should I be revenged? + +IACHIMO Should he make me +Live like Diana's priest betwixt cold sheets, +Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps, +In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. +I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, +More noble than that runagate to your bed, +And will continue fast to your affection, +Still close as sure. + +IMOGEN What ho, Pisanio! + +IACHIMO +Let me my service tender on your lips. + +IMOGEN +Away! I do condemn mine ears that have +So long attended thee. If thou wert honorable, +Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not +For such an end thou seek'st, as base as strange. +Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far +From thy report as thou from honor, and +Solicits here a lady that disdains +Thee and the devil alike.--What ho, Pisanio!-- +The King my father shall be made acquainted +Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit +A saucy stranger in his court to mart +As in a Romish stew and to expound +His beastly mind to us, he hath a court +He little cares for and a daughter who +He not respects at all.--What ho, Pisanio! + +IACHIMO +O happy Leonatus! I may say +The credit that thy lady hath of thee +Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness +Her assured credit.--Blessed live you long, +A lady to the worthiest sir that ever +Country called his; and you his mistress, only +For the most worthiest fit. Give me your pardon. +I have spoke this to know if your affiance +Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord +That which he is, new o'er; and he is one +The truest mannered, such a holy witch +That he enchants societies into him. +Half all men's hearts are his. + +IMOGEN You make amends. + +IACHIMO +He sits 'mongst men like a descended god. +He hath a kind of honor sets him off +More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, +Most mighty princess, that I have adventured +To try your taking of a false report, which hath +Honored with confirmation your great judgment +In the election of a sir so rare, +Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him +Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you, +Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon. + +IMOGEN +All's well, sir. Take my power i' th' court for yours. + +IACHIMO +My humble thanks. I had almost forgot +T' entreat your Grace but in a small request, +And yet of moment too, for it concerns. +Your lord, myself, and other noble friends +Are partners in the business. + +IMOGEN Pray, what is 't? + +IACHIMO +Some dozen Romans of us and your lord-- +The best feather of our wing--have mingled sums +To buy a present for the Emperor; +Which I, the factor for the rest, have done +In France. 'Tis plate of rare device and jewels +Of rich and exquisite form, their values great. +And I am something curious, being strange, +To have them in safe stowage. May it please you +To take them in protection? + +IMOGEN Willingly; +And pawn mine honor for their safety. Since +My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them +In my bedchamber. + +IACHIMO They are in a trunk +Attended by my men. I will make bold +To send them to you, only for this night. +I must aboard tomorrow. + +IMOGEN O no, no. + +IACHIMO +Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word +By length'ning my return. From Gallia +I crossed the seas on purpose and on promise +To see your Grace. + +IMOGEN I thank you for your pains. +But not away tomorrow. + +IACHIMO O, I must, madam. +Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please +To greet your lord with writing, do 't tonight. +I have outstood my time, which is material +To th' tender of our present. + +IMOGEN I will write. +Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept +And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Cloten and the two Lords.] + + +CLOTEN Was there ever man had such luck? When I +kissed the jack, upon an upcast to be hit away? I +had a hundred pound on 't. And then a whoreson +jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I +borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend +them at my pleasure. + +FIRST LORD What got he by that? You have broke his +pate with your bowl. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] If his wit had been like him that +broke it, it would have run all out. + +CLOTEN When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is +not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha? + +SECOND LORD No, my lord, [(aside)] nor crop the ears +of them. + +CLOTEN Whoreson dog! I gave him satisfaction. Would +he had been one of my rank. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] To have smelled like a fool. + +CLOTEN I am not vexed more at anything in th' Earth. +A pox on 't! I had rather not be so noble as I am. +They dare not fight with me because of the Queen +my mother. Every jack-slave hath his bellyful of +fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock +that nobody can match. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] You are cock and capon too, and +you crow cock with your comb on. + +CLOTEN Sayest thou? + +SECOND LORD It is not fit your Lordship should undertake +every companion that you give offense to. + +CLOTEN No, I know that, but it is fit I should commit +offense to my inferiors. + +SECOND LORD Ay, it is fit for your Lordship only. + +CLOTEN Why, so I say. + +FIRST LORD Did you hear of a stranger that's come to +court tonight? + +CLOTEN A stranger, and I not know on 't? + +SECOND LORD, [aside] He's a strange fellow himself and +knows it not. + +FIRST LORD There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought +one of Leonatus' friends. + +CLOTEN Leonatus? A banished rascal; and he's another, +whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? + +FIRST LORD One of your Lordship's pages. + +CLOTEN Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no +derogation in 't? + +SECOND LORD You cannot derogate, my lord. + +CLOTEN Not easily, I think. + +SECOND LORD, [aside] You are a fool granted; therefore +your issues, being foolish, do not derogate. + +CLOTEN Come, I'll go see this Italian. What I have lost +today at bowls I'll win tonight of him. Come, go. + +SECOND LORD I'll attend your Lordship. +[Cloten and First Lord exit.] +That such a crafty devil as is his mother +Should yield the world this ass! A woman that +Bears all down with her brain, and this her son +Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart, +And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess, +Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st, +Betwixt a father by thy stepdame governed, +A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer +More hateful than the foul expulsion is +Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act +Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm +The walls of thy dear honor, keep unshaked +That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand +T' enjoy thy banished lord and this great land. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[A trunk is brought in. Enter Imogen, reading, in her +bed, and a Lady.] + + +IMOGEN +Who's there? My woman Helen? + +LADY Please you, madam. + +IMOGEN +What hour is it? + +LADY Almost midnight, madam. + +IMOGEN +I have read three hours then. Mine eyes are weak. +[She hands the Lady her book.] +Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed. +Take not away the taper; leave it burning. +And if thou canst awake by four o' th' clock, +I prithee, call me. [(Lady exits.)] Sleep hath seized +me wholly. +To your protection I commend me, gods. +From fairies and the tempters of the night +Guard me, beseech you. [Sleeps.] + +[Iachimo from the trunk.] + + +IACHIMO +The crickets sing, and man's o'erlabored sense +Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus +Did softly press the rushes ere he wakened +The chastity he wounded.--Cytherea, +How bravely thou becom'st thy bed, fresh lily, +And whiter than the sheets.--That I might touch! +But kiss, one kiss! Rubies unparagoned, +How dearly they do 't. 'Tis her breathing that +Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o' th' taper +Bows toward her and would underpeep her lids +To see th' enclosed lights, now canopied +Under these windows, white and azure-laced +With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design: +To note the chamber. I will write all down. +[He begins to write.] +Such and such pictures; there the window; such +Th' adornment of her bed; the arras, figures, +Why, such and such; and the contents o' th' story. +[He continues to write.] +Ah, but some natural notes about her body +Above ten thousand meaner movables +Would testify t' enrich mine inventory. +O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her, +And be her sense but as a monument +Thus in a chapel lying. [(He begins to remove her +bracelet.)] Come off, come off; +As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard. +'Tis mine, and this will witness outwardly +As strongly as the conscience does within +To th' madding of her lord. On her left breast +A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops +I' th' bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher +Stronger than ever law could make. This secret +Will force him think I have picked the lock and ta'en +The treasure of her honor. No more. To what end? +Why should I write this down that's riveted, +Screwed to my memory? She hath been reading late +The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turned down +Where Philomel gave up. I have enough. +To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it. +Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning +May bare the raven's eye. I lodge in fear. +Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. +[Clock strikes.] +One, two, three. Time, time! +[He exits into the trunk. The trunk +and bed are removed.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cloten and Lords.] + + +FIRST LORD Your Lordship is the most patient man in +loss, the most coldest that ever turned up ace. + +CLOTEN It would make any man cold to lose. + +FIRST LORD But not every man patient after the noble +temper of your Lordship. You are most hot and +furious when you win. + +CLOTEN Winning will put any man into courage. If I +could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold +enough. It's almost morning, is 't not? + +FIRST LORD Day, my lord. + +CLOTEN I would this music would come. I am advised +to give her music a-mornings; they say it will +penetrate. + +[Enter Musicians.] + +Come on, tune. If you can penetrate her with your +fingering, so. We'll try with tongue, too. If none +will do, let her remain, but I'll never give o'er. First, +a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful +sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, +and then let her consider. + +[Musicians begin to play.] +Song. + + Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings, + And Phoebus gins arise, + His steeds to water at those springs + On chaliced flowers that lies; + And winking Mary-buds begin + To ope their golden eyes. + With everything that pretty is, + My lady sweet, arise, + Arise, arise. + +CLOTEN So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will +consider your music the better. If it do not, it is a +vice in her ears which horsehairs and calves' +guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can +never amend. +[Musicians exit.] + +[Enter Cymbeline and Queen, with Attendants.] + + +SECOND LORD Here comes the King. + +CLOTEN I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason +I was up so early. He cannot choose but take this +service I have done fatherly.--Good morrow to +your Majesty and to my gracious mother. + +CYMBELINE +Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? +Will she not forth? + +CLOTEN I have assailed her with musics, but she +vouchsafes no notice. + +CYMBELINE +The exile of her minion is too new; +She hath not yet forgot him. Some more time +Must wear the print of his remembrance on 't, +And then she's yours. + +QUEEN, [to Cloten] You are most bound to th' King, +Who lets go by no vantages that may +Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself +To orderly solicits and be friended +With aptness of the season. Make denials +Increase your services. So seem as if +You were inspired to do those duties which +You tender to her; that you in all obey her, +Save when command to your dismission tends, +And therein you are senseless. + +CLOTEN Senseless? Not so. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER, [to Cymbeline] +So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome; +The one is Caius Lucius. [Messenger exits.] + +CYMBELINE A worthy fellow, +Albeit he comes on angry purpose now. +But that's no fault of his. We must receive him +According to the honor of his sender, +And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us, +We must extend our notice.--Our dear son, +When you have given good morning to your mistress, +Attend the Queen and us. We shall have need +T' employ you towards this Roman.--Come, our +queen. +[Cymbeline and Queen exit, with +Lords and Attendants.] + +CLOTEN +If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, +Let her lie still and dream. [(He knocks.)] By your +leave, ho!-- +I know her women are about her. What +If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold +Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes +Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up +Their deer to th' stand o' th' stealer; and 'tis gold +Which makes the true man killed and saves the thief, +Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man. What +Can it not do and undo? I will make +One of her women lawyer to me, for +I yet not understand the case myself. +By your leave. [Knocks.] + +[Enter a Lady.] + + +LADY +Who's there that knocks? + +CLOTEN A gentleman. + +LADY No more? + +CLOTEN +Yes, and a gentlewoman's son. + +LADY That's more +Than some whose tailors are as dear as yours +Can justly boast of. What's your Lordship's pleasure? + +CLOTEN +Your lady's person. Is she ready? + +LADY Ay, +To keep her chamber. + +CLOTEN There is gold for you. +Sell me your good report. [He offers a purse.] + +LADY +How, my good name? Or to report of you +What I shall think is good? + +[Enter Imogen.] + +The Princess. +[Lady exits.] + +CLOTEN +Good morrow, fairest sister. Your sweet hand. + +IMOGEN +Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains +For purchasing but trouble. The thanks I give +Is telling you that I am poor of thanks +And scarce can spare them. + +CLOTEN Still I swear I love you. + +IMOGEN +If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me. +If you swear still, your recompense is still +That I regard it not. + +CLOTEN This is no answer. + +IMOGEN +But that you shall not say I yield being silent, +I would not speak. I pray you, spare me. Faith, +I shall unfold equal discourtesy +To your best kindness. One of your great knowing +Should learn, being taught, forbearance. + +CLOTEN +To leave you in your madness 'twere my sin. +I will not. + +IMOGEN +Fools are not mad folks. + +CLOTEN Do you call me fool? + +IMOGEN As I am mad, I do. +If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad. +That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, +You put me to forget a lady's manners +By being so verbal; and learn now for all +That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce, +By th' very truth of it, I care not for you, +And am so near the lack of charity +To accuse myself I hate you--which I had rather +You felt than make 't my boast. + +CLOTEN You sin against +Obedience, which you owe your father. For +The contract you pretend with that base wretch-- +One bred of alms and fostered with cold dishes, +With scraps o' th' court--it is no contract, none; +And though it be allowed in meaner parties-- +Yet who than he more mean?--to knit their souls, +On whom there is no more dependency +But brats and beggary, in self-figured knot; +Yet you are curbed from that enlargement by +The consequence o' th' crown, and must not foil +The precious note of it with a base slave, +A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth, +A pantler--not so eminent. + +IMOGEN Profane fellow, +Wert thou the son of Jupiter and no more +But what thou art besides, thou wert too base +To be his groom. Thou wert dignified enough, +Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made +Comparative for your virtues to be styled +The under-hangman of his kingdom and hated +For being preferred so well. + +CLOTEN The south fog rot him! + +IMOGEN +He never can meet more mischance than come +To be but named of thee. His mean'st garment +That ever hath but clipped his body is dearer +In my respect than all the hairs above thee, +Were they all made such men.--How now, Pisanio! + +[Enter Pisanio.] + + +CLOTEN "His garment"? Now the devil-- + +IMOGEN, [to Pisanio] +To Dorothy, my woman, hie thee presently. + +CLOTEN +"His garment"? + +IMOGEN, [to Pisanio] I am sprighted with a fool, +Frighted and angered worse. Go bid my woman +Search for a jewel that too casually +Hath left mine arm. It was thy master's. Shrew me +If I would lose it for a revenue +Of any king's in Europe. I do think +I saw 't this morning. Confident I am +Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kissed it. +I hope it be not gone to tell my lord +That I kiss aught but he. + +PISANIO 'Twill not be lost. + +IMOGEN +I hope so. Go and search. [Pisanio exits.] + +CLOTEN You have abused me. +"His meanest garment"? + +IMOGEN Ay, I said so, sir. +If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't. + +CLOTEN +I will inform your father. + +IMOGEN Your mother too. +She's my good lady and will conceive, I hope, +But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir, +To th' worst of discontent. [She exits.] + +CLOTEN +I'll be revenged! "His mean'st garment"? Well. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Posthumus and Philario.] + + +POSTHUMUS +Fear it not, sir. I would I were so sure +To win the King as I am bold her honor +Will remain hers. + +PHILARIO What means do you make to him? + +POSTHUMUS +Not any, but abide the change of time, +Quake in the present winter's state, and wish +That warmer days would come. In these feared +hopes +I barely gratify your love; they failing, +I must die much your debtor. + +PHILARIO +Your very goodness and your company +O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king +Hath heard of great Augustus. Caius Lucius +Will do 's commission throughly. And I think +He'll grant the tribute, send th' arrearages, +Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance +Is yet fresh in their grief. + +POSTHUMUS I do believe, +Statist though I am none nor like to be, +That this will prove a war; and you shall hear +The legion now in Gallia sooner landed +In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings +Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen +Are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar +Smiled at their lack of skill but found their courage +Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, +Now winged with their courages, will make known +To their approvers they are people such +That mend upon the world. + +[Enter Iachimo.] + + +PHILARIO See, Iachimo! + +POSTHUMUS +The swiftest harts have posted you by land, +And winds of all the corners kissed your sails +To make your vessel nimble. + +PHILARIO Welcome, sir. + +POSTHUMUS +I hope the briefness of your answer made +The speediness of your return. + +IACHIMO Your lady +Is one of the fairest that I have looked upon. + +POSTHUMUS +And therewithal the best, or let her beauty +Look thorough a casement to allure false hearts +And be false with them. + +IACHIMO, [handing him a paper] Here are letters for you. + +POSTHUMUS +Their tenor good, I trust. + +IACHIMO 'Tis very like. +[Posthumus reads the letter.] + +PHILARIO +Was Caius Lucius in the Briton court +When you were there? + +IACHIMO +He was expected then, but not approached. + +POSTHUMUS All is well yet. +Sparkles this stone as it was wont, or is 't not +Too dull for your good wearing? +[He indicates his ring.] + +IACHIMO If I have lost it, +I should have lost the worth of it in gold. +I'll make a journey twice as far t' enjoy +A second night of such sweet shortness which +Was mine in Britain, for the ring is won. + +POSTHUMUS +The stone's too hard to come by. + +IACHIMO Not a whit, +Your lady being so easy. + +POSTHUMUS Make not, sir, +Your loss your sport. I hope you know that we +Must not continue friends. + +IACHIMO Good sir, we must, +If you keep covenant. Had I not brought +The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant +We were to question farther; but I now +Profess myself the winner of her honor, +Together with your ring, and not the wronger +Of her or you, having proceeded but +By both your wills. + +POSTHUMUS If you can make 't apparent +That you have tasted her in bed, my hand +And ring is yours. If not, the foul opinion +You had of her pure honor gains or loses +Your sword or mine, or masterless leave both +To who shall find them. + +IACHIMO Sir, my circumstances, +Being so near the truth as I will make them, +Must first induce you to believe; whose strength +I will confirm with oath, which I doubt not +You'll give me leave to spare when you shall find +You need it not. + +POSTHUMUS Proceed. + +IACHIMO First, her bedchamber-- +Where I confess I slept not, but profess +Had that was well worth watching--it was hanged +With tapestry of silk and silver, the story +Proud Cleopatra when she met her Roman +And Cydnus swelled above the banks, or for +The press of boats or pride. A piece of work +So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive +In workmanship and value, which I wondered +Could be so rarely and exactly wrought +Since the true life on 't was-- + +POSTHUMUS This is true, +And this you might have heard of here, by me +Or by some other. + +IACHIMO More particulars +Must justify my knowledge. + +POSTHUMUS So they must, +Or do your honor injury. + +IACHIMO The chimney +Is south the chamber, and the chimney-piece +Chaste Dian bathing. Never saw I figures +So likely to report themselves; the cutter +Was as another Nature, dumb, outwent her, +Motion and breath left out. + +POSTHUMUS This is a thing +Which you might from relation likewise reap, +Being, as it is, much spoke of. + +IACHIMO The roof o' th' chamber +With golden cherubins is fretted. Her andirons-- +I had forgot them--were two winking Cupids +Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely +Depending on their brands. + +POSTHUMUS This is her honor? +Let it be granted you have seen all this--and praise +Be given to your remembrance--the description +Of what is in her chamber nothing saves +The wager you have laid. + +IACHIMO Then if you can +Be pale, I beg but leave to air this jewel. See-- +[He shows the bracelet.] +And now 'tis up again. It must be married +To that your diamond. I'll keep them. + +POSTHUMUS Jove! +Once more let me behold it. Is it that +Which I left with her? + +IACHIMO Sir, I thank her, that. +She stripped it from her arm. I see her yet. +Her pretty action did outsell her gift +And yet enriched it too. She gave it me +And said she prized it once. + +POSTHUMUS Maybe she plucked it off +To send it me. + +IACHIMO She writes so to you, doth she? + +POSTHUMUS +O, no, no, no, 'tis true. Here, take this too. +[He gives Iachimo the ring.] +It is a basilisk unto mine eye, +Kills me to look on 't. Let there be no honor +Where there is beauty, truth where semblance, love +Where there's another man. The vows of women +Of no more bondage be to where they are made +Than they are to their virtues, which is nothing. +O, above measure false! + +PHILARIO Have patience, sir, +And take your ring again. 'Tis not yet won. +It may be probable she lost it; or +Who knows if one her women, being corrupted, +Hath stol'n it from her. + +POSTHUMUS Very true, +And so I hope he came by 't.--Back, my ring! +[He takes back the ring.] +Render to me some corporal sign about her +More evident than this, for this was stol'n. + +IACHIMO +By Jupiter, I had it from her arm. + +POSTHUMUS +Hark you, he swears! By Jupiter he swears. +'Tis true--nay, keep the ring--'tis true. +[He holds out the ring.] +I am sure +She would not lose it. Her attendants are +All sworn and honorable. They induced to steal it? +And by a stranger? No, he hath enjoyed her. +The cognizance of her incontinency +Is this. She hath bought the name of whore thus +dearly. +There, take thy hire, and all the fiends of hell +Divide themselves between you! +[He gives the ring to Iachimo.] + +PHILARIO Sir, be patient. +This is not strong enough to be believed +Of one persuaded well of. + +POSTHUMUS Never talk on 't. +She hath been colted by him. + +IACHIMO If you seek +For further satisfying, under her breast, +Worthy the pressing, lies a mole, right proud +Of that most delicate lodging. By my life, +I kissed it, and it gave me present hunger +To feed again, though full. You do remember +This stain upon her? + +POSTHUMUS Ay, and it doth confirm +Another stain as big as hell can hold, +Were there no more but it. + +IACHIMO Will you hear more? + +POSTHUMUS Spare your arithmetic; +Never count the turns. Once, and a million! + +IACHIMO I'll be sworn-- + +POSTHUMUS No swearing. +If you will swear you have not done 't, you lie, +And I will kill thee if thou dost deny +Thou 'st made me cuckold. + +IACHIMO I'll deny nothing. + +POSTHUMUS +O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal! +I will go there and do 't i' th' court, before +Her father. I'll do something. [He exits.] + +PHILARIO Quite beside +The government of patience. You have won. +Let's follow him and pervert the present wrath +He hath against himself. + +IACHIMO With all my heart. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Posthumus.] + + +POSTHUMUS +Is there no way for men to be, but women +Must be half-workers? We are all bastards, +And that most venerable man which I +Did call my father was I know not where +When I was stamped. Some coiner with his tools +Made me a counterfeit; yet my mother seemed +The Dian of that time; so doth my wife +The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance! +Me of my lawful pleasure she restrained +And prayed me oft forbearance; did it with +A pudency so rosy the sweet view on 't +Might well have warmed old Saturn, that I thought +her +As chaste as unsunned snow. O, all the devils! +This yellow Iachimo in an hour, was 't not? +Or less? At first? Perchance he spoke not, but, +Like a full-acorned boar, a German one, +Cried "O!" and mounted; found no opposition +But what he looked for should oppose and she +Should from encounter guard. Could I find out +The woman's part in me--for there's no motion +That tends to vice in man but I affirm +It is the woman's part: be it lying, note it, +The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers; +Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers; +Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, +Nice longing, slanders, mutability, +All faults that have a name, nay, that hell knows, +Why, hers, in part or all, but rather all. +For even to vice +They are not constant, but are changing still +One vice but of a minute old for one +Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, +Detest them, curse them. Yet 'tis greater skill +In a true hate to pray they have their will; +The very devils cannot plague them better. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter in state Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords at +one door, and, at another, Caius Lucius and Attendants.] + + +CYMBELINE +Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us? + +LUCIUS +When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance yet +Lives in men's eyes and will to ears and tongues +Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain +And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle, +Famous in Caesar's praises no whit less +Than in his feats deserving it, for him +And his succession granted Rome a tribute, +Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately +Is left untendered. + +QUEEN And, to kill the marvel, +Shall be so ever. + +CLOTEN There be many Caesars +Ere such another Julius. Britain's a world +By itself, and we will nothing pay +For wearing our own noses. + +QUEEN That opportunity +Which then they had to take from 's, to resume +We have again.--Remember, sir, my liege, +The Kings your ancestors, together with +The natural bravery of your isle, which stands +As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in +With rocks unscalable and roaring waters, +With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats +But suck them up to th' topmast. A kind of conquest +Caesar made here, but made not here his brag +Of "came, and saw, and overcame." With shame-- +The first that ever touched him--he was carried +From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping, +Poor ignorant baubles, on our terrible seas +Like eggshells moved upon their surges, cracked +As easily 'gainst our rocks. For joy whereof +The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point-- +O, giglet Fortune!--to master Caesar's sword, +Made Lud's Town with rejoicing fires bright +And Britons strut with courage. + +CLOTEN Come, there's no more tribute to be paid. Our +kingdom is stronger than it was at that time, and, +as I said, there is no more such Caesars. Other of +them may have crooked noses, but to owe such +straight arms, none. + +CYMBELINE Son, let your mother end. + +CLOTEN We have yet many among us can grip as hard +as Cassibelan. I do not say I am one, but I have a +hand. Why tribute? Why should we pay tribute? If +Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket or +put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute +for light; else, sir, no more tribute, pray you now. + +CYMBELINE, [to Lucius] You must know, +Till the injurious Romans did extort +This tribute from us, we were free. Caesar's ambition, +Which swelled so much that it did almost stretch +The sides o' th' world, against all color here +Did put the yoke upon 's, which to shake off +Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon +Ourselves to be. We do say, then, to Caesar, +Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which +Ordained our laws, whose use the sword of Caesar +Hath too much mangled, whose repair and franchise +Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, +Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made +our laws, +Who was the first of Britain which did put +His brows within a golden crown and called +Himself a king. + +LUCIUS I am sorry, Cymbeline, +That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar-- +Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than +Thyself domestic officers--thine enemy. +Receive it from me, then: war and confusion +In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee. Look +For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied, +I thank thee for myself. + +CYMBELINE Thou art welcome, Caius. +Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent +Much under him. Of him I gathered honor, +Which he to seek of me again perforce +Behooves me keep at utterance. I am perfect +That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for +Their liberties are now in arms, a precedent +Which not to read would show the Britons cold. +So Caesar shall not find them. + +LUCIUS Let proof speak. + +CLOTEN His Majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime +with us a day or two, or longer. If you seek us afterwards +in other terms, you shall find us in our saltwater +girdle; if you beat us out of it, it is yours. If +you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the +better for you, and there's an end. + +LUCIUS So, sir. + +CYMBELINE +I know your master's pleasure, and he mine. +All the remain is welcome. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Pisanio reading of a letter.] + + +PISANIO +How? Of adultery? Wherefore write you not +What monsters her accuse? Leonatus, +O master, what a strange infection +Is fall'n into thy ear! What false Italian, +As poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevailed +On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No. +She's punished for her truth and undergoes, +More goddesslike than wifelike, such assaults +As would take in some virtue. O my master, +Thy mind to her is now as low as were +Thy fortunes. How? That I should murder her, +Upon the love and truth and vows which I +Have made to thy command? I her? Her blood? +If it be so to do good service, never +Let me be counted serviceable. How look I +That I should seem to lack humanity +So much as this fact comes to? [(He reads:)] Do 't! +The letter +That I have sent her, by her own command +Shall give thee opportunity. O damned paper, +Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble, +Art thou a fedary for this act, and look'st +So virginlike without? Lo, here she comes. + +[Enter Imogen.] + +I am ignorant in what I am commanded. + +IMOGEN How now, Pisanio? + +PISANIO +Madam, here is a letter from my lord. +[He gives her a paper.] + +IMOGEN +Who, thy lord that is my lord, Leonatus? +O, learned indeed were that astronomer +That knew the stars as I his characters! +He'd lay the future open. You good gods, +Let what is here contained relish of love, +Of my lord's health, of his content (yet not +That we two are asunder; let that grieve him. +Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them, +For it doth physic love) of his content +All but in that. Good wax, thy leave. +[She opens the letter.] +Blest be +You bees that make these locks of counsel. Lovers +And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike; +Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet +You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods! +[Reads.] Justice and your father's wrath, should he +take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me +as you, O the dearest of creatures, would even renew +me with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria +at Milford Haven. What your own love will out of +this advise you, follow. So he wishes you all happiness, +that remains loyal to his vow, and your increasing +in love. +Leonatus Posthumus. +O, for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio? +He is at Milford Haven. Read, and tell me +How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs +May plod it in a week, why may not I +Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio, +Who long'st like me to see thy lord, who long'st-- +O, let me bate--but not like me, yet long'st +But in a fainter kind--O, not like me, +For mine's beyond beyond--say, and speak thick-- +Love's counselor should fill the bores of hearing +To th' smothering of the sense--how far it is +To this same blessed Milford. And by th' way +Tell me how Wales was made so happy as +T' inherit such a haven. But first of all, +How we may steal from hence, and for the gap +That we shall make in time from our hence-going +And our return, to excuse. But first, how get hence? +Why should excuse be born or ere begot? +We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee speak, +How many score of miles may we well rid +'Twixt hour and hour? + +PISANIO One score 'twixt sun and sun, +Madam, 's enough for you, and too much too. + +IMOGEN +Why, one that rode to 's execution, man, +Could never go so slow. I have heard of riding wagers +Where horses have been nimbler than the sands +That run i' th' clock's behalf. But this is fool'ry. +Go, bid my woman feign a sickness, say +She'll home to her father; and provide me presently +A riding suit no costlier than would fit +A franklin's huswife. + +PISANIO Madam, you're best consider. + +IMOGEN +I see before me, man. Nor here, nor here, +Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them +That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee. +Do as I bid thee. There's no more to say. +Accessible is none but Milford way. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter, as from a cave, Belarius as Morgan, Guiderius +as Polydor, and Arviragus as Cadwal.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +A goodly day not to keep house with such +Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys. This gate +Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you +To a morning's holy office. The gates of monarchs +Are arched so high that giants may jet through +And keep their impious turbans on, without +Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven! +We house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly +As prouder livers do. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Hail, heaven! + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Hail, heaven! + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Now for our mountain sport. Up to yond hill; +Your legs are young. I'll tread these flats. Consider, +When you above perceive me like a crow, +That it is place which lessens and sets off, +And you may then revolve what tales I have told you +Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war. +This service is not service, so being done, +But being so allowed. To apprehend thus +Draws us a profit from all things we see, +And often, to our comfort, shall we find +The sharded beetle in a safer hold +Than is the full-winged eagle. O, this life +Is nobler than attending for a check, +Richer than doing nothing for a robe, +Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: +Such gain the cap of him that makes him fine +Yet keeps his book uncrossed. No life to ours. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Out of your proof you speak. We poor unfledged +Have never winged from view o' th' nest, nor know +not +What air 's from home. Haply this life is best +If quiet life be best, sweeter to you +That have a sharper known, well corresponding +With your stiff age; but unto us it is +A cell of ignorance, traveling abed, +A prison for a debtor that not dares +To stride a limit. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] What should we speak of +When we are old as you? When we shall hear +The rain and wind beat dark December, how +In this our pinching cave shall we discourse +The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing. +We are beastly: subtle as the fox for prey, +Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat. +Our valor is to chase what flies. Our cage +We make a choir, as doth the prisoned bird, +And sing our bondage freely. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] How you speak! +Did you but know the city's usuries +And felt them knowingly; the art o' th' court, +As hard to leave as keep, whose top to climb +Is certain falling, or so slipp'ry that +The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o' th' war, +A pain that only seems to seek out danger +I' th' name of fame and honor, which dies i' th' search +And hath as oft a sland'rous epitaph +As record of fair act--nay, many times +Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse, +Must curtsy at the censure. O boys, this story +The world may read in me. My body's marked +With Roman swords, and my report was once +First with the best of note. Cymbeline loved me, +And when a soldier was the theme, my name +Was not far off. Then was I as a tree +Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But in one night +A storm or robbery, call it what you will, +Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, +And left me bare to weather. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Uncertain favor! + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft, +But that two villains, whose false oaths prevailed +Before my perfect honor, swore to Cymbeline +I was confederate with the Romans. So +Followed my banishment; and this twenty years +This rock and these demesnes have been my world, +Where I have lived at honest freedom, paid +More pious debts to heaven than in all +The fore-end of my time. But up to th' mountains! +This is not hunters' language. He that strikes +The venison first shall be the lord o' th' feast; +To him the other two shall minister, +And we will fear no poison, which attends +In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys. +[Guiderius and Arviragus exit.] + +BELARIUS +How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature! +These boys know little they are sons to th' King, +Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive. +They think they are mine, and, though trained up +thus meanly, +I' th' cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit +The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them +In simple and low things to prince it much +Beyond the trick of others. This Polydor, +The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who +The King his father called Guiderius--Jove! +When on my three-foot stool I sit and tell +The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out +Into my story; say "Thus mine enemy fell, +And thus I set my foot on 's neck," even then +The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats, +Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture +That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal, +Once Arviragus, in as like a figure +Strikes life into my speech and shows much more +His own conceiving. Hark, the game is roused! +O Cymbeline, heaven and my conscience knows +Thou didst unjustly banish me; whereon, +At three and two years old I stole these babes, +Thinking to bar thee of succession as +Thou refts me of my lands. Euriphile, +Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their +mother, +And every day do honor to her grave. +Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan called, +They take for natural father. The game is up! +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Pisanio and Imogen.] + + +IMOGEN +Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place +Was near at hand. Ne'er longed my mother so +To see me first as I have now. Pisanio, man, +Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind +That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that +sigh +From th' inward of thee? One but painted thus +Would be interpreted a thing perplexed +Beyond self-explication. Put thyself +Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness +Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter? +[Pisanio hands her a paper.] +Why tender'st thou that paper to me with +A look untender? If 't be summer news, +Smile to 't before; if winterly, thou need'st +But keep that count'nance still. My husband's hand! +That drug-damned Italy hath out-craftied him, +And he's at some hard point. Speak, man! Thy tongue +May take off some extremity, which to read +Would be even mortal to me. + +PISANIO Please you read, +And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing +The most disdained of fortune. + +IMOGEN [reads:] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the +strumpet in my bed, the testimonies whereof lies +bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises but +from proof as strong as my grief and as certain as I +expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act +for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of +hers. Let thine own hands take away her life. I shall +give thee opportunity at Milford Haven--she hath +my letter for the purpose--where, if thou fear to +strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art the +pander to her dishonor and equally to me disloyal. + +PISANIO, [aside] +What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper +Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander, +Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue +Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath +Rides on the posting winds and doth belie +All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states, +Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave +This viperous slander enters.--What cheer, madam? + +IMOGEN +False to his bed? What is it to be false? +To lie in watch there and to think on him? +To weep 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature, +To break it with a fearful dream of him +And cry myself awake? That's false to 's bed, is it? + +PISANIO Alas, good lady! + +IMOGEN +I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo, +Thou didst accuse him of incontinency. +Thou then looked'st like a villain. Now methinks +Thy favor's good enough. Some jay of Italy, +Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him. +Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion, +And, for I am richer than to hang by th' walls, +I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O, +Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming, +By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought +Put on for villainy, not born where 't grows, +But worn a bait for ladies. + +PISANIO Good madam, hear me. + +IMOGEN +True honest men, being heard like false Aeneas, +Were in his time thought false, and Sinon's weeping +Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity +From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus, +Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men; +Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured +From thy great fail.--Come, fellow, be thou honest; +Do thou thy master's bidding. When thou seest him, +A little witness my obedience. Look, +I draw the sword myself. +[She draws Pisanio's sword from its +scabbard and hands it to him.] +Take it, and hit +The innocent mansion of my love, my heart. +Fear not; 'tis empty of all things but grief. +Thy master is not there, who was indeed +The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike. +Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause, +But now thou seem'st a coward. + +PISANIO, [throwing down the sword] Hence, vile +instrument! +Thou shalt not damn my hand. + +IMOGEN Why, I must die, +And if I do not by thy hand, thou art +No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter +There is a prohibition so divine +That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart-- +Something's afore 't. Soft, soft! We'll no defense-- +Obedient as the scabbard. What is here? +[She takes papers from her bodice.] +The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus, +All turned to heresy? Away, away! +[She throws away the letters.] +Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more +Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools +Believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed +Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor +Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus, +That didst set up +My disobedience 'gainst the King my father +And make me put into contempt the suits +Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find +It is no act of common passage, but +A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself +To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her +That now thou tirest on, how thy memory +Will then be panged by me.--Prithee, dispatch. +The lamb entreats the butcher. Where's thy knife? +Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding +When I desire it too. + +PISANIO O gracious lady, +Since I received command to do this business +I have not slept one wink. + +IMOGEN Do 't, and to bed, then. + +PISANIO +I'll wake mine eyeballs out first. + +IMOGEN Wherefore then +Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused +So many miles with a pretense? This place? +Mine action and thine own? Our horses' labor? +The time inviting thee? The perturbed court +For my being absent, whereunto I never +Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far +To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand, +Th' elected deer before thee? + +PISANIO But to win time +To lose so bad employment, in the which +I have considered of a course. Good lady, +Hear me with patience. + +IMOGEN Talk thy tongue weary. +Speak. +I have heard I am a strumpet, and mine ear, +Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, +Nor tent to bottom that. But speak. + +PISANIO Then, madam, +I thought you would not back again. + +IMOGEN Most like, +Bringing me here to kill me. + +PISANIO Not so, neither. +But if I were as wise as honest, then +My purpose would prove well. It cannot be +But that my master is abused. Some villain, +Ay, and singular in his art, hath done +You both this cursed injury. + +IMOGEN +Some Roman courtesan? + +PISANIO No, on my life. +I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him +Some bloody sign of it, for 'tis commanded +I should do so. You shall be missed at court, +And that will well confirm it. + +IMOGEN Why, good fellow, +What shall I do the while? Where bide? How live? +Or in my life what comfort when I am +Dead to my husband? + +PISANIO If you'll back to th' court-- + +IMOGEN +No court, no father, nor no more ado +With that harsh, noble, simple nothing, +That Cloten, whose love suit hath been to me +As fearful as a siege. + +PISANIO If not at court, +Then not in Britain must you bide. + +IMOGEN Where, then? +Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night, +Are they not but in Britain? I' th' world's volume +Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't, +In a great pool a swan's nest. Prithee think +There's livers out of Britain. + +PISANIO I am most glad +You think of other place. Th' ambassador, +Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven +Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind +Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise +That which t' appear itself must not yet be +But by self-danger, you should tread a course +Pretty and full of view: yea, haply near +The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least, +That though his actions were not visible, yet +Report should render him hourly to your ear +As truly as he moves. + +IMOGEN O, for such means, +Though peril to my modesty, not death on 't, +I would adventure. + +PISANIO Well then, here's the point: +You must forget to be a woman; change +Command into obedience, fear and niceness-- +The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, +Woman it pretty self--into a waggish courage, +Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and +As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must +Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, +Exposing it--but O, the harder heart! +Alack, no remedy--to the greedy touch +Of common-kissing Titan, and forget +Your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein +You made great Juno angry. + +IMOGEN Nay, be brief. +I see into thy end and am almost +A man already. + +PISANIO First, make yourself but like one. +Forethinking this, I have already fit-- +'Tis in my cloakbag--doublet, hat, hose, all +That answer to them. Would you, in their serving, +And with what imitation you can borrow +From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius +Present yourself, desire his service, tell him +Wherein you're happy--which will make him know, +If that his head have ear in music--doubtless +With joy he will embrace you, for he's honorable +And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad: +You have me, rich, and I will never fail +Beginning nor supplyment. + +IMOGEN, [taking the cloakbag] Thou art all the comfort +The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away. +There's more to be considered, but we'll even +All that good time will give us. This attempt +I am soldier to, and will abide it with +A prince's courage. Away, I prithee. + +PISANIO +Well, madam, we must take a short farewell, +Lest, being missed, I be suspected of +Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, +Here is a box. I had it from the Queen. +[He hands her the box.] +What's in 't is precious. If you are sick at sea +Or stomach-qualmed at land, a dram of this +Will drive away distemper. To some shade, +And fit you to your manhood. May the gods +Direct you to the best. + +IMOGEN Amen. I thank thee. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, Lords, and +Attendants.] + + +CYMBELINE +Thus far, and so farewell. + +LUCIUS Thanks, royal sir. +My emperor hath wrote I must from hence, +And am right sorry that I must report you +My master's enemy. + +CYMBELINE Our subjects, sir, +Will not endure his yoke, and for ourself +To show less sovereignty than they must needs +Appear unkinglike. + +LUCIUS So, sir. I desire of you +A conduct overland to Milford Haven.-- +Madam, all joy befall your Grace--and you. + +CYMBELINE, [to Lords] +My lords, you are appointed for that office. +The due of honor in no point omit.-- +So, farewell, noble Lucius. + +LUCIUS, [to Cloten] Your hand, my lord. + +CLOTEN +Receive it friendly, but from this time forth +I wear it as your enemy. + +LUCIUS Sir, the event +Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well. + +CYMBELINE +Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, +Till he have crossed the Severn. Happiness! +[Exit Lucius and Lords.] + +QUEEN +He goes hence frowning, but it honors us +That we have given him cause. + +CLOTEN 'Tis all the better. +Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it. + +CYMBELINE +Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor +How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely +Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness. +The powers that he already hath in Gallia +Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves +His war for Britain. + +QUEEN 'Tis not sleepy business, +But must be looked to speedily and strongly. + +CYMBELINE +Our expectation that it would be thus +Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen, +Where is our daughter? She hath not appeared +Before the Roman, nor to us hath tendered +The duty of the day. She looks us like +A thing more made of malice than of duty. +We have noted it.--Call her before us, for +We have been too slight in sufferance. +[An Attendant exits.] + +QUEEN Royal sir, +Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired +Hath her life been, the cure whereof, my lord, +'Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty, +Forbear sharp speeches to her. She's a lady +So tender of rebukes that words are strokes +And strokes death to her. + +[Enter Attendant.] + + +CYMBELINE Where is she, sir? How +Can her contempt be answered? + +ATTENDANT Please you, sir, +Her chambers are all locked, and there's no answer +That will be given to th' loud'st noise we make. + +QUEEN +My lord, when last I went to visit her, +She prayed me to excuse her keeping close; +Whereto constrained by her infirmity, +She should that duty leave unpaid to you +Which daily she was bound to proffer. This +She wished me to make known, but our great court +Made me to blame in memory. + +CYMBELINE Her doors locked? +Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I +Fear prove false! [He exits with Attendant.] + +QUEEN Son, I say, follow the King. + +CLOTEN +That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant +I have not seen these two days. + +QUEEN Go, look after. +[Cloten exits.] +[Aside.] Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus-- +He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence +Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes +It is a thing most precious. But for her, +Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seized her, +Or, winged with fervor of her love, she's flown +To her desired Posthumus. Gone she is +To death or to dishonor, and my end +Can make good use of either. She being down, +I have the placing of the British crown. + +[Enter Cloten.] + +How now, my son? + +CLOTEN 'Tis certain she is fled. +Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none +Dare come about him. + +QUEEN, [aside] All the better. May +This night forestall him of the coming day! +[Queen exits, with Attendants.] + +CLOTEN +I love and hate her, for she's fair and royal, +And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite +Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one +The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, +Outsells them all. I love her therefore, but +Disdaining me and throwing favors on +The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment +That what's else rare is choked. And in that point +I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, +To be revenged upon her. For, when fools +Shall-- + +[Enter Pisanio.] + +Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah? +Come hither. Ah, you precious pander! Villain, +Where is thy lady? In a word, or else +Thou art straightway with the fiends. +[He draws his sword.] + +PISANIO O, good my lord-- + +CLOTEN +Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter-- +I will not ask again. Close villain, +I'll have this secret from thy heart or rip +Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus, +From whose so many weights of baseness cannot +A dram of worth be drawn? + +PISANIO Alas, my lord, +How can she be with him? When was she missed? +He is in Rome. + +CLOTEN Where is she, sir? Come nearer. +No farther halting. Satisfy me home +What is become of her. + +PISANIO +O, my all-worthy lord! + +CLOTEN All-worthy villain! +Discover where thy mistress is at once, +At the next word. No more of "worthy lord"! +Speak, or thy silence on the instant is +Thy condemnation and thy death. + +PISANIO Then, sir, +This paper is the history of my knowledge +Touching her flight. [He gives Cloten a paper.] + +CLOTEN Let's see 't. I will pursue her +Even to Augustus' throne. + +PISANIO, [aside] Or this or perish. +She's far enough, and what he learns by this +May prove his travail, not her danger. + +CLOTEN Humh! + +PISANIO, [aside] +I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen, +Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again! + +CLOTEN Sirrah, is this letter true? + +PISANIO Sir, as I think. + +CLOTEN It is Posthumus' hand, I know 't. Sirrah, if +thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service, +undergo those employments wherein I should +have cause to use thee with a serious industry-- +that is, what villainy soe'er I bid thee do to perform +it directly and truly--I would think thee an honest +man. Thou shouldst neither want my means for thy +relief nor my voice for thy preferment. + +PISANIO Well, my good lord. + +CLOTEN Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and +constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of +that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not in the +course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of +mine. Wilt thou serve me? + +PISANIO Sir, I will. + +CLOTEN Give me thy hand. Here's my purse. [Gives +him money.] Hast any of thy late master's garments +in thy possession? + +PISANIO I have, my lord, at my lodging the same suit he +wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. + +CLOTEN The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit +hither. Let it be thy first service. Go. + +PISANIO I shall, my lord. [He exits.] + +CLOTEN Meet thee at Milford Haven!--I forgot to ask +him one thing; I'll remember 't anon. Even there, +thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would +these garments were come. She said upon a time-- +the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart-- +that she held the very garment of Posthumus in +more respect than my noble and natural person, +together with the adornment of my qualities. With +that suit upon my back will I ravish her. First, kill +him, and in her eyes. There shall she see my valor, +which will then be a torment to her contempt. +He on the ground, my speech of insultment +ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath +dined--which, as I say, to vex her I will execute +in the clothes that she so praised--to the court +I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath +despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my +revenge. + +[Enter Pisanio with the clothes.] + +Be those the garments? + +PISANIO Ay, my noble lord. + +CLOTEN How long is 't since she went to Milford Haven? + +PISANIO She can scarce be there yet. + +CLOTEN Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the +second thing that I have commanded thee. The +third is that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my +design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall +tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford. +Would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true. +[He exits.] + +PISANIO +Thou bidd'st me to my loss, for true to thee +Were to prove false, which I will never be, +To him that is most true. To Milford go, +And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow, +You heavenly blessings, on her. This fool's speed +Be crossed with slowness. Labor be his meed. +[He exits.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Imogen alone, dressed as a boy, Fidele.] + + +IMOGEN +I see a man's life is a tedious one. +I have tired myself, and for two nights together +Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick +But that my resolution helps me. Milford, +When from the mountain top Pisanio showed thee, +Thou wast within a ken. O Jove, I think +Foundations fly the wretched--such, I mean, +Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me +I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie, +That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis +A punishment or trial? Yes. No wonder, +When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fullness +Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood +Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord, +Thou art one o' th' false ones. Now I think on thee, +My hunger's gone; but even before, I was +At point to sink for food. But what is this? +Here is a path to 't. 'Tis some savage hold. +I were best not call; I dare not call. Yet famine, +Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. +Plenty and peace breeds cowards; hardness ever +Of hardiness is mother.--Ho! Who's here? +If anything that's civil, speak; if savage, +Take or lend. Ho!--No answer? Then I'll enter. +Best draw my sword; an if mine enemy +But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on 't. +[She draws her sword.] +Such a foe, good heavens! +[She exits, as into the cave.] + +[Enter Belarius as Morgan, Guiderius as Polydor, and +Arviragus as Cadwal.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +You, Polydor, have proved best woodman and +Are master of the feast. Cadwal and I +Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match. +The sweat of industry would dry and die +But for the end it works to. Come, our stomachs +Will make what's homely savory. Weariness +Can snore upon the flint when resty sloth +Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here, +Poor house, that keep'st thyself. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] I am throughly weary. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +There is cold meat i' th' cave. We'll browse on that +Whilst what we have killed be cooked. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan, looking into the cave] +Stay, come +not in! +But that it eats our victuals, I should think +Here were a fairy. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] What's the matter, sir? + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +By Jupiter, an angel! Or, if not, +An earthly paragon. Behold divineness +No elder than a boy. + +[Enter Imogen as Fidele.] + + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] Good masters, harm me not. +Before I entered here, I called, and thought +To have begged or bought what I have took. Good +troth, +I have stol'n naught, nor would not, though I had +found +Gold strewed i' th' floor. Here's money for my meat. +[She offers money.] +I would have left it on the board so soon +As I had made my meal, and parted +With prayers for the provider. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Money, youth? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +All gold and silver rather turn to dirt, +As 'tis no better reckoned but of those +Who worship dirty gods. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] I see you're angry. +Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should +Have died had I not made it. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Whither bound? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] To Milford Haven. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] What's your name? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who +Is bound for Italy. He embarked at Milford, +To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, +I am fall'n in this offense. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Prithee, fair youth, +Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds +By this rude place we live in. Well encountered! +'Tis almost night; you shall have better cheer +Ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.-- +Boys, bid him welcome. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Were you a woman, youth, +I should woo hard but be your groom in honesty, +Ay, bid for you as I do buy. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] I'll make 't my comfort +He is a man. I'll love him as my brother.-- +And such a welcome as I'd give to him +After long absence, such is yours. Most welcome. +Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] 'Mongst +friends? +If brothers--[(aside)] Would it had been so, that they +Had been my father's sons! Then had my prize +Been less, and so more equal ballasting +To thee, Posthumus. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] He wrings at some distress. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Would I could free 't! + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Or I, whate'er it be, +What pain it cost, what danger. Gods! + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Hark, boys. +[They talk aside.] + +IMOGEN Great men +That had a court no bigger than this cave, +That did attend themselves and had the virtue +Which their own conscience sealed them, laying by +That nothing-gift of differing multitudes, +Could not outpeer these twain. Pardon me, gods! +I'd change my sex to be companion with them, +Since Leonatus false. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] It shall be so. +Boys, we'll go dress our hunt.--Fair youth, come in. +Discourse is heavy, fasting. When we have supped, +We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story +So far as thou wilt speak it. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Pray, draw near. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +The night to th' owl and morn to th' lark less +welcome. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] Thanks, sir. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] I pray, draw near. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter two Roman Senators, and Tribunes.] + + +FIRST SENATOR +This is the tenor of the Emperor's writ: +That since the common men are now in action +'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians, +And that the legions now in Gallia are +Full weak to undertake our wars against +The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite +The gentry to this business. He creates +Lucius proconsul; and to you the tribunes +For this immediate levy, he commends +His absolute commission. Long live Caesar! + +TRIBUNE +Is Lucius general of the forces? + +SECOND SENATOR Ay. + +TRIBUNE +Remaining now in Gallia? + +FIRST SENATOR With those legions +Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy +Must be supplyant. The words of your commission +Will tie you to the numbers and the time +Of their dispatch. + +TRIBUNE We will discharge our duty. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Cloten alone, dressed in Posthumus's garments.] + + +CLOTEN I am near to th' place where they should meet, +if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments +serve me! Why should his mistress, who +was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit +too? The rather, saving reverence of the word, for +'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I +must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself, +for it is not vainglory for a man and his glass to +confer in his own chamber. I mean, the lines of my +body are as well drawn as his, no less young, more +strong; not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him +in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, +alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable +in single oppositions. Yet this imperceiverant +thing loves him in my despite. What +mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is +growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour +be off, thy mistress enforced, thy garments cut to +pieces before thy face; and all this done, spurn her +home to her father, who may haply be a little angry +or my so rough usage. But my mother, having +power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. +My horse is tied up safe. Out, sword, +and to a sore purpose. Fortune, put them into my +hand! This is the very description of their meeting +place, and the fellow dares not deceive me. +[He draws his sword and exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Belarius as Morgan, Guiderius as Polydor, +Arviragus as Cadwal, and Imogen as Fidele, from the +cave.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan, to Fidele] +You are not well. Remain here in the cave. +We'll come to you after hunting. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal, to Fidele] Brother, stay here. +Are we not brothers? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] So man and man should be, +But clay and clay differs in dignity, +Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor, to Morgan and Cadwal] +Go you to hunting. I'll abide with him. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +So sick I am not, yet I am not well; +But not so citizen a wanton as +To seem to die ere sick. So please you, leave me. +Stick to your journal course. The breach of custom +Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me +Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort +To one not sociable. I am not very sick, +Since I can reason of it. Pray you trust me here-- +I'll rob none but myself--and let me die, +Stealing so poorly. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +I love thee--I have spoke it-- +How much the quantity, the weight as much +As I do love my father. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] What? How, how? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me +In my good brother's fault. I know not why +I love this youth, and I have heard you say +Love's reason's without reason. The bier at door, +And a demand who is 't shall die, I'd say +"My father, not this youth." + +BELARIUS, [aside] O, noble strain! +O, worthiness of nature, breed of greatness! +Cowards father cowards and base things sire base; +Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. +I'm not their father, yet who this should be +Doth miracle itself, loved before me.-- +'Tis the ninth hour o' th' morn. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal, to Fidele] Brother, farewell. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +I wish you sport. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] You health.--So please you, sir. + +IMOGEN, [aside] +These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard! +Our courtiers say all's savage but at court; +Experience, O, thou disprov'st report! +Th' imperious seas breeds monsters; for the dish +Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. +I am sick still, heart-sick. Pisanio, +I'll now taste of thy drug. [She swallows the drug.] + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor, to Morgan and Cadwal] +I could not stir him. +He said he was gentle but unfortunate, +Dishonestly afflicted but yet honest. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +Thus did he answer me, yet said hereafter +I might know more. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] To th' field, to th' field! +[To Fidele.] We'll leave you for this time. Go in and +rest. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +We'll not be long away. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Pray, be not sick, +For you must be our huswife. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] Well or ill, +I am bound to you. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] And shalt be ever. +[Imogen exits as into the cave.] +This youth, howe'er distressed, appears he hath had +Good ancestors. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] How angel-like he sings! + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters +And sauced our broths as Juno had been sick +And he her dieter. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Nobly he yokes +A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh +Was that it was for not being such a smile, +The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly +From so divine a temple to commix +With winds that sailors rail at. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] I do note +That grief and patience, rooted in them both, +Mingle their spurs together. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Grow, patience, +And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine +His perishing root with the increasing vine! + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +It is great morning. Come, away. Who's there? + +[Enter Cloten.] + + +CLOTEN, [to himself] +I cannot find those runagates. That villain +Hath mocked me. I am faint. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan, to Polydor and Cadwal] +"Those runagates"? +Means he not us? I partly know him. 'Tis +Cloten, the son o' th' Queen. I fear some ambush. +I saw him not these many years, and yet +I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +He is but one. You and my brother search +What companies are near. Pray you, away. +Let me alone with him. [Belarius and Arviragus exit.] + +CLOTEN Soft, what are you +That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers? +I have heard of such.--What slave art thou? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] A thing +More slavish did I ne'er than answering +A slave without a knock. + +CLOTEN Thou art a robber, +A lawbreaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +To who? To thee? What art thou? Have not I +An arm as big as thine? A heart as big? +Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not +My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art, +Why I should yield to thee. + +CLOTEN Thou villain base, +Know'st me not by my clothes? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] No, nor thy tailor, +rascal. +Who is thy grandfather? He made those clothes, +Which, as it seems, make thee. + +CLOTEN Thou precious varlet, +My tailor made them not. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Hence then, and thank +The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool. +I am loath to beat thee. + +CLOTEN Thou injurious thief, +Hear but my name, and tremble. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] What's thy name? + +CLOTEN Cloten, thou villain. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, +I cannot tremble at it. Were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, +'Twould move me sooner. + +CLOTEN To thy further fear, +Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know +I am son to th' Queen. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] I am sorry for 't, not seeming +So worthy as thy birth. + +CLOTEN Art not afeard? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Those that I reverence, those I fear--the wise; +At fools I laugh, not fear them. + +CLOTEN Die the death! +When I have slain thee with my proper hand, +I'll follow those that even now fled hence +And on the gates of Lud's Town set your heads. +Yield, rustic mountaineer! +[They fight and exit.] + +[Enter Belarius as Morgan and Arviragus as +Cadwal.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] No company's abroad? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +None in the world. You did mistake him sure. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +I cannot tell. Long is it since I saw him, +But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favor +Which then he wore. The snatches in his voice +And burst of speaking were as his. I am absolute +'Twas very Cloten. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] In this place we left them. +I wish my brother make good time with him, +You say he is so fell. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Being scarce made up, +I mean to man, he had not apprehension +Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgment +Is oft the cause of fear. + +[Enter Guiderius as Polydor, carrying Cloten's head.] + +But see, thy brother. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse; +There was no money in 't. Not Hercules +Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none. +Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne +My head as I do his. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] What hast thou done? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head, +Son to the Queen, after his own report, +Who called me traitor mountaineer, and swore +With his own single hand he'd take us in, +Displace our heads where, thank the gods, they +grow, +And set them on Lud's Town. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] We are all undone. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Why, worthy father, what have we to lose +But that he swore to take, our lives? The law +Protects not us. Then why should we be tender +To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us, +Play judge and executioner all himself, +For we do fear the law? What company +Discover you abroad? + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] No single soul +Can we set eye on, but in all safe reason +He must have some attendants. Though his humor +Was nothing but mutation--ay, and that +From one bad thing to worse--not frenzy, +Not absolute madness could so far have raved +To bring him here alone. Although perhaps +It may be heard at court that such as we +Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time +May make some stronger head, the which he +hearing-- +As it is like him--might break out and swear +He'd fetch us in, yet is 't not probable +To come alone, either he so undertaking +Or they so suffering. Then on good ground we fear, +If we do fear this body hath a tail +More perilous than the head. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Let ord'nance +Come as the gods foresay it. Howsoe'er, +My brother hath done well. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] I had no mind +To hunt this day. The boy Fidele's sickness +Did make my way long forth. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] With his own sword, +Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en +His head from him. I'll throw 't into the creek +Behind our rock, and let it to the sea +And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten. +That's all I reck. [He exits.] + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] I fear 'twill be revenged. +Would, Polydor, thou hadst not done 't, though valor +Becomes thee well enough. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Would I had done 't, +So the revenge alone pursued me. Polydor, +I love thee brotherly, but envy much +Thou hast robbed me of this deed. I would revenges +That possible strength might meet would seek us +through +And put us to our answer. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Well, 'tis done. +We'll hunt no more today, nor seek for danger +Where there's no profit. I prithee, to our rock. +You and Fidele play the cooks. I'll stay +Till hasty Polydor return, and bring him +To dinner presently. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Poor sick Fidele. +I'll willingly to him. To gain his color +I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, +And praise myself for charity. [He exits.] + +BELARIUS O thou goddess, +Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazon'st +In these two princely boys! They are as gentle +As zephyrs blowing below the violet, +Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough, +Their royal blood enchafed, as the rud'st wind +That by the top doth take the mountain pine +And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonder +That an invisible instinct should frame them +To royalty unlearned, honor untaught, +Civility not seen from other, valor +That wildly grows in them but yields a crop +As if it had been sowed. Yet still it's strange +What Cloten's being here to us portends, +Or what his death will bring us. + +[Enter Guiderius as Polydor.] + + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Where's my brother? +I have sent Cloten's clotpole down the stream +In embassy to his mother. His body's hostage +For his return. [Solemn music.] + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] My ingenious instrument! +Hark, Polydor, it sounds! But what occasion +Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Is he at home? + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] He went hence even now. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st +mother +It did not speak before. All solemn things +Should answer solemn accidents. The matter? +Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys +Is jollity for apes and grief for boys. +Is Cadwal mad? + +[Enter Arviragus as Cadwal, with Imogen as dead, +bearing her in his arms.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Look, here he comes, +And brings the dire occasion in his arms +Of what we blame him for. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] The bird is dead +That we have made so much on. I had rather +Have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty, +To have turned my leaping time into a crutch, +Than have seen this. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] O sweetest, fairest lily! +My brother wears thee not the one half so well +As when thou grew'st thyself. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] O melancholy, +Whoever yet could sound thy bottom, find +The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare +Might eas'liest harbor in?--Thou blessed thing, +Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I, +Thou died'st, a most rare boy, of melancholy.-- +How found you him? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Stark, as you see; +Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, +Not as Death's dart being laughed at; his right cheek +Reposing on a cushion. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Where? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] O' th' floor, +His arms thus leagued. I thought he slept, and put +My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness +Answered my steps too loud. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Why, he but sleeps. +If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed; +With female fairies will his tomb be haunted-- +And worms will not come to thee. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] With fairest flowers, +Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, +I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack +The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor +The azured harebell, like thy veins; no, nor +The leaf of eglantine whom, not to slander, +Out-sweetened not thy breath. The ruddock would +With charitable bill--O bill, sore shaming +Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie +Without a monument--bring thee all this, +Yea, and furred moss besides, when flowers are none +To winter-ground thy corse. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Prithee, have done, +And do not play in wench-like words with that +Which is so serious. Let us bury him +And not protract with admiration what +Is now due debt. To th' grave. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Say, where shall 's lay +him? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +By good Euriphile, our mother. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Be 't so. +And let us, Polydor, though now our voices +Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th' ground +As once to our mother; use like note and words, +Save that "Euriphile" must be "Fidele." + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Cadwal, +I cannot sing. I'll weep, and word it with thee, +For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse +Than priests and fanes that lie. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] We'll speak it then. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Great griefs, I see, med'cine the less, for Cloten +Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys, +And though he came our enemy, remember +He was paid for that. Though mean and mighty, +Rotting together, have one dust, yet reverence, +That angel of the world, doth make distinction +Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely, +And though you took his life as being our foe, +Yet bury him as a prince. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor, to Morgan] Pray you fetch him +hither. +Thersites' body is as good as Ajax' +When neither are alive. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal, to Morgan] If you'll go fetch +him, +We'll say our song the whilst.--Brother, begin. +[Belarius exits.] + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' east; +My father hath a reason for 't. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] 'Tis true. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +Come on then, and remove him. +[They move Imogen's body.] + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] So, begin. + +Song. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] + Fear no more the heat o' th' sun, + Nor the furious winter's rages; + Thou thy worldly task hast done, + Home art gone and ta'en thy wages. + Golden lads and girls all must, + As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] + Fear no more the frown o' th' great; + Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. + Care no more to clothe and eat; + To thee the reed is as the oak. + The scepter, learning, physic must + All follow this and come to dust. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] + Fear no more the lightning flash. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] + Nor th' all-dreaded thunderstone. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] + Fear not slander, censure rash; + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] + Thou hast finished joy and moan. + +BOTH All lovers young, all lovers must + Consign to thee and come to dust. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] + No exorciser harm thee, + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] + Nor no witchcraft charm thee. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] + Ghost unlaid forbear thee. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] + Nothing ill come near thee. + +BOTH Quiet consummation have, + And renowned be thy grave. + +[Enter Belarius as Morgan, with the body of Cloten.] + + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down. +[Cloten's body is placed by Imogen's.] + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Here's a few flowers, but 'bout midnight more. +The herbs that have on them cold dew o' th' night +Are strewings fitt'st for graves. Upon their faces.-- +You were as flowers, now withered. Even so +These herblets shall, which we upon you strew.-- +Come on, away; apart upon our knees. +The ground that gave them first has them again. +Their pleasures here are past; so is their pain. +[They exit.] + +[Imogen awakes.] + + + +IMOGEN +Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way? +I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither? +Ods pittikins, can it be six mile yet? +I have gone all night. Faith, I'll lie down and sleep. +[She sees Cloten's headless body.] +But soft! No bedfellow? O gods and goddesses! +These flowers are like the pleasures of the world, +This bloody man the care on 't. I hope I dream, +For so I thought I was a cave-keeper +And cook to honest creatures. But 'tis not so. +'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, +Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes +Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Good faith, +I tremble still with fear; but if there be +Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity +As a wren's eye, feared gods, a part of it! +The dream's here still. Even when I wake it is +Without me as within me, not imagined, felt. +A headless man? The garments of Posthumus? +I know the shape of 's leg. This is his hand, +His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh, +The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face-- +Murder in heaven! How? 'Tis gone. Pisanio, +All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks, +And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou, +Conspired with that irregulous devil Cloten, +Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read +Be henceforth treacherous. Damned Pisanio +Hath with his forged letters--damned Pisanio-- +From this most bravest vessel of the world +Struck the maintop. O Posthumus, alas, +Where is thy head? Where's that? Ay me, where's that? +Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart +And left this head on. How should this be? Pisanio? +'Tis he and Cloten. Malice and lucre in them +Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant! +The drug he gave me, which he said was precious +And cordial to me, have I not found it +Murd'rous to th' senses? That confirms it home. +This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten. O, +Give color to my pale cheek with thy blood, +That we the horrider may seem to those +Which chance to find us. O my lord! My lord! + +[Enter Lucius, Captains, Soldiers, and a Soothsayer.] + + +CAPTAIN +To them the legions garrisoned in Gallia, +After your will, have crossed the sea, attending +You here at Milford Haven with your ships. +They are here in readiness. + +LUCIUS But what from Rome? + +CAPTAIN +The Senate hath stirred up the confiners +And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits +That promise noble service, and they come +Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, +Siena's brother. + +LUCIUS When expect you them? + +CAPTAIN +With the next benefit o' th' wind. + +LUCIUS This forwardness +Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers +Be mustered; bid the Captains look to 't.--Now, sir, +What have you dreamed of late of this war's purpose? + +SOOTHSAYER +Last night the very gods showed me a vision-- +I fast and prayed for their intelligence--thus: +I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, winged +From the spongy south to this part of the west, +There vanished in the sunbeams, which portends-- +Unless my sins abuse my divination-- +Success to th' Roman host. + +LUCIUS Dream often so, +And never false.--Soft, ho, what trunk is here +Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime +It was a worthy building. How, a page? +Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead rather, +For nature doth abhor to make his bed +With the defunct or sleep upon the dead. +Let's see the boy's face. + +CAPTAIN He's alive, my lord. + +LUCIUS +He'll then instruct us of this body.--Young one, +Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems +They crave to be demanded. Who is this +Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he +That, otherwise than noble nature did, +Hath altered that good picture? What's thy interest +In this sad wrack? How came 't? Who is 't? +What art thou? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] I am nothing; or if not, +Nothing to be were better. This was my master, +A very valiant Briton, and a good, +That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas, +There is no more such masters. I may wander +From east to occident, cry out for service, +Try many, all good, serve truly, never +Find such another master. + + +LUCIUS 'Lack, good youth, +Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than +Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +Richard du Champ. [Aside.] If I do lie and do +No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope +They'll pardon it.--Say you, sir? + +LUCIUS Thy name? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] Fidele, sir. + +LUCIUS +Thou dost approve thyself the very same; +Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name. +Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say +Thou shalt be so well mastered, but be sure +No less beloved. The Roman Emperor's letters +Sent by a consul to me should not sooner +Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +I'll follow, sir. But first, an 't please the gods, +I'll hide my master from the flies as deep +As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when +With wild-wood leaves and weeds I ha' strewed his +grave +And on it said a century of prayers, +Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh, +And leaving so his service, follow you, +So please you entertain me. + +LUCIUS Ay, good youth, +And rather father thee than master thee.--My friends, +The boy hath taught us manly duties. Let us +Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can, +And make him with our pikes and partisans +A grave. Come, arm him.--Boy, he's preferred +By thee to us, and he shall be interred +As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes. +Some falls are means the happier to arise. +[They exit, the Soldiers carrying Cloten's body.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cymbeline, Lords, Pisanio, and Attendants.] + + +CYMBELINE +Again, and bring me word how 'tis with her. +[An Attendant exits.] +A fever, with the absence of her son; +A madness, of which her life's in danger. Heavens, +How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, +The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen +Upon a desperate bed, and in a time +When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, +So needful for this present. It strikes me past +The hope of comfort.--But for thee, fellow, +Who needs must know of her departure and +Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee +By a sharp torture. + +PISANIO Sir, my life is yours. +I humbly set it at your will. But for my mistress, +I nothing know where she remains, why gone, +Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your +Highness, +Hold me your loyal servant. + +LORD Good my liege, +The day that she was missing, he was here. +I dare be bound he's true and shall perform +All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten, +There wants no diligence in seeking him, +And will no doubt be found. + +CYMBELINE The time is troublesome. +[To Pisanio.] We'll slip you for a season, but our jealousy +Does yet depend. + +LORD So please your Majesty, +The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, +Are landed on your coast with a supply +Of Roman gentlemen by the Senate sent. + +CYMBELINE +Now for the counsel of my son and queen! +I am amazed with matter. + +LORD Good my liege, +Your preparation can affront no less +Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you're +ready. +The want is but to put those powers in motion +That long to move. + +CYMBELINE I thank you. Let's withdraw, +And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not +What can from Italy annoy us, but +We grieve at chances here. Away. +[They exit. Pisanio remains.] + +PISANIO +I heard no letter from my master since +I wrote him Imogen was slain. 'Tis strange. +Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise +To yield me often tidings. Neither know I +What is betid to Cloten, but remain +Perplexed in all. The heavens still must work. +Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true. +These present wars shall find I love my country, +Even to the note o' th' King, or I'll fall in them. +All other doubts, by time let them be cleared. +Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Belarius as Morgan, Guiderius as Polydor, +and Arviragus as Cadwal.] + + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +The noise is round about us. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Let us from it. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] +What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it +From action and adventure? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Nay, what hope +Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans +Must or for Britons slay us or receive us +For barbarous and unnatural revolts +During their use, and slay us after. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Sons, +We'll higher to the mountains, there secure us. +To the King's party there's no going. Newness +Of Cloten's death--we being not known, not mustered +Among the bands--may drive us to a render +Where we have lived, and so extort from 's that +Which we have done, whose answer would be death +Drawn on with torture. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] This is, sir, a doubt +In such a time nothing becoming you +Nor satisfying us. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] It is not likely +That when they hear the Roman horses neigh, +Behold their quartered fires, have both their eyes +And ears so cloyed importantly as now, +That they will waste their time upon our note, +To know from whence we are. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] O, I am known +Of many in the army. Many years, +Though Cloten then but young, you see not wore him +From my remembrance. And besides, the King +Hath not deserved my service nor your loves, +Who find in my exile the want of breeding, +The certainty of this hard life, aye hopeless +To have the courtesy your cradle promised, +But to be still hot summer's tanlings and +The shrinking slaves of winter. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Than be so +Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th' army. +I and my brother are not known; yourself +So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown, +Cannot be questioned. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] By this sun that shines, +I'll thither. What thing is 't that I never +Did see man die, scarce ever looked on blood +But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison! +Never bestrid a horse save one that had +A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel +Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed +To look upon the holy sun, to have +The benefit of his blest beams, remaining +So long a poor unknown. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] By heavens, I'll go! +If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave, +I'll take the better care, but if you will not, +The hazard therefore due fall on me by +The hands of Romans. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] So say I. Amen. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +No reason I--since of your lives you set +So slight a valuation--should reserve +My cracked one to more care. Have with you, boys! +If in your country wars you chance to die, +That is my bed, too, lads, and there I'll lie. +Lead, lead. [Aside.] The time seems long; their +blood thinks scorn +Till it fly out and show them princes born. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Posthumus alone, wearing Roman garments and +carrying a bloody cloth.] + + +POSTHUMUS +Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee, for I wished +Thou shouldst be colored thus. You married ones, +If each of you should take this course, how many +Must murder wives much better than themselves +For wrying but a little! O Pisanio, +Every good servant does not all commands; +No bond but to do just ones. Gods, if you +Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never +Had lived to put on this; so had you saved +The noble Imogen to repent, and struck +Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But, alack, +You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love, +To have them fall no more; you some permit +To second ills with ills, each elder worse, +And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift. +But Imogen is your own. Do your best wills, +And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither +Among th' Italian gentry, and to fight +Against my lady's kingdom. 'Tis enough +That, Britain, I have killed thy mistress. Peace, +I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens, +Hear patiently my purpose. I'll disrobe me +Of these Italian weeds and suit myself +As does a Briton peasant. So I'll fight +Against the part I come with; so I'll die +For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life +Is every breath a death. And thus, unknown, +Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril +Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know +More valor in me than my habits show. +Gods, put the strength o' th' Leonati in me. +To shame the guise o' th' world, I will begin +The fashion: less without and more within. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman army at one +door, and the Briton army at another, Leonatus Posthumus +following like a poor soldier. They march over and +go out. Then enter again, in skirmish, Iachimo and +Posthumus. He vanquisheth and disarmeth Iachimo, +and then leaves him.] + + +IACHIMO +The heaviness and guilt within my bosom +Takes off my manhood. I have belied a lady, +The Princess of this country, and the air on 't +Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl, +A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me +In my profession? Knighthoods and honors, borne +As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. +If that thy gentry, Britain, go before +This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds +Is that we scarce are men and you are gods. +[He exits.] + +[The battle continues. The Britons fly; Cymbeline is +taken. Then enter, to his rescue, Belarius as Morgan, +Guiderius as Polydor, and Arviragus as Cadwal.] + + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Stand, stand! We have th' advantage of the ground. +The lane is guarded. Nothing routs us but +The villainy of our fears. + +GUIDERIUS, as Polydor, and ARVIRAGUS, as Cadwal Stand, stand, and fight! + +[Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons. They rescue +Cymbeline and exit. Then enter Lucius, Iachimo, and +Imogen as Fidele.] + + +LUCIUS, [to Fidele] +Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself, +For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such +As war were hoodwinked. + +IACHIMO 'Tis their fresh supplies. + +LUCIUS +It is a day turned strangely. Or betimes +Let's reinforce, or fly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Posthumus and a Briton Lord.] + + +LORD +Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? + +POSTHUMUS I did, +Though you, it seems, come from the fliers. + +LORD Ay. + +POSTHUMUS +No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost, +But that the heavens fought. The King himself +Of his wings destitute, the army broken, +And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying +Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted, +Lolling the tongue with slaught'ring, having work +More plentiful than tools to do 't, struck down +Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling +Merely through fear, that the strait pass was dammed +With dead men hurt behind and cowards living +To die with lengthened shame. + +LORD Where was this lane? + +POSTHUMUS +Close by the battle, ditched, and walled with turf; +Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier, +An honest one, I warrant, who deserved +So long a breeding as his white beard came to, +In doing this for 's country. Athwart the lane, +He with two striplings--lads more like to run +The country base than to commit such slaughter, +With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer +Than those for preservation cased or shame-- +Made good the passage, cried to those that fled +"Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men. +To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand, +Or we are Romans and will give you that +Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save +But to look back in frown. Stand, stand!" These three, +Three thousand confident, in act as many-- +For three performers are the file when all +The rest do nothing--with this word "Stand, stand," +Accommodated by the place, more charming +With their own nobleness, which could have turned +A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks, +Part shame, part spirit renewed; that some, turned +coward +But by example--O, a sin in war, +Damned in the first beginners!--gan to look +The way that they did and to grin like lions +Upon the pikes o' th' hunters. Then began +A stop i' th' chaser, a retire; anon +A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith they fly +Chickens the way which they stooped eagles; slaves +The strides they victors made; and now our +cowards, +Like fragments in hard voyages, became +The life o' th' need. Having found the backdoor open +Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound! +Some slain before, some dying, some their friends +O'erborne i' th' former wave, ten chased by one, +Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty. +Those that would die or ere resist are grown +The mortal bugs o' th' field. + +LORD This was strange chance: +A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys. + +POSTHUMUS +Nay, do not wonder at it. You are made +Rather to wonder at the things you hear +Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon 't +And vent it for a mock'ry? Here is one: +"Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane, +Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane." + +LORD +Nay, be not angry, sir. + +POSTHUMUS 'Lack, to what end? +Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend; +For if he'll do as he is made to do, +I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too. +You have put me into rhyme. + +LORD Farewell. You're angry. +[He exits.] + +POSTHUMUS +Still going? This is a lord! O noble misery, +To be i' th' field and ask "What news?" of me! +Today how many would have given their honors +To have saved their carcasses, took heel to do 't, +And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charmed, +Could not find Death where I did hear him groan, +Nor feel him where he struck. Being an ugly monster, +'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, +Sweet words, or hath more ministers than we +That draw his knives i' th' war. Well, I will find him; +For being now a favorer to the Briton, +No more a Briton. [(He removes his peasant +costume.)] I have resumed again +The part I came in. Fight I will no more, +But yield me to the veriest hind that shall +Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is +Here made by th' Roman; great the answer be +Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death. +On either side I come to spend my breath, +Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again, +But end it by some means for Imogen. + +[Enter two Briton Captains, and Soldiers.] + + +FIRST CAPTAIN +Great Jupiter be praised, Lucius is taken! +'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels. + +SECOND CAPTAIN +There was a fourth man in a silly habit +That gave th' affront with them. + +FIRST CAPTAIN So 'tis reported, +But none of 'em can be found.--Stand. Who's there? + +POSTHUMUS A Roman, +Who had not now been drooping here if seconds +Had answered him. + +SECOND CAPTAIN Lay hands on him. A dog, +A leg of Rome shall not return to tell +What crows have pecked them here. He brags his +service +As if he were of note. Bring him to th' King. + +[Enter Cymbeline, Attendants, Belarius as Morgan, +Guiderius as Polydor, Arviragus as Cadwal, Pisanio, +Soldiers, and Roman captives. The Captains present +Posthumus to Cymbeline, who delivers him over to a +Jailer.] +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Posthumus in chains, and two Jailers.] + + +JAILER +You shall not now be stol'n; you have locks upon you. +So graze as you find pasture. + +SECOND JAILER Ay, or a stomach. +[Jailers exit.] + +POSTHUMUS +Most welcome, bondage, for thou art a way, +I think, to liberty. Yet am I better +Than one that's sick o' th' gout, since he had rather +Groan so in perpetuity than be cured +By th' sure physician, Death, who is the key +T' unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fettered +More than my shanks and wrists. You good gods, +give me +The penitent instrument to pick that bolt, +Then free forever. Is 't enough I am sorry? +So children temporal fathers do appease; +Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent, +I cannot do it better than in gyves, +Desired more than constrained. To satisfy, +If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take +No stricter render of me than my all. +I know you are more clement than vile men, +Who of their broken debtors take a third, +A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again +On their abatement. That's not my desire. +For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though +'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coined it. +'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp; +Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake; +You rather mine, being yours. And so, great powers, +If you will take this audit, take this life +And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen, +I'll speak to thee in silence. [He lies down and sleeps.] + +[Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, Sicilius +Leonatus, father to Posthumus, an old man attired like +a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient matron, his +wife and mother to Posthumus, with music before +them. Then, after other music, follows the two young +Leonati, brothers to Posthumus, with wounds as they +died in the wars. They circle Posthumus round as he +lies sleeping.] + + +SICILIUS +No more, thou Thunder-master, show + Thy spite on mortal flies. +With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, + That thy adulteries + Rates and revenges. +Hath my poor boy done aught but well, + Whose face I never saw? +I died whilst in the womb he stayed, + Attending nature's law; +Whose father then--as men report + Thou orphans' father art-- +Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him + From this earth-vexing smart. + +MOTHER +Lucina lent not me her aid, + But took me in my throes, +That from me was Posthumus ripped, + Came crying 'mongst his foes, + A thing of pity. + +SICILIUS +Great Nature, like his ancestry, + Molded the stuff so fair +That he deserved the praise o' th' world + As great Sicilius' heir. + +FIRST BROTHER +When once he was mature for man, + In Britain where was he +That could stand up his parallel + Or fruitful object be +In eye of Imogen, that best + Could deem his dignity? + +MOTHER +With marriage wherefore was he mocked, + To be exiled and thrown +From Leonati seat, and cast + From her, his dearest one, + Sweet Imogen? + +SICILIUS +Why did you suffer Iachimo, + Slight thing of Italy, +To taint his nobler heart and brain + With needless jealousy, +And to become the geck and scorn + O' th' other's villainy? + +SECOND BROTHER +For this, from stiller seats we came, + Our parents and us twain, +That striking in our country's cause + Fell bravely and were slain, +Our fealty and Tenantius' right + With honor to maintain. + +FIRST BROTHER +Like hardiment Posthumus hath + To Cymbeline performed. +Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, + Why hast thou thus adjourned +The graces for his merits due, + Being all to dolors turned? + +SICILIUS +Thy crystal window ope; look out. + No longer exercise +Upon a valiant race thy harsh + And potent injuries. + +MOTHER +Since, Jupiter, our son is good, + Take off his miseries. + +SICILIUS +Peep through thy marble mansion. Help, + Or we poor ghosts will cry +To th' shining synod of the rest + Against thy deity. + +BROTHERS +Help, Jupiter, or we appeal + And from thy justice fly. + +[Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon +an eagle. He throws a thunderbolt. The Ghosts fall on +their knees.] + + +JUPITER +No more, you petty spirits of region low, + Offend our hearing! Hush. How dare you ghosts +Accuse the Thunderer, whose bolt, you know, + Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts. +Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest + Upon your never-withering banks of flowers. +Be not with mortal accidents oppressed. + No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours. +Whom best I love I cross, to make my gift, + The more delayed, delighted. Be content. +Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift. + His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. +Our Jovial star reigned at his birth, and in + Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade. +He shall be lord of Lady Imogen, + And happier much by his affliction made. +[He hands Sicilius a tablet.] +This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein + Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine. +And so away. No farther with your din + Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.-- +Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends.] + +SICILIUS +He came in thunder. His celestial breath +Was sulphurous to smell. The holy eagle +Stooped as to foot us. His ascension is +More sweet than our blest fields; his royal bird +Preens the immortal wing and cloys his beak, +As when his god is pleased. + +ALL Thanks, Jupiter. + +SICILIUS +The marble pavement closes; he is entered +His radiant roof. Away, and, to be blest, +Let us with care perform his great behest. +[He places the tablet on Posthumus' breast. They vanish.] + +POSTHUMUS, [waking] +Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire and begot +A father to me, and thou hast created +A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn, +Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born. +And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend +On greatness' favor dream as I have done, +Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve. +Many dream not to find, neither deserve, +And yet are steeped in favors; so am I +That have this golden chance and know not why. +[Finding the tablet.] +What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one, +Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment +Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects +So follow, to be, most unlike our courtiers, +As good as promise. +[Reads.] +Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, +without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of +tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be +lopped branches which, being dead many years, shall +after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly +grow, then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain +be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty. +'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen +Tongue and brain not; either both or nothing, +Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such +As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, +The action of my life is like it, which +I'll keep, if but for sympathy. + +[Enter Jailer.] + + +JAILER Come, sir, are you ready for death? + +POSTHUMUS Over-roasted rather; ready long ago. + +JAILER Hanging is the word, sir. If you be ready for +that, you are well cooked. + +POSTHUMUS So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, +the dish pays the shot. + +JAILER A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort +is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear +no more tavern bills, which are often the sadness +of parting as the procuring of mirth. You come in +faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too +much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, +and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and +brain both empty; the brain the heavier for being +too light; the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness. +O, of this contradiction you shall now be +quit. O, the charity of a penny cord! It sums up +thousands in a trice. You have no true debitor and +creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the +discharge. Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; +so the acquittance follows. + +POSTHUMUS I am merrier to die than thou art to live. + +JAILER Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the +toothache. But a man that were to sleep your +sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think +he would change places with his officer; for, look +you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. + +POSTHUMUS Yes, indeed do I, fellow. + +JAILER Your Death has eyes in 's head, then. I have not +seen him so pictured. You must either be directed +by some that take upon them to know, or to take +upon yourself that which I am sure you do not +know, or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril. +And how you shall speed in your journey's end, I +think you'll never return to tell one. + +POSTHUMUS I tell thee, fellow, there are none want +eyes to direct them the way I am going but such as +wink and will not use them. + +JAILER What an infinite mock is this, that a man +should have the best use of eyes to see the way of +blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner +to the King. + +POSTHUMUS Thou bring'st good news. I am called to be +made free. + +JAILER I'll be hanged then. +[He removes Posthumus's chains.] + +POSTHUMUS Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer. No +bolts for the dead. [All but the Jailer exit.] + +JAILER Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget +young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my +conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, +for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them +too that die against their wills. So should I, if I +were one. I would we were all of one mind, and +one mind good. O, there were desolation of jailers +and gallowses! I speak against my present profit, +but my wish hath a preferment in 't. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Cymbeline, Belarius as Morgan, Guiderius as +Polydor, Arviragus as Cadwal, Pisanio, Attendants, +and Lords.] + + +CYMBELINE, [to Morgan, Polydor, and Cadwal] +Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made +Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart +That the poor soldier that so richly fought, +Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast +Stepped before targes of proof, cannot be found. +He shall be happy that can find him, if +Our grace can make him so. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] I never saw +Such noble fury in so poor a thing, +Such precious deeds in one that promised naught +But beggary and poor looks. + +CYMBELINE No tidings of him? + +PISANIO +He hath been searched among the dead and living, +But no trace of him. + +CYMBELINE, [to Morgan, Polydor, and Cadwal] +To my grief, I am +The heir of his reward, which I will add +To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, +By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time +To ask of whence you are. Report it. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Sir, +In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen. +Further to boast were neither true nor modest, +Unless I add we are honest. + +CYMBELINE Bow your knees. +[They kneel. He taps their shoulders with his sword.] +Arise my knights o' th' battle. I create you +Companions to our person, and will fit you +With dignities becoming your estates. [They rise.] + +[Enter Cornelius and Ladies.] + +There's business in these faces. Why so sadly +Greet you our victory? You look like Romans, +And not o' th' court of Britain. + +CORNELIUS Hail, great king. +To sour your happiness I must report +The Queen is dead. + +CYMBELINE Who worse than a physician +Would this report become? But I consider +By med'cine life may be prolonged, yet death +Will seize the doctor too. How ended she? + +CORNELIUS +With horror, madly dying, like her life, +Which, being cruel to the world, concluded +Most cruel to herself. What she confessed +I will report, so please you. These her women +Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks +Were present when she finished. + +CYMBELINE Prithee, say. + +CORNELIUS +First, she confessed she never loved you, only +Affected greatness got by you, not you; +Married your royalty, was wife to your place, +Abhorred your person. + +CYMBELINE She alone knew this, +And but she spoke it dying, I would not +Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. + +CORNELIUS +Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love +With such integrity, she did confess +Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life, +But that her flight prevented it, she had +Ta'en off by poison. + +CYMBELINE O, most delicate fiend! +Who is 't can read a woman? Is there more? + +CORNELIUS +More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had +For you a mortal mineral which, being took, +Should by the minute feed on life and, ling'ring, +By inches waste you. In which time she purposed, +By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to +O'ercome you with her show and, in time, +When she had fitted you with her craft, to work +Her son into th' adoption of the crown; +But failing of her end by his strange absence, +Grew shameless desperate; opened, in despite +Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented +The evils she hatched were not effected; so +Despairing died. + +CYMBELINE Heard you all this, her women? + +LADIES We did, so please your Highness. + +CYMBELINE Mine eyes +Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; +Mine ears that heard her flattery; nor my heart, +That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious +To have mistrusted her. Yet, O my daughter, +That it was folly in me thou mayst say, +And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all. + +[Enter Lucius, Iachimo, Soothsayer, and other Roman +prisoners, Posthumus Leonatus behind, and Imogen +as Fidele, with Briton Soldiers as guards.] + +Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute. That +The Britons have razed out, though with the loss +Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit +That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter +Of you their captives, which ourself have granted. +So think of your estate. + +LUCIUS +Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day +Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us, +We should not, when the blood was cool, have +threatened +Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods +Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives +May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth +A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer. +Augustus lives to think on 't; and so much +For my peculiar care. This one thing only +I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born, +Let him be ransomed. Never master had +A page so kind, so duteous, diligent, +So tender over his occasions, true, +So feat, so nurselike. Let his virtue join +With my request, which I'll make bold your Highness +Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm, +Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir, +And spare no blood beside. + +CYMBELINE I have surely seen him. +His favor is familiar to me.--Boy, +Thou hast looked thyself into my grace +And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore, +To say "Live, boy." Ne'er thank thy master. Live, +And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, +Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it, +Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner, +The noblest ta'en. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] I humbly thank your Highness. + +LUCIUS +I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad, +And yet I know thou wilt. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] No, no, alack, +There's other work in hand. I see a thing +Bitter to me as death. Your life, good master, +Must shuffle for itself. + +LUCIUS The boy disdains me, +He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys +That place them on the truth of girls and boys. +Why stands he so perplexed? +[Imogen stares at Iachimo.] + +CYMBELINE What would'st thou, boy? +I love thee more and more. Think more and more +What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? +Speak. +Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? Thy friend? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +He is a Roman, no more kin to me +Than I to your Highness, who, being born your vassal, +Am something nearer. + +CYMBELINE Wherefore ey'st him so? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please +To give me hearing. + +CYMBELINE Ay, with all my heart, +And lend my best attention. What's thy name? + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele] +Fidele, sir. + +CYMBELINE Thou 'rt my good youth, my page. +I'll be thy master. Walk with me. Speak freely. +[Cymbeline and Imogen walk aside and talk.] + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Is not this boy revived from death? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] One sand another +Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad +Who died, and was Fidele. What think you? + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] The same dead thing alive. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Peace, peace. See further. He eyes us not. Forbear. +Creatures may be alike. Were 't he, I am sure +He would have spoke to us. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] But we see him dead. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] +Be silent. Let's see further. + +PISANIO, [aside] It is my mistress! +Since she is living, let the time run on +To good or bad. +[Cymbeline and Imogen come forward.] + +CYMBELINE, [to Imogen] Come, stand thou by our side. +Make thy demand aloud. [(To Iachimo.)] Sir, step +you forth. +Give answer to this boy, and do it freely, +Or by our greatness and the grace of it, +Which is our honor, bitter torture shall +Winnow the truth from falsehood.--On. Speak to +him. + +IMOGEN, [as Fidele, pointing to Iachimo's hand] +My boon is that this gentleman may render +Of whom he had this ring. + +POSTHUMUS, [aside] What's that to him? + +CYMBELINE +That diamond upon your finger, say +How came it yours. + +IACHIMO +Thou 'lt torture me to leave unspoken that +Which to be spoke would torture thee. + +CYMBELINE How? Me? + +IACHIMO +I am glad to be constrained to utter that +Which torments me to conceal. By villainy +I got this ring. 'Twas Leonatus' jewel, +Whom thou didst banish, and--which more may +grieve thee, +As it doth me--a nobler sir ne'er lived +'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord? + +CYMBELINE +All that belongs to this. + +IACHIMO That paragon, thy daughter, +For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits +Quail to remember--Give me leave; I faint. + +CYMBELINE +My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength. +I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will +Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak. + +IACHIMO +Upon a time--unhappy was the clock +That struck the hour!--it was in Rome--accursed +The mansion where!--'twas at a feast--O, would +Our viands had been poisoned, or at least +Those which I heaved to head!--the good +Posthumus-- +What should I say? He was too good to be +Where ill men were, and was the best of all +Amongst the rar'st of good ones--sitting sadly, +Hearing us praise our loves of Italy +For beauty that made barren the swelled boast +Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming +The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva, +Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, +A shop of all the qualities that man +Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving, +Fairness which strikes the eye-- + +CYMBELINE I stand on fire. +Come to the matter. + +IACHIMO All too soon I shall, +Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus, +Most like a noble lord in love and one +That had a royal lover, took his hint, +And, not dispraising whom we praised--therein +He was as calm as virtue--he began +His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made +And then a mind put in 't, either our brags +Were cracked of kitchen trulls, or his description +Proved us unspeaking sots. + +CYMBELINE Nay, nay, to th' purpose. + +IACHIMO +Your daughter's chastity--there it begins. +He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams +And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch, +Made scruple of his praise and wagered with him +Pieces of gold 'gainst this, which then he wore +Upon his honored finger, to attain +In suit the place of 's bed and win this ring +By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight, +No lesser of her honor confident +Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring, +And would so, had it been a carbuncle +Of Phoebus' wheel, and might so safely, had it +Been all the worth of 's car. Away to Britain +Post I in this design. Well may you, sir, +Remember me at court, where I was taught +Of your chaste daughter the wide difference +'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched +Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain +Gan in your duller Britain operate +Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent. +And to be brief, my practice so prevailed +That I returned with simular proof enough +To make the noble Leonatus mad +By wounding his belief in her renown +With tokens thus and thus; averring notes +Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet-- +O, cunning how I got it!--nay, some marks +Of secret on her person, that he could not +But think her bond of chastity quite cracked, +I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon-- +Methinks I see him now-- + +POSTHUMUS, [coming forward] Ay, so thou dost, +Italian fiend.--Ay me, most credulous fool, +Egregious murderer, thief, anything +That's due to all the villains past, in being, +To come. O, give me cord, or knife, or poison, +Some upright justicer.--Thou, king, send out +For torturers ingenious. It is I +That all th' abhorred things o' th' Earth amend +By being worse than they. I am Posthumus, +That killed thy daughter--villainlike, I lie-- +That caused a lesser villain than myself, +A sacrilegious thief, to do 't. The temple +Of virtue was she, yea, and she herself. +Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set +The dogs o' th' street to bay me. Every villain +Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and +Be villainy less than 'twas. O Imogen! +My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, +Imogen, Imogen! + +IMOGEN, [running to Posthumus] Peace, my lord! +Hear, hear-- + +POSTHUMUS +Shall 's have a play of this? Thou scornful page, +There lie thy part. [He pushes her away; she falls.] + +PISANIO O, gentlemen, help!-- +Mine and your mistress! O my lord Posthumus, +You ne'er killed Imogen till now! Help, help! +Mine honored lady-- + +CYMBELINE Does the world go round? + +POSTHUMUS +How comes these staggers on me? + +PISANIO Wake, my mistress. + +CYMBELINE +If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me +To death with mortal joy. + +PISANIO How fares my mistress? + +IMOGEN O, get thee from my sight! +Thou gav'st me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence. +Breathe not where princes are. + +CYMBELINE The tune of Imogen! + +PISANIO +Lady, the gods throw stones of sulfur on me if +That box I gave you was not thought by me +A precious thing. I had it from the Queen. + +CYMBELINE +New matter still. + +IMOGEN It poisoned me. + +CORNELIUS O gods! +[To Pisanio.] I left out one thing which the Queen +confessed, +Which must approve thee honest. "If Pisanio +Have," said she, "given his mistress that confection +Which I gave him for cordial, she is served +As I would serve a rat." + +CYMBELINE What's this, Cornelius? + +CORNELIUS +The Queen, sir, very oft importuned me +To temper poisons for her, still pretending +The satisfaction of her knowledge only +In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs, +Of no esteem. I, dreading that her purpose +Was of more danger, did compound for her +A certain stuff which, being ta'en, would cease +The present power of life, but in short time +All offices of nature should again +Do their due functions.--Have you ta'en of it? + +IMOGEN +Most like I did, for I was dead. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan, aside to Guiderius and Arviragus] My boys, +There was our error. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] This is sure Fidele. + +IMOGEN, [to Posthumus] +Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? +Think that you are upon a rock, and now +Throw me again. [She embraces him.] + +POSTHUMUS Hang there like fruit, my soul, +Till the tree die. + +CYMBELINE, [to Imogen] How now, my flesh, my child? +What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act? +Wilt thou not speak to me? + +IMOGEN, [kneeling] Your blessing, sir. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan, aside to Guiderius and Arviragus] +Though you did love this youth, I blame you not. +You had a motive for 't. + +CYMBELINE, [to Imogen] My tears that fall +Prove holy water on thee. Imogen, +Thy mother's dead. + +IMOGEN I am sorry for 't, my lord. +[She rises.] + +CYMBELINE +O, she was naught, and long of her it was +That we meet here so strangely. But her son +Is gone, we know not how nor where. + +PISANIO My lord, +Now fear is from me, I'll speak truth. Lord Cloten, +Upon my lady's missing, came to me +With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and +swore, +If I discovered not which way she was gone, +It was my instant death. By accident, +I had a feigned letter of my master's +Then in my pocket, which directed him +To seek her on the mountains near to Milford; +Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments, +Which he enforced from me, away he posts +With unchaste purpose and with oath to violate +My lady's honor. What became of him +I further know not. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] Let me end the story. +I slew him there. + +CYMBELINE Marry, the gods forfend! +I would not thy good deeds should from my lips +Pluck a hard sentence. Prithee, valiant youth, +Deny 't again. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] I have spoke it, and I did it. + +CYMBELINE He was a prince. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +A most incivil one. The wrongs he did me +Were nothing princelike, for he did provoke me +With language that would make me spurn the sea +If it could so roar to me. I cut off 's head, +And am right glad he is not standing here +To tell this tale of mine. + +CYMBELINE I am sorrow for thee. +By thine own tongue thou art condemned and must +Endure our law. Thou 'rt dead. + +IMOGEN That headless man +I thought had been my lord. + +CYMBELINE Bind the offender, +And take him from our presence. +[Attendants bind Guiderius.] + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Stay, sir king. +This man is better than the man he slew, +As well descended as thyself, and hath +More of thee merited than a band of Clotens +Had ever scar for.--Let his arms alone. +They were not born for bondage. + +CYMBELINE Why, old soldier, +Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for +By tasting of our wrath? How of descent +As good as we? + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] In that he spake too far. + +CYMBELINE, [to Morgan] +And thou shalt die for 't. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] We will die all three +But I will prove that two on 's are as good +As I have given out him.--My sons, I must +For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech, +Though haply well for you. + +ARVIRAGUS, [as Cadwal] Your danger's ours. + +GUIDERIUS, [as Polydor] +And our good his. + +BELARIUS, [as Morgan] Have at it, then.--By leave, +Thou hadst, great king, a subject who +Was called Belarius. + +CYMBELINE What of him? He is +A banished traitor. + +BELARIUS He it is that hath +Assumed this age; indeed a banished man, +I know not how a traitor. + +CYMBELINE Take him hence. +The whole world shall not save him. + +BELARIUS Not too hot. +First pay me for the nursing of thy sons +And let it be confiscate all, so soon +As I have received it. + +CYMBELINE Nursing of my sons? + +BELARIUS +I am too blunt and saucy. Here's my knee. +[He kneels.] +Ere I arise I will prefer my sons, +Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir, +These two young gentlemen that call me father +And think they are my sons are none of mine. +They are the issue of your loins, my liege, +And blood of your begetting. + +CYMBELINE How? My issue? + +BELARIUS +So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, +Am that Belarius whom you sometime banished. +Your pleasure was my mere offense, my punishment +Itself, and all my treason. That I suffered +Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes-- +For such and so they are--these twenty years +Have I trained up; those arts they have as I +Could put into them. My breeding was, sir, as +Your Highness knows. Their nurse Euriphile, +Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children +Upon my banishment. I moved her to 't, +Having received the punishment before +For that which I did then. Beaten for loyalty +Excited me to treason. Their dear loss, +The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped +Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir, +Here are your sons again, and I must lose +Two of the sweet'st companions in the world. +The benediction of these covering heavens +Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy +To inlay heaven with stars. [He weeps.] + +CYMBELINE Thou weep'st and speak'st. +The service that you three have done is more +Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children. +If these be they, I know not how to wish +A pair of worthier sons. + +BELARIUS Be pleased awhile. +This gentleman whom I call Polydor, +Most worthy prince, as yours is true Guiderius; +This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus, +Your younger princely son. He, sir, was lapped +In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand +Of his queen mother, which for more probation +I can with ease produce. + +CYMBELINE Guiderius had +Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star. +It was a mark of wonder. + +BELARIUS This is he, +Who hath upon him still that natural stamp. +It was wise Nature's end in the donation +To be his evidence now. + +CYMBELINE O, what am I, +A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother +Rejoiced deliverance more.--Blest pray you be, +That after this strange starting from your orbs, +You may reign in them now.--O Imogen, +Thou hast lost by this a kingdom! + +IMOGEN No, my lord. +I have got two worlds by 't.--O my gentle brothers, +Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter +But I am truest speaker. You called me "brother" +When I was but your sister; I you "brothers" +When we were so indeed. + +CYMBELINE Did you e'er meet? + +ARVIRAGUS +Ay, my good lord. + +GUIDERIUS And at first meeting loved, +Continued so until we thought he died. + +CORNELIUS +By the Queen's dram she swallowed. + +CYMBELINE, [to Imogen] O, rare instinct! +When shall I hear all through? This fierce +abridgment +Hath to it circumstantial branches which +Distinction should be rich in. Where, how lived you? +And when came you to serve our Roman captive? +How parted with your brothers? How first met +them? +Why fled you from the court? And whither? +[To Belarius.] These, +And your three motives to the battle, with +I know not how much more, should be demanded, +And all the other by-dependences +From chance to chance; but nor the time nor place +Will serve our long interrogatories. See, +Posthumus anchors upon Imogen; +And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye +On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting +Each object with a joy; the counterchange +Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground, +And smoke the temple with our sacrifices. +Thou art my brother, so we'll hold thee ever. + +IMOGEN, [to Belarius] +You are my father too, and did relieve me +To see this gracious season. + +CYMBELINE All o'erjoyed +Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too, +For they shall taste our comfort. + +IMOGEN, [to Lucius] My good master, +I will yet do you service. + +LUCIUS Happy be you! + +CYMBELINE +The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, +He would have well becomed this place and graced +The thankings of a king. + +POSTHUMUS I am, sir, +The soldier that did company these three +In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for +The purpose I then followed. That I was he, +Speak, Iachimo. I had you down and might +Have made you finish. + +IACHIMO, [kneeling] I am down again, +But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, +As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you, +Which I so often owe; but your ring first, +And here the bracelet of the truest princess +That ever swore her faith. +[He holds out the ring and bracelet.] + +POSTHUMUS Kneel not to me. +The power that I have on you is to spare you; +The malice towards you to forgive you. Live +And deal with others better. + +CYMBELINE Nobly doomed. +We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law: +Pardon's the word to all. [Iachimo rises.] + +ARVIRAGUS, [to Posthumus] You holp us, sir, +As you did mean indeed to be our brother. +Joyed are we that you are. + +POSTHUMUS +Your servant, princes.--Good my lord of Rome, +Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought +Great Jupiter upon his eagle backed +Appeared to me, with other spritely shows +Of mine own kindred. When I waked, I found +This label on my bosom, whose containing +Is so from sense in hardness that I can +Make no collection of it. Let him show +His skill in the construction. + +LUCIUS Philarmonus! + +SOOTHSAYER, [coming forward] +Here, my good lord. + +LUCIUS Read, and declare the meaning. + +SOOTHSAYER [reads.] Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to +himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced +by a piece of tender air; and when from a +stately cedar shall be lopped branches which, being +dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the +old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus +end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish +in peace and plenty. +Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp. +The fit and apt construction of thy name, +Being Leo-natus, doth import so much. +[To Cymbeline.] The piece of tender air thy virtuous +daughter, +Which we call "mollis aer," and "mollis aer" +We term it "mulier," which "mulier" I divine +Is this most constant wife; who, even now, +Answering the letter of the oracle, +[To Posthumus] Unknown to you, unsought, were +clipped about +With this most tender air. + +CYMBELINE This hath some seeming. + +SOOTHSAYER +The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, +Personates thee; and thy lopped branches point +Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stol'n, +For many years thought dead, are now revived, +To the majestic cedar joined, whose issue +Promises Britain peace and plenty. + +CYMBELINE Well, +My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius, +Although the victor, we submit to Caesar +And to the Roman Empire, promising +To pay our wonted tribute, from the which +We were dissuaded by our wicked queen, +Whom heavens in justice both on her and hers +Have laid most heavy hand. + +SOOTHSAYER +The fingers of the powers above do tune +The harmony of this peace. The vision +Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke +Of this yet scarce-cold battle at this instant +Is full accomplished. For the Roman eagle, +From south to west on wing soaring aloft, +Lessened herself and in the beams o' th' sun +So vanished; which foreshowed our princely eagle, +Th' imperial Caesar, should again unite +His favor with the radiant Cymbeline, +Which shines here in the west. + +CYMBELINE Laud we the gods, +And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils +From our blest altars. Publish we this peace +To all our subjects. Set we forward. Let +A Roman and a British ensign wave +Friendly together. So through Lud's Town march, +And in the temple of great Jupiter +Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. +Set on there. Never was a war did cease, +Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/hamlet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/hamlet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6284530 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/hamlet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6080 @@ +Hamlet +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/hamlet/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +THE GHOST +HAMLET, Prince of Denmark, son of the late King Hamlet and Queen Gertrude +QUEEN GERTRUDE, widow of King Hamlet, now married to Claudius +KING CLAUDIUS, brother to the late King Hamlet +OPHELIA +LAERTES, her brother +POLONIUS, father of Ophelia and Laertes, councillor to King Claudius +REYNALDO, servant to Polonius +HORATIO, Hamlet's friend and confidant +Courtiers at the Danish court: + VOLTEMAND + CORNELIUS + ROSENCRANTZ + GUILDENSTERN + OSRIC + Gentlemen + A Lord +Danish soldiers: + FRANCISCO + BARNARDO + MARCELLUS +FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway +A Captain in Fortinbras's army +Ambassadors to Denmark from England +Players who take the roles of Prologue, Player King, Player Queen, and Lucianus in The Murder of Gonzago +Two Messengers +Sailors +Gravedigger +Gravedigger's companion +Doctor of Divinity +Attendants, Lords, Guards, Musicians, Laertes's Followers, Soldiers, Officers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Barnardo and Francisco, two sentinels.] + + +BARNARDO Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself. + +BARNARDO Long live the King! + +FRANCISCO Barnardo? + +BARNARDO He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BARNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BARNARDO Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO Not a mouse stirring. + +BARNARDO Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +[Enter Horatio and Marcellus.] + + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them.--Stand ho! Who is there? + +HORATIO Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O farewell, honest soldier. Who hath relieved +you? + +FRANCISCO +Barnardo hath my place. Give you good night. +[Francisco exits.] + +MARCELLUS Holla, Barnardo. + +BARNARDO Say, what, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO A piece of him. + +BARNARDO +Welcome, Horatio.--Welcome, good Marcellus. + +HORATIO +What, has this thing appeared again tonight? + +BARNARDO I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us. +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night, +That, if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BARNARDO Sit down awhile, +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story, +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Barnardo speak of this. + +BARNARDO Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course t' illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one-- + +[Enter Ghost.] + + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off! Look where it comes again. + +BARNARDO +In the same figure like the King that's dead. + +MARCELLUS, [to Horatio] +Thou art a scholar. Speak to it, Horatio. + +BARNARDO +Looks he not like the King? Mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BARNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS Speak to it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? By heaven, I charge thee, +speak. + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BARNARDO See, it stalks away. + +HORATIO +Stay! speak! speak! I charge thee, speak! +[Ghost exits.] + +MARCELLUS 'Tis gone and will not answer. + +BARNARDO +How now, Horatio, you tremble and look pale. +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on 't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS Is it not like the King? + +HORATIO As thou art to thyself. +Such was the very armor he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated. +So frowned he once when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not, +But in the gross and scope of mine opinion +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon +And foreign mart for implements of war, +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week. +What might be toward that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint laborer with the day? +Who is 't that can inform me? + +HORATIO That can I. +At least the whisper goes so: our last king, +Whose image even but now appeared to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto pricked on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet +(For so this side of our known world esteemed him) +Did slay this Fortinbras, who by a sealed compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror. +Against the which a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king, which had returned +To the inheritance of Fortinbras +Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same comart +And carriage of the article designed, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Sharked up a list of lawless resolutes +For food and diet to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in 't; which is no other +(As it doth well appear unto our state) +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost. And this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch, and the chief head +Of this posthaste and rummage in the land. + +BARNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so. +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets; +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star, +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands, +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. +And even the like precurse of feared events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and Earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen. + +[Enter Ghost.] + +But soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again! +I'll cross it though it blast me.--Stay, illusion! +[It spreads his arms.] +If thou hast any sound or use of voice, +Speak to me. +If there be any good thing to be done +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me. +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which happily foreknowing may avoid, +O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it. [The cock crows.] +Stay and speak!--Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike it with my partisan? + +HORATIO Do, if it will not stand. + +BARNARDO 'Tis here. + +HORATIO 'Tis here. +[Ghost exits.] + +MARCELLUS 'Tis gone. +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence, +For it is as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BARNARDO +It was about to speak when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day, and at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine, and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Savior's birth is celebrated, +This bird of dawning singeth all night long; +And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad, +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallowed and so gracious is that time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But look, the morn in russet mantle clad +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill. +Break we our watch up, and by my advice +Let us impart what we have seen tonight +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do 't, I pray, and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most convenient. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the +Queen, the Council, as Polonius, and his son Laertes, +Hamlet, with others, among them Voltemand and +Cornelius.] + + +KING +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we (as 'twere with a defeated joy, +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole) +Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows that you know. Young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with this dream of his advantage, +He hath not failed to pester us with message +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother--so much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting. +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras, +Who, impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress +His further gait herein, in that the levies, +The lists, and full proportions are all made +Out of his subject; and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway, +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the King more than the scope +Of these dilated articles allow. +[Giving them a paper.] +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS/VOLTEMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING +We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell. +[Voltemand and Cornelius exit.] +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit. What is 't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane +And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, +Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES My dread lord, +Your leave and favor to return to France, +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +POLONIUS +Hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laborsome petition, and at last +Upon his will I sealed my hard consent. +I do beseech you give him leave to go. + +KING +Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will.-- +But now, my cousin Hamlet and my son-- + +HAMLET, [aside] +A little more than kin and less than kind. + +KING +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much in the sun. + +QUEEN +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not forever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust. +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +"Seems," madam? Nay, it is. I know not "seems." +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly. These indeed "seem," +For they are actions that a man might play; +But I have that within which passes show, +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, +Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father. +But you must know your father lost a father, +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief. +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschooled. +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie, 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd, whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died today, +"This must be so." We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe and think of us +As of a father; for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne, +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire, +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. +I pray thee, stay with us. Go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply. +Be as ourself in Denmark.--Madam, come. +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof +No jocund health that Denmark drinks today +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again, +Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away. +[Flourish. All but Hamlet exit.] + +HAMLET +O, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt, +Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, +Or that the Everlasting had not fixed +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, God, +How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on 't, ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden +That grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this: +But two months dead--nay, not so much, not two. +So excellent a king, that was to this +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth, +Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on. And yet, within a month +(Let me not think on 't; frailty, thy name is woman!), +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she followed my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears--why she, even she +(O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason +Would have mourned longer!), married with my +uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules. Within a month, +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not, nor it cannot come to good. +But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. + +[Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo.] + + +HORATIO Hail to your Lordship. + +HAMLET I am glad to see you well. +Horatio--or I do forget myself! + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend. I'll change that name with you. +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?-- +Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS My good lord. + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. [To Barnardo.] Good +even, sir.-- +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do my ear that violence +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself. I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I prithee, do not mock me, fellow student. +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once. He was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man. Take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET Saw who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the King your father. + +HAMLET The King my father? + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for a while +With an attent ear, till I may deliver +Upon the witness of these gentlemen +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET For God's love, let me hear! + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch, +In the dead waste and middle of the night, +Been thus encountered: a figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pie, +Appears before them and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked +By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes +Within his truncheon's length, whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did, +And I with them the third night kept the watch, +Where, as they had delivered, both in time, +Form of the thing (each word made true and good), +The apparition comes. I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO My lord, I did, +But answer made it none. Yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away +And vanished from our sight. + +HAMLET 'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true. +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET Indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch tonight? + +ALL We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Armed, say you? + +ALL Armed, my lord. + +HAMLET From top to toe? + +ALL My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET What, looked he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET And fixed his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET I would I had been there. + +HORATIO It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET Very like. Stayed it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a +hundred. + +BARNARDO/MARCELLUS Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw 't. + +HAMLET His beard was grizzled, no? + +HORATIO +It was as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silvered. + +HAMLET I will watch tonight. +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto concealed this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsomever else shall hap tonight, +Give it an understanding but no tongue. +I will requite your loves. So fare you well. +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +ALL Our duty to your Honor. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell. +[All but Hamlet exit.] +My father's spirit--in arms! All is not well. +I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come! +Till then, sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's +eyes. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Laertes and Ophelia, his sister.] + + +LAERTES +My necessaries are embarked. Farewell. +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convey is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute, +No more. + +OPHELIA No more but so? + +LAERTES Think it no more. +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will; but you must fear, +His greatness weighed, his will is not his own, +For he himself is subject to his birth. +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself, for on his choice depends +The safety and the health of this whole state. +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then, if he says he loves +you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed, which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain +If with too credent ear you list his songs +Or lose your heart or your chaste treasure open +To his unmastered importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough +If she unmask her beauty to the moon. +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes. +The canker galls the infants of the spring +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And, in the morn and liquid dew of youth, +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear. +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, +Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES O, fear me not. + +[Enter Polonius.] + +I stay too long. But here my father comes. +A double blessing is a double grace. +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stayed for. There, my blessing with +thee. +And these few precepts in thy memory +Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel, +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatched, unfledged courage. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, +Bear 't that th' opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice. +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not expressed in fancy (rich, not gaudy), +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be, +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine own self be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell. My blessing season this in thee. + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +POLONIUS +The time invests you. Go, your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA 'Tis in my memory locked, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES Farewell. [Laertes exits.] + +POLONIUS +What is 't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord +Hamlet. + +POLONIUS Marry, well bethought. +'Tis told me he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you, and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and +bounteous. +If it be so (as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution), I must tell you +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behooves my daughter and your honor. +What is between you? Give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +POLONIUS +Affection, puh! You speak like a green girl +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his "tenders," as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +POLONIUS +Marry, I will teach you. Think yourself a baby +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly, +Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus) you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honorable fashion-- + +POLONIUS +Ay, "fashion" you may call it. Go to, go to! + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both +Even in their promise as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be something scanter of your maiden presence. +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parle. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him that he is young, +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth +Have you so slander any moment leisure +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to 't, I charge you. Come your ways. + +OPHELIA I shall obey, my lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.] + + +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET What hour now? + +HORATIO I think it lacks of twelve. + +MARCELLUS No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed, I heard it not. It then draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. +[A flourish of trumpets and two pieces goes off.] +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO Is it a custom? + +HAMLET Ay, marry, is 't, +But, to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honored in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations. +They clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition. And, indeed, it takes +From our achievements, though performed at +height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So oft it chances in particular men +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As in their birth (wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin), +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion +(Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason), +Or by some habit that too much o'erleavens +The form of plausive manners--that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery or fortune's star, +His virtues else, be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo, +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault. The dram of evil +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +[Enter Ghost.] + + +HORATIO Look, my lord, it comes. + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace, defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from +hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou com'st in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee "Hamlet," +"King," "Father," "Royal Dane." O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulcher, +Wherein we saw thee quietly interred, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws +To cast thee up again. What may this mean +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, +Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous, and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do? +[Ghost beckons.] + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS Look with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground. +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak. Then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life at a pin's fee. +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again. I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord? +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? Think of it. +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still.--Go on, I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. [They hold back Hamlet.] + +HAMLET Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled. You shall not go. + +HAMLET My fate cries out +And makes each petty arture in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away!--Go on. I'll follow thee. +[Ghost and Hamlet exit.] + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS Nay, let's follow him. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Ghost and Hamlet.] + + +HAMLET +Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I'll go no +further. + +GHOST +Mark me. + +HAMLET I will. + +GHOST My hour is almost come +When I to sulf'rous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET Alas, poor ghost! + +GHOST +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET Speak. I am bound to hear. + +GHOST +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET What? + +GHOST I am thy father's spirit, +Doomed for a certain term to walk the night +And for the day confined to fast in fires +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their +spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part, +And each particular hair to stand an end, +Like quills upon the fearful porpentine. +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET O God! + +GHOST +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET Murder? + +GHOST +Murder most foul, as in the best it is, +But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know 't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +GHOST I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear. +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET O, my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +GHOST +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wits, with traitorous gifts-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen. +O Hamlet, what a falling off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine. +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So, lust, though to a radiant angel linked, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed +And prey on garbage. +But soft, methinks I scent the morning air. +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole +With juice of cursed hebona in a vial +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leprous distilment, whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigor it doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine, +And a most instant tetter barked about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatched, +Cut off, even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled, +No reck'ning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head. +O horrible, O horrible, most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsomever thou pursues this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once. +The glowworm shows the matin to be near +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire. +Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me. [He exits.] + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O Earth! What else? +And shall I couple hell? O fie! Hold, hold, my heart, +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee? +Ay, thou poor ghost, whiles memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee? +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial, fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there, +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmixed with baser matter. Yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables--meet it is I set it down +That one may smile and smile and be a villain. +At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. +[He writes.] +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word. +It is "adieu, adieu, remember me." +I have sworn 't. + +[Enter Horatio and Marcellus.] + + +HORATIO My lord, my lord! + +MARCELLUS Lord Hamlet. + +HORATIO Heavens secure him! + +HAMLET So be it. + +MARCELLUS Illo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come! + +MARCELLUS +How is 't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO What news, my lord? + +HAMLET O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET No, you will reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then? Would heart of man once think +it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO/MARCELLUS Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET Why, right, you are in the right. +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part, +You, as your business and desire shall point you +(For every man hath business and desire, +Such as it is), and for my own poor part, +I will go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, faith, heartily. + +HORATIO There's no offense, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offense, too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost--that let me tell you. +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO What is 't, my lord? We will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen tonight. + +HORATIO/MARCELLUS My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET Nay, but swear 't. + +HORATIO In faith, my lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +GHOST [cries under the stage] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha, boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage. +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +GHOST, [beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword. +Swear by my sword +Never to speak of this that you have heard. + +GHOST, [beneath] Swear by his sword. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole. Canst work i' th' earth so fast?-- +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange. + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come. +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd some'er I bear myself +(As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on) +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumbered thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As "Well, well, we know," or "We could an if we +would," +Or "If we list to speak," or "There be an if they +might," +Or such ambiguous giving-out, to note +That you know aught of me--this do swear, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you. + +GHOST, [beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit.--So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you, +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do t' express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together, +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint. O cursed spite +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter old Polonius with his man Reynaldo.] + + +POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO I will, my lord. + +POLONIUS +You shall do marvelous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO My lord, I did intend it. + +POLONIUS +Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they +keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it. +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him, +As thus: "I know his father and his friends +And, in part, him." Do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO Ay, very well, my lord. + +POLONIUS +"And, in part, him, but," you may say, "not well. +But if 't be he I mean, he's very wild, +Addicted so and so." And there put on him +What forgeries you please--marry, none so rank +As may dishonor him, take heed of that, +But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO As gaming, my lord. + +POLONIUS Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, +Quarreling, drabbing--you may go so far. + +REYNALDO My lord, that would dishonor him. + +POLONIUS +Faith, no, as you may season it in the charge. +You must not put another scandal on him +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning. But breathe his faults so +quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO But, my good lord-- + +POLONIUS Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO Ay, my lord, I would know that. + +POLONIUS Marry, sir, here's my drift, +And I believe it is a fetch of wit. +You, laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soiled i' th' working, +Mark you, your party in converse, him you would +sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence: +"Good sir," or so, or "friend," or "gentleman," +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country-- + +REYNALDO Very good, my lord. + +POLONIUS And then, sir, does he this, he does--what +was I about to say? By the Mass, I was about to say +something. Where did I leave? + +REYNALDO At "closes in the consequence," at "friend, +or so," and "gentleman." + +POLONIUS +At "closes in the consequence"--ay, marry-- +He closes thus: "I know the gentleman. +I saw him yesterday," or "th' other day" +(Or then, or then, with such or such), "and as you +say, +There was he gaming, there o'ertook in 's rouse, +There falling out at tennis"; or perchance +"I saw him enter such a house of sale"-- +Videlicet, a brothel--or so forth. See you now +Your bait of falsehood take this carp of truth; +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out. +So by my former lecture and advice +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +POLONIUS God be wi' you. Fare you well. + +REYNALDO Good my lord. + +POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO I shall, my lord. + +POLONIUS And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO Well, my lord. + +POLONIUS +Farewell. [Reynaldo exits.] + +[Enter Ophelia.] + +How now, Ophelia, what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +POLONIUS With what, i' th' name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced, +No hat upon his head, his stockings fouled, +Ungartered, and down-gyved to his ankle, +Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors--he comes before me. + +POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA My lord, I do not know, +But truly I do fear it. + +POLONIUS What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard. +Then goes he to the length of all his arm, +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stayed he so. +At last, a little shaking of mine arm, +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being. That done, he lets me go, +And, with his head over his shoulder turned, +He seemed to find his way without his eyes, +For out o' doors he went without their helps +And to the last bended their light on me. + +POLONIUS +Come, go with me. I will go seek the King. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passions under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but as you did command +I did repel his letters and denied +His access to me. + +POLONIUS That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not coted him. I feared he did but trifle +And meant to wrack thee. But beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King. +This must be known, which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. +Come. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King and Queen, Rosencrantz and +Guildenstern and Attendants.] + + +KING +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation, so call it, +Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from th' understanding of himself +I cannot dream of. I entreat you both +That, being of so young days brought up with him +And sith so neighbored to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time, so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus +That, opened, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN +Good gentlemen, he hath much talked of you, +And sure I am two men there is not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and goodwill +As to expend your time with us awhile +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ Both your Majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son.--Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practices +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN Ay, amen! +[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit +with some Attendants.] + +[Enter Polonius.] + + +POLONIUS +Th' ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully returned. + +KING +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege +I hold my duty as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king, +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING +O, speak of that! That do I long to hear. + +POLONIUS +Give first admittance to th' ambassadors. +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING +Thyself do grace to them and bring them in. +[Polonius exits.] +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN +I doubt it is no other but the main-- +His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING +Well, we shall sift him. + +[Enter Ambassadors Voltemand and Cornelius with +Polonius.] + +Welcome, my good friends. +Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTEMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies, which to him appeared +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack, +But, better looked into, he truly found +It was against your Highness. Whereat, grieved +That so his sickness, age, and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras, which he, in brief, obeys, +Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine, +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give th' assay of arms against your Majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three-score thousand crowns in annual +fee +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack, +With an entreaty, herein further shown, +[He gives a paper.] +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING It likes us well, +And, at our more considered time, we'll read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime, we thank you for your well-took labor. +Go to your rest. At night we'll feast together. +Most welcome home! +[Voltemand and Cornelius exit.] + +POLONIUS This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time +Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. +"Mad" call I it, for, to define true madness, +What is 't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN More matter with less art. + +POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he's mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity, +And pity 'tis 'tis true--a foolish figure, +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him then, and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or, rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause. +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. +Perpend. +I have a daughter (have while she is mine) +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this. Now gather and surmise. +[He reads.] To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the +most beautified Ophelia-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; "beautified" is a +vile phrase. But you shall hear. Thus: [He reads.] +In her excellent white bosom, these, etc.-- + +QUEEN Came this from Hamlet to her? + +POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile. I will be faithful. +[He reads the letter.] + Doubt thou the stars are fire, + Doubt that the sun doth move, + Doubt truth to be a liar, + But never doubt I love. +O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not +art to reckon my groans, but that I love thee best, O +most best, believe it. Adieu. +Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, Hamlet. +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means, and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING But how hath she received his love? + +POLONIUS What do you think of me? + +KING +As of a man faithful and honorable. + +POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing +(As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me), what might you, +Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think, +If I had played the desk or table-book +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or looked upon this love with idle sight? +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +"Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star. +This must not be." And then I prescripts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens; +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice, +And he, repelled (a short tale to make), +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves +And all we mourn for. + +KING, [to Queen] Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN It may be, very like. + +POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time (I would fain know +that) +That I have positively said "'Tis so," +When it proved otherwise? + +KING Not that I know. + +POLONIUS +Take this from this, if this be otherwise. +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid, indeed, +Within the center. + +KING How may we try it further? + +POLONIUS +You know sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN So he does indeed. + +POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him. +[To the King.] Be you and I behind an arras then. +Mark the encounter. If he love her not, +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING We will try it. + +[Enter Hamlet reading on a book.] + + +QUEEN +But look where sadly the poor wretch comes +reading. + +POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you both, away. +I'll board him presently. O, give me leave. +[King and Queen exit with Attendants.] +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET Well, God-a-mercy. + +POLONIUS Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET Excellent well. You are a fishmonger. + +POLONIUS Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET Then I would you were so honest a man. + +POLONIUS Honest, my lord? + +HAMLET Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to +be one man picked out of ten thousand. + +POLONIUS That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET For if the sun breed maggots in a dead +dog, being a good kissing carrion--Have you a +daughter? + +POLONIUS I have, my lord. + +HAMLET Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a +blessing, but, as your daughter may conceive, +friend, look to 't. + +POLONIUS, [aside] How say you by that? Still harping on +my daughter. Yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger. He is far gone. And truly, in my +youth, I suffered much extremity for love, very near +this. I'll speak to him again.--What do you read, my +lord? + +HAMLET Words, words, words. + +POLONIUS What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET Between who? + +POLONIUS I mean the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have gray beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams; all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I +hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for +yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if, like a crab, +you could go backward. + +POLONIUS, [aside] Though this be madness, yet there is +method in 't.--Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET Into my grave? + +POLONIUS Indeed, that's out of the air. [Aside.] How +pregnant sometimes his replies are! A happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and +sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I +will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My lord, +I will take my leave of you. + +HAMLET You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I +will more willingly part withal--except my life, +except my life, except my life. + +POLONIUS Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET, [aside] These tedious old fools. + +[Enter Guildenstern and Rosencrantz.] + + +POLONIUS You go to seek the Lord Hamlet. There he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ, [to Polonius] God save you, sir. +[Polonius exits.] + +GUILDENSTERN My honored lord. + +ROSENCRANTZ My most dear lord. + +HAMLET My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do +you both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy in that we are not overhappy. +On Fortune's cap, we are not the very button. + +HAMLET Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET Then you live about her waist, or in the +middle of her favors? + +GUILDENSTERN Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true! +She is a strumpet. What news? + +ROSENCRANTZ None, my lord, but that the world's +grown honest. + +HAMLET Then is doomsday near. But your news is not +true. Let me question more in particular. What +have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of +Fortune that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN Prison, my lord? + +HAMLET Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ Then is the world one. + +HAMLET A goodly one, in which there are many confines, +wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o' +th' worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET Why, then, 'tis none to you, for there is +nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it +so. To me, it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ Why, then, your ambition makes it one. +'Tis too narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and +count myself a king of infinite space, were it not +that I have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN Which dreams, indeed, are ambition, +for the very substance of the ambitious is merely +the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy +and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs +and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. +Shall we to th' court? For, by my fay, I cannot +reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ/GUILDENSTERN We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET No such matter. I will not sort you with the +rest of my servants, for, to speak to you like an +honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, +in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at +Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ To visit you, my lord, no other occasion. + +HAMLET Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; +but I thank you, and sure, dear friends, my thanks +are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? +Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? +Come, come, deal justly with me. Come, come; nay, +speak. + +GUILDENSTERN What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET Anything but to th' purpose. You were sent +for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to +color. I know the good king and queen have sent for +you. + +ROSENCRANTZ To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET That you must teach me. But let me conjure +you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy +of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better +proposer can charge you withal: be even and direct +with me whether you were sent for or no. + +ROSENCRANTZ, [to Guildenstern] What say you? + +HAMLET, [aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If +you love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the +King and Queen molt no feather. I have of late, but +wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises, and, indeed, it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +Earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging +firmament, this majestical roof, fretted +with golden fire--why, it appeareth nothing to me +but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. +What a piece of work is a man, how noble in +reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving +how express and admirable; in action how like +an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the +beauty of the world, the paragon of animals--and +yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man +delights not me, no, nor women neither, though by +your smiling you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ My lord, there was no such stuff in my +thoughts. + +HAMLET Why did you laugh, then, when I said "man +delights not me"? + +ROSENCRANTZ To think, my lord, if you delight not in +man, what Lenten entertainment the players shall +receive from you. We coted them on the way, and +hither are they coming to offer you service. + +HAMLET He that plays the king shall be welcome--his +Majesty shall have tribute on me. The adventurous +knight shall use his foil and target, the lover shall +not sigh gratis, the humorous man shall end his +part in peace, the clown shall make those laugh +whose lungs are tickle o' th' sear, and the lady +shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall +halt for 't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ Even those you were wont to take such +delight in, the tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET How chances it they travel? Their residence, +both in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ I think their inhibition comes by the +means of the late innovation. + +HAMLET Do they hold the same estimation they did +when I was in the city? Are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ No, indeed are they not. + +HAMLET How comes it? Do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ Nay, their endeavor keeps in the wonted +pace. But there is, sir, an aerie of children, little +eyases, that cry out on the top of question and are +most tyrannically clapped for 't. These are now the +fashion and so berattle the common stages (so +they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid +of goose quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET What, are they children? Who maintains 'em? +How are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality +no longer than they can sing? Will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players (as it is most like, if their means are +no better), their writers do them wrong to make +them exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ Faith, there has been much to-do on +both sides, and the nation holds it no sin to tar +them to controversy. There was for a while no +money bid for argument unless the poet and the +player went to cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET Is 't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN O, there has been much throwing +about of brains. + +HAMLET Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ Ay, that they do, my lord--Hercules +and his load too. + +HAMLET It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of +Denmark, and those that would make mouths at +him while my father lived give twenty, forty, fifty, +a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, +if philosophy could find it out. +[A flourish for the Players.] + +GUILDENSTERN There are the players. + +HAMLET Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. +Your hands, come then. Th' appurtenance of welcome +is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply +with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players, +which, I tell you, must show fairly outwards, should +more appear like entertainment than yours. You are +welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are +deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET I am but mad north-north-west. When the +wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +[Enter Polonius.] + + +POLONIUS Well be with you, gentlemen. + +HAMLET Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too--at +each ear a hearer! That great baby you see there is +not yet out of his swaddling clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ Haply he is the second time come to +them, for they say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the +players; mark it.--You say right, sir, a Monday +morning, 'twas then indeed. + +POLONIUS My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET My lord, I have news to tell you: when Roscius +was an actor in Rome-- + +POLONIUS The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET Buzz, buzz. + +POLONIUS Upon my honor-- + +HAMLET Then came each actor on his ass. + +POLONIUS The best actors in the world, either for +tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, +tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, +these are the only men. + +HAMLET O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure +hadst thou! + +POLONIUS What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET Why, + One fair daughter, and no more, + The which he loved passing well. + +POLONIUS, [aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET Am I not i' th' right, old Jephthah? + +POLONIUS If you call me "Jephthah," my lord: I have a +daughter that I love passing well. + +HAMLET Nay, that follows not. + +POLONIUS What follows then, my lord? + +HAMLET Why, + As by lot, God wot +and then, you know, + It came to pass, as most like it was-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more, for look where my abridgment comes. + +[Enter the Players.] + +You are welcome, masters; welcome all.--I am glad +to see thee well.--Welcome, good friends.--O my +old friend! Why, thy face is valanced since I saw thee +last. Com'st thou to beard me in Denmark?--What, +my young lady and mistress! By 'r Lady, your Ladyship +is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by +the altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a +piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en to 't +like French falconers, fly at anything we see. We'll +have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your +quality. Come, a passionate speech. + +FIRST PLAYER What speech, my good lord? + +HAMLET I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it +was never acted, or, if it was, not above once; for +the play, I remember, pleased not the million: +'twas caviary to the general. But it was (as I +received it, and others whose judgments in such +matters cried in the top of mine) an excellent play, +well digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savory, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict +the author of affection, but called it an honest +method, as wholesome as sweet and, by very much, +more handsome than fine. One speech in 't I +chiefly loved. 'Twas Aeneas' tale to Dido, and +thereabout of it especially when he speaks of +Priam's slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at +this line--let me see, let me see: +The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast-- +'tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus: +The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in th' ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smeared +With heraldry more dismal. Head to foot, +Now is he total gules, horridly tricked +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and a damned light +To their lord's murder. Roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks. +So, proceed you. + +POLONIUS 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good +accent and good discretion. + +FIRST PLAYER Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks. His antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command. Unequal matched, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +Th' unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo, his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seemed i' th' air to stick. +So as a painted tyrant Pyrrhus stood +And, like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But as we often see against some storm +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless, and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work, +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armor, forged for proof eterne, +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods +In general synod take away her power, +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven +As low as to the fiends! + +POLONIUS This is too long. + +HAMLET It shall to the barber's with your beard.-- +Prithee say on. He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or +he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba. + +FIRST PLAYER +But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen-- + +HAMLET "The mobled queen"? + +POLONIUS That's good. "Mobled queen" is good. + +FIRST PLAYER +Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames +With bisson rheum, a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'erteemed loins +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up-- +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steeped, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced. +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamor that she made +(Unless things mortal move them not at all) +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven +And passion in the gods. + +POLONIUS Look whe'er he has not turned his color and +has tears in 's eyes. Prithee, no more. + +HAMLET 'Tis well. I'll have thee speak out the rest of +this soon.--Good my lord, will you see the players +well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used, +for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time. After your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +POLONIUS My lord, I will use them according to their +desert. + +HAMLET God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every +man after his desert and who shall 'scape +whipping? Use them after your own honor and +dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in +your bounty. Take them in. + +POLONIUS Come, sirs. + +HAMLET Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play +tomorrow. [As Polonius and Players exit, Hamlet speaks to +the First Player.] Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can +you play "The Murder of Gonzago"? + +FIRST PLAYER Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET We'll ha 't tomorrow night. You could, for a +need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen +lines, which I would set down and insert in 't, +could you not? + +FIRST PLAYER Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET Very well. Follow that lord--and look you +mock him not. [First Player exits.] My good friends, +I'll leave you till night. You are welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ Good my lord. + +HAMLET +Ay, so, good-bye to you. +[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.] +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wanned, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit--and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appall the free, +Confound the ignorant and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing--no, not for a king +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damned defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me "villain"? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' th' throat +As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? +Ha! 'Swounds, I should take it! For it cannot be +But I am pigeon-livered and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless +villain! +O vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murdered, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words +And fall a-cursing like a very drab, +A stallion! Fie upon 't! Foh! +About, my brains!--Hum, I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have, by the very cunning of the scene, +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaimed their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick. If he do blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be a devil, and the devil hath power +T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps, +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds +More relative than this. The play's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, +Guildenstern, and Lords.] + + +KING +And can you by no drift of conference +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted, +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But with a crafty madness keeps aloof +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question, but of our demands +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN Did you assay him to any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out that certain players +We o'erraught on the way. Of these we told him, +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it. They are here about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +POLONIUS 'Tis most true, +And he beseeched me to entreat your Majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING +With all my heart, and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge +And drive his purpose into these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern +and Lords exit.] + +KING Sweet Gertrude, leave us too, +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia. +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be th' affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness. So shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honors. + +OPHELIA Madam, I wish it may. +[Queen exits.] + +POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here.--Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. [To Ophelia.] Read on this +book, +That show of such an exercise may color +Your loneliness.--We are oft to blame in this +('Tis too much proved), that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING, [aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my +conscience. +The harlot's cheek beautied with plast'ring art +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word. +O heavy burden! + +POLONIUS +I hear him coming. Let's withdraw, my lord. +[They withdraw.] + +[Enter Hamlet.] + + +HAMLET +To be or not to be--that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles +And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep-- +No more--and by a sleep to say we end +The heartache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to--'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep-- +To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub, +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause. There's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life. +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office, and the spurns +That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscovered country from whose bourn +No traveler returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pitch and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now, +The fair Ophelia.--Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remembered. + +OPHELIA Good my lord, +How does your Honor for this many a day? + +HAMLET I humbly thank you, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours +That I have longed long to redeliver. +I pray you now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I. I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honored lord, you know right well you did, +And with them words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich. Their perfume +lost, +Take these again, for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET Ha, ha, are you honest? + +OPHELIA My lord? + +HAMLET Are you fair? + +OPHELIA What means your Lordship? + +HAMLET That if you be honest and fair, your honesty +should admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce +than with honesty? + +HAMLET Ay, truly, for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than +the force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness. This was sometime a paradox, but now +the time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET You should not have believed me, for virtue +cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall +relish of it. I loved you not. + +OPHELIA I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be +a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am +very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offenses +at my beck than I have thoughts to put them +in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act +them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA At home, my lord. + +HAMLET Let the doors be shut upon him that he may +play the fool nowhere but in 's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague +for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, +marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what +monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, and +quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA Heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET I have heard of your paintings too, well +enough. God hath given you one face, and you +make yourselves another. You jig and amble, and +you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make +your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no +more on 't. It hath made me mad. I say we will have +no more marriage. Those that are married already, +all but one, shall live. The rest shall keep as they are. +To a nunnery, go. [He exits.] + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, +sword, +Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mold of form, +Th' observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That sucked the honey of his musicked vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of time and harsh; +That unmatched form and stature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me +T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +KING, [advancing with Polonius] +Love? His affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lacked form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood, +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger; which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England +For the demand of our neglected tribute. +Haply the seas, and countries different, +With variable objects, shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on 't? + +POLONIUS +It shall do well. But yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love.--How now, Ophelia? +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all.--My lord, do as you please, +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen-mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief. Let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING It shall be so. +Madness in great ones must not unwatched go. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Hamlet and three of the Players.] + + +HAMLET Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced +it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth +it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and +beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, +it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very +rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the +most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable +dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow +whipped for o'erdoing Termagant. It out-Herods +Herod. Pray you, avoid it. + +PLAYER I warrant your Honor. + +HAMLET Be not too tame neither, but let your own +discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the +word, the word to the action, with this special +observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of +nature. For anything so o'erdone is from the purpose +of playing, whose end, both at the first and +now, was and is to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to +nature, to show virtue her own feature, scorn her +own image, and the very age and body of the time +his form and pressure. Now this overdone or come +tardy off, though it makes the unskillful laugh, +cannot but make the judicious grieve, the censure +of the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh +a whole theater of others. O, there be players that I +have seen play and heard others praise (and that +highly), not to speak it profanely, that, neither +having th' accent of Christians nor the gait of +Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and +bellowed that I have thought some of nature's +journeymen had made men, and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +PLAYER I hope we have reformed that indifferently +with us, sir. + +HAMLET O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for +them, for there be of them that will themselves +laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators +to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered. +That's villainous and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. +[Players exit.] + +[Enter Polonius, Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz.] + +How now, my lord, will the King hear this piece of +work? + +POLONIUS And the Queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET Bid the players make haste. [Polonius exits.] +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ Ay, my lord. [They exit.] + +HAMLET What ho, Horatio! + +[Enter Horatio.] + + +HORATIO Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord-- + +HAMLET Nay, do not think I flatter, +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be +flattered? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath sealed thee for herself. For thou hast been +As one in suffering all that suffers nothing, +A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blessed are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well +commeddled +That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play tonight before the King. +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death. +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note, +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And, after, we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO Well, my lord. +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. +[Sound a flourish.] + +HAMLET They are coming to the play. I must be idle. +Get you a place. + +[Enter Trumpets and Kettle Drums. Enter King, Queen, +Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and other +Lords attendant with the King's guard carrying +torches.] + + +KING How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET Excellent, i' faith, of the chameleon's dish. I +eat the air, promise-crammed. You cannot feed +capons so. + +KING I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These +words are not mine. + +HAMLET No, nor mine now. [To Polonius.] My lord, you +played once i' th' university, you say? + +POLONIUS That did I, my lord, and was accounted a +good actor. + +HAMLET What did you enact? + +POLONIUS I did enact Julius Caesar. I was killed i' th' +Capitol. Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a +calf there.--Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ Ay, my lord. They stay upon your +patience. + +QUEEN Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET No, good mother. Here's metal more +attractive. [Hamlet takes a place near Ophelia.] + +POLONIUS, [to the King] Oh, ho! Do you mark that? + +HAMLET Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +OPHELIA No, my lord. + +HAMLET I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET That's a fair thought to lie between maids' +legs. + +OPHELIA What is, my lord? + +HAMLET Nothing. + +OPHELIA You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET Who, I? + +OPHELIA Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET O God, your only jig-maker. What should a +man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully +my mother looks, and my father died within 's two +hours. + +OPHELIA Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET So long? Nay, then, let the devil wear black, +for I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens, die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year. But, by 'r Lady, he must build churches, then, +or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the +hobby-horse, whose epitaph is "For oh, for oh, the +hobby-horse is forgot." +[The trumpets sounds. Dumb show follows.] + +[Enter a King and a Queen, very lovingly, the Queen +embracing him and he her. She kneels and makes show of +protestation unto him. He takes her up and declines his +head upon her neck. He lies him down upon a bank of +flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon +comes in another man, takes off his crown, kisses it, pours +poison in the sleeper's ears, and leaves him. The Queen +returns, finds the King dead, makes passionate action. The +poisoner with some three or four come in again, seem to +condole with her. The dead body is carried away. The +poisoner woos the Queen with gifts. She seems harsh +awhile but in the end accepts his love.] +[Players exit.] + +OPHELIA What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET Marry, this is miching mallecho. It means +mischief. + +OPHELIA Belike this show imports the argument of the +play. + +[Enter Prologue.] + + +HAMLET We shall know by this fellow. The players +cannot keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET Ay, or any show that you will show him. Be +not you ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you +what it means. + +OPHELIA You are naught, you are naught. I'll mark the +play. + +PROLOGUE + For us and for our tragedy, + Here stooping to your clemency, + We beg your hearing patiently. [He exits.] + +HAMLET Is this a prologue or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA 'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET As woman's love. + +[Enter the Player King and Queen.] + + +PLAYER KING +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrowed sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +PLAYER QUEEN +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But woe is me! You are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must. +For women fear too much, even as they love, +And women's fear and love hold quantity, +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now what my love is, proof hath made you know, +And, as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +PLAYER KING +Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too. +My operant powers their functions leave to do. +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honored, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +PLAYER QUEEN O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast. +In second husband let me be accurst. +None wed the second but who killed the first. + +HAMLET That's wormwood! + +PLAYER QUEEN +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love. +A second time I kill my husband dead +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +PLAYER KING +I do believe you think what now you speak, +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity, +Which now, the fruit unripe, sticks on the tree +But fall unshaken when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt. +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy. +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove +Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favorite flies; +The poor, advanced, makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend, +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun: +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. +So think thou wilt no second husband wed, +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +PLAYER QUEEN +Nor Earth to me give food, nor heaven light, +Sport and repose lock from me day and night, +To desperation turn my trust and hope, +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope. +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy. +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife. + +HAMLET If she should break it now! + +PLAYER KING +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile. +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. [Sleeps.] + +PLAYER QUEEN Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain. +[Player Queen exits.] + +HAMLET Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN The lady doth protest too much, methinks. + +HAMLET O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING Have you heard the argument? Is there no +offense in 't? + +HAMLET No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest. No +offense i' th' world. + +KING What do you call the play? + +HAMLET "The Mousetrap." Marry, how? Tropically. +This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna. +Gonzago is the duke's name, his wife Baptista. You +shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece of work, but +what of that? Your Majesty and we that have free +souls, it touches us not. Let the galled jade wince; +our withers are unwrung. + +[Enter Lucianus.] + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET I could interpret between you and your love, +if I could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET It would cost you a groaning to take off mine +edge. + +OPHELIA Still better and worse. + +HAMLET So you mis-take your husbands.--Begin, +murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable faces and +begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for +revenge. + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time +agreeing, +Confederate season, else no creature seeing, +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property +On wholesome life usurp immediately. +[Pours the poison in his ears.] + +HAMLET He poisons him i' th' garden for his estate. His +name's Gonzago. The story is extant and written in +very choice Italian. You shall see anon how the +murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. +[Claudius rises.] + +OPHELIA The King rises. + +HAMLET What, frighted with false fire? + +QUEEN How fares my lord? + +POLONIUS Give o'er the play. + +KING Give me some light. Away! + +POLONIUS Lights, lights, lights! +[All but Hamlet and Horatio exit.] + +HAMLET + Why, let the strucken deer go weep, + The hart ungalled play. + For some must watch, while some must sleep: + Thus runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers (if the +rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me) with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players? + +HORATIO Half a share. + +HAMLET A whole one, I. + For thou dost know, O Damon dear, + This realm dismantled was + Of Jove himself, and now reigns here + A very very--pajock. + +HORATIO You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for +a thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO I did very well note him. + +HAMLET Ah ha! Come, some music! Come, the +recorders! + For if the King like not the comedy, + Why, then, belike he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.] + + +GUILDENSTERN Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word +with you. + +HAMLET Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN The King, sir-- + +HAMLET Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN Is in his retirement marvelous +distempered. + +HAMLET With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN No, my lord, with choler. + +HAMLET Your wisdom should show itself more richer +to signify this to the doctor, for for me to put him to +his purgation would perhaps plunge him into more +choler. + +GUILDENSTERN Good my lord, put your discourse into +some frame and start not so wildly from my +affair. + +HAMLET I am tame, sir. Pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN The Queen your mother, in most great +affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not +of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me +a wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment. If not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET Sir, I cannot. + +ROSENCRANTZ What, my lord? + +HAMLET Make you a wholesome answer. My wit's +diseased. But, sir, such answer as I can make, you +shall command--or, rather, as you say, my mother. +Therefore no more but to the matter. My mother, +you say-- + +ROSENCRANTZ Then thus she says: your behavior hath +struck her into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET O wonderful son that can so 'stonish a mother! +But is there no sequel at the heels of this +mother's admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ She desires to speak with you in her +closet ere you go to bed. + +HAMLET We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. +Have you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET And do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ Good my lord, what is your cause of +distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your +own liberty if you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ How can that be, when you have the +voice of the King himself for your succession in +Denmark? + +HAMLET Ay, sir, but "While the grass grows"--the +proverb is something musty. + +[Enter the Players with recorders.] + +O, the recorders! Let me see one. [He takes a +recorder and turns to Guildenstern.] To withdraw +with you: why do you go about to recover the wind +of me, as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my +love is too unmannerly. + +HAMLET I do not well understand that. Will you play +upon this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages +with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with +your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent +music. Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN But these cannot I command to any +utt'rance of harmony. I have not the skill. + +HAMLET Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing +you make of me! You would play upon me, you +would seem to know my stops, you would pluck +out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me +from my lowest note to the top of my compass; +and there is much music, excellent voice, in this +little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, +do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? +Call me what instrument you will, though you can +fret me, you cannot play upon me. + +[Enter Polonius.] + +God bless you, sir. + +POLONIUS My lord, the Queen would speak with you, +and presently. + +HAMLET Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in +shape of a camel? + +POLONIUS By th' Mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed. + +HAMLET Methinks it is like a weasel. + +POLONIUS It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET Or like a whale. + +POLONIUS Very like a whale. + +HAMLET Then I will come to my mother by and by. +[Aside.] They fool me to the top of my bent.--I will +come by and by. + +POLONIUS I will say so. + +HAMLET "By and by" is easily said. Leave me, +friends. +[All but Hamlet exit.] +'Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes +out +Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot +blood +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom. +Let me be cruel, not unnatural. +I will speak daggers to her, but use none. +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites: +How in my words somever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.] + + +KING +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you. +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you. +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so near 's as doth hourly grow +Out of his brows. + +GUILDENSTERN We will ourselves provide. +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your Majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound +With all the strength and armor of the mind +To keep itself from noyance, but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests +The lives of many. The cess of majesty +Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw +What's near it with it; or it is a massy wheel +Fixed on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoined, which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage, +For we will fetters put about this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ We will haste us. +[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.] + +[Enter Polonius.] + + +POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet. +Behind the arras I'll convey myself +To hear the process. I'll warrant she'll tax him +home; +And, as you said (and wisely was it said), +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege. +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed +And tell you what I know. + +KING Thanks, dear my lord. +[Polonius exits.] +O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will. +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood? +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offense? +And what's in prayer but this twofold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardoned being down? Then I'll look up. +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? "Forgive me my foul murder"? +That cannot be, since I am still possessed +Of those effects for which I did the murder: +My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. +May one be pardoned and retain th' offense? +In the corrupted currents of this world, +Offense's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law. But 'tis not so above: +There is no shuffling; there the action lies +In his true nature, and we ourselves compelled, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? What rests? +Try what repentance can. What can it not? +Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay. +Bow, stubborn knees, and heart with strings of steel +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe. +All may be well. [He kneels.] + +[Enter Hamlet.] + + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is a-praying, +And now I'll do 't. [He draws his sword.] +And so he goes to heaven, +And so am I revenged. That would be scanned: +A villain kills my father, and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread, +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven. +But in our circumstance and course of thought +'Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and seasoned for his passage? +No. +Up sword, and know thou a more horrid hent. +[He sheathes his sword.] +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed, +At game, a-swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in 't-- +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damned and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays. +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. +[Hamlet exits.] + +KING, [rising] +My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Queen and Polonius.] + + +POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him. +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear +with +And that your Grace hath screened and stood +between +Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET, [within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN I'll warrant you. Fear me not. Withdraw, +I hear him coming. +[Polonius hides behind the arras.] + +[Enter Hamlet.] + + +HAMLET Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN +Why, how now, Hamlet? + +HAMLET What's the matter now? + +QUEEN +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET No, by the rood, not so. +You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, +And (would it were not so) you are my mother. + +QUEEN +Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge. +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN +What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me? +Help, ho! + +POLONIUS, [behind the arras] What ho! Help! + +HAMLET +How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead. +[He kills Polonius by thrusting a rapier +through the arras.] + +POLONIUS, [behind the arras] +O, I am slain! + +QUEEN O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET Nay, I know not. Is it the King? + +QUEEN +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed--almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN +As kill a king? + +HAMLET Ay, lady, it was my word. +[He pulls Polonius' body from behind the arras.] +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell. +I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune. +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +[To Queen.] Leave wringing of your hands. Peace, sit +you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brazed it so +That it be proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN +What have I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage vows +As false as dicers' oaths--O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words! Heaven's face does glow +O'er this solidity and compound mass +With heated visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN Ay me, what act +That roars so loud and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here upon this picture and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See what a grace was seated on this brow, +Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, +An eye like Mars' to threaten and command, +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill, +A combination and a form indeed +Where every god did seem to set his seal +To give the world assurance of a man. +This was your husband. Look you now what follows. +Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed +And batten on this moor? Ha! Have you eyes? +You cannot call it love, for at your age +The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble +And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense +Is apoplexed; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thralled, +But it reserved some quantity of choice +To serve in such a difference. What devil was 't +That thus hath cozened you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. O shame, where is thy blush? +Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax +And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardor gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn, +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN O Hamlet, speak no more! +Thou turn'st my eyes into my very soul, +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stewed in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty! + +QUEEN O, speak to me no more! +These words like daggers enter in my ears. +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET A murderer and a villain, +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings, +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole +And put it in his pocket-- + +QUEEN No more! + +HAMLET A king of shreds and patches-- + +[Enter Ghost.] + +Save me and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards!--What would your gracious +figure? + +QUEEN Alas, he's mad. + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +Th' important acting of your dread command? +O, say! + +GHOST Do not forget. This visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But look, amazement on thy mother sits. +O, step between her and her fighting soul. +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN Alas, how is 't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with th' incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep, +And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Start up and stand an end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares. +His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. [To the Ghost.] Do not +look upon me, +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects. Then what I have to do +Will want true color--tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there, look how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look where he goes even now out at the portal! +[Ghost exits.] + +QUEEN +This is the very coinage of your brain. +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET Ecstasy? +My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time +And makes as healthful music. It is not madness +That I have uttered. Bring me to the test, +And I the matter will reword, which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that flattering unction to your soul +That not your trespass but my madness speaks. +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven, +Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, +And do not spread the compost on the weeds +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue, +For, in the fatness of these pursy times, +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain! + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half! +Good night. But go not to my uncle's bed. +Assume a virtue if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery +That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence, the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature +And either ... the devil or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night, +And, when you are desirous to be blest, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord +[Pointing to Polonius.] +I do repent; but heaven hath pleased it so +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel only to be kind. +This bad begins, and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this by no means that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed, +Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse, +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses +Or paddling in your neck with his damned fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know, +For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top, +Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England, you know that. + +QUEEN Alack, +I had forgot! 'Tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters sealed; and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fanged, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work, +For 'tis the sport to have the enginer +Hoist with his own petard; and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines +And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing. +I'll lug the guts into the neighbor room. +Mother, good night indeed. This counselor +Is now most still, most secret, and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave.-- +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.-- +Good night, mother. +[They exit, Hamlet tugging in Polonius.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King and Queen, with Rosencrantz and +Guildenstern.] + + +KING +There's matter in these sighs; these profound heaves +You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN +Bestow this place on us a little while. +[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.] +Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen tonight! + +KING What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN +Mad as the sea and wind when both contend +Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries "A rat, a rat," +And in this brainish apprehension kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there. +His liberty is full of threats to all-- +To you yourself, to us, to everyone. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answered? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrained, and out of haunt +This mad young man. But so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit, +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN +To draw apart the body he hath killed, +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure: he weeps for what is done. + +KING O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch +But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed +We must with all our majesty and skill +Both countenance and excuse.--Ho, Guildenstern! + +[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.] + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid. +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragged him. +Go seek him out, speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. +[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.] +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends +And let them know both what we mean to do +And what's untimely done. ... +Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, +As level as the cannon to his blank +Transports his poisoned shot, may miss our name +And hit the woundless air. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Hamlet.] + + +HAMLET Safely stowed. + +GENTLEMEN, [within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET But soft, what noise? Who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +[Enter Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and others.] + + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ Believe what? + +HAMLET That I can keep your counsel and not mine +own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge, what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's countenance, +his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +King best service in the end. He keeps them like an +ape an apple in the corner of his jaw, first mouthed, +to be last swallowed. When he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you must tell us where the +body is and go with us to the King. + +HAMLET The body is with the King, but the King is not +with the body. The King is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN A "thing," my lord? + +HAMLET Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and +all after! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter King and two or three.] + + +KING +I have sent to seek him and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him. +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And, where 'tis so, th' offender's scourge is weighed, +But never the offense. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved +Or not at all. + +[Enter Rosencrantz.] + +How now, what hath befallen? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestowed, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ Ho! Bring in the lord. + +[They enter with Hamlet.] + + +KING Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET At supper. + +KING At supper where? + +HAMLET Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A +certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at +him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We +fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves +for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is +but variable service--two dishes but to one table. +That's the end. + +KING Alas, alas! + +HAMLET A man may fish with the worm that hath eat +of a king and eat of the fish that hath fed of that +worm. + +KING What dost thou mean by this? + +HAMLET Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' th' other +place yourself. But if, indeed, you find him not +within this month, you shall nose him as you go up +the stairs into the lobby. + +KING, [to Attendants.] Go, seek him there. + +HAMLET He will stay till you come. [Attendants exit.] + +KING +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety +(Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done) must send thee +hence +With fiery quickness. Therefore prepare thyself. +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +Th' associates tend, and everything is bent +For England. + +HAMLET For England? + +KING Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET Good. + +KING +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for +England. +Farewell, dear mother. + +KING Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother. Father and mother is man and wife, +Man and wife is one flesh, and so, my mother.-- +Come, for England. [He exits.] + +KING +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard. +Delay it not. I'll have him hence tonight. +Away, for everything is sealed and done +That else leans on th' affair. Pray you, make haste. +[All but the King exit.] +And England, if my love thou hold'st at aught +(As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us), thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process, which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England, +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Fortinbras with his army over the stage.] + + +FORTINBRAS +Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king. +Tell him that by his license Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his Majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +CAPTAIN I will do 't, my lord. + +FORTINBRAS Go softly on. [All but the Captain exit.] + +[Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and others.] + + +HAMLET Good sir, whose powers are these? + +CAPTAIN They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +CAPTAIN Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET Who commands them, sir? + +CAPTAIN +The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +CAPTAIN +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then, the Polack never will defend it. + +CAPTAIN +Yes, it is already garrisoned. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw. +This is th' impostume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks and shows no cause without +Why the man dies.--I humbly thank you, sir. + +CAPTAIN God be wi' you, sir. [He exits.] + +ROSENCRANTZ Will 't please you go, my lord? + +HAMLET +I'll be with you straight. Go a little before. +[All but Hamlet exit.] +How all occasions do inform against me +And spur my dull revenge. What is a man +If his chief good and market of his time +Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. +Sure He that made us with such large discourse, +Looking before and after, gave us not +That capability and godlike reason +To fust in us unused. Now whether it be +Bestial oblivion or some craven scruple +Of thinking too precisely on th' event +(A thought which, quartered, hath but one part +wisdom +And ever three parts coward), I do not know +Why yet I live to say "This thing's to do," +Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means +To do 't. Examples gross as Earth exhort me: +Witness this army of such mass and charge, +Led by a delicate and tender prince, +Whose spirit with divine ambition puffed +Makes mouths at the invisible event, +Exposing what is mortal and unsure +To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, +Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great +Is not to stir without great argument, +But greatly to find quarrel in a straw +When honor's at the stake. How stand I, then, +That have a father killed, a mother stained, +Excitements of my reason and my blood, +And let all sleep, while to my shame I see +The imminent death of twenty thousand men +That for a fantasy and trick of fame +Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot +Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, +Which is not tomb enough and continent +To hide the slain? O, from this time forth +My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth! +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Horatio, Queen, and a Gentleman.] + + +QUEEN I will not speak with her. + +GENTLEMAN She is importunate, +Indeed distract; her mood will needs be pitied. + +QUEEN What would she have? + +GENTLEMAN +She speaks much of her father, says she hears +There's tricks i' th' world, and hems, and beats her +heart, +Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt +That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing, +Yet the unshaped use of it doth move +The hearers to collection. They aim at it +And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts; +Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield +them, +Indeed would make one think there might be +thought, +Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. + +HORATIO +'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may +strew +Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. + +QUEEN Let her come in. [Gentleman exits.] +[Aside.] To my sick soul (as sin's true nature is), +Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss. +So full of artless jealousy is guilt, +It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. + +[Enter Ophelia distracted.] + + +OPHELIA +Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark? + +QUEEN How now, Ophelia? + +OPHELIA [sings] + How should I your true love know + From another one? + By his cockle hat and staff + And his sandal shoon. + +QUEEN +Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song? + +OPHELIA Say you? Nay, pray you, mark. +[Sings.] He is dead and gone, lady, + He is dead and gone; + At his head a grass-green turf, + At his heels a stone. +Oh, ho! + +QUEEN Nay, but Ophelia-- + +OPHELIA Pray you, mark. +[Sings.] White his shroud as the mountain snow-- + +[Enter King.] + + +QUEEN Alas, look here, my lord. + +OPHELIA [sings] + Larded all with sweet flowers; + Which bewept to the ground did not go + With true-love showers. + +KING How do you, pretty lady? + +OPHELIA Well, God dild you. They say the owl was a +baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are but +know not what we may be. God be at your table. + +KING Conceit upon her father. + +OPHELIA Pray let's have no words of this, but when +they ask you what it means, say you this: +[Sings.] Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's day, + All in the morning betime, + And I a maid at your window, + To be your Valentine. + Then up he rose and donned his clothes + And dupped the chamber door, + Let in the maid, that out a maid + Never departed more. + +KING Pretty Ophelia-- + +OPHELIA +Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on 't: +[Sings.] By Gis and by Saint Charity, + Alack and fie for shame, + Young men will do 't, if they come to 't; + By Cock, they are to blame. + Quoth she "Before you tumbled me, + You promised me to wed." +He answers: + "So would I 'a done, by yonder sun, + An thou hadst not come to my bed." + +KING How long hath she been thus? + +OPHELIA I hope all will be well. We must be patient, +but I cannot choose but weep to think they would +lay him i' th' cold ground. My brother shall know of +it. And so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, +my coach! Good night, ladies, good night, sweet +ladies, good night, good night. [She exits.] + +KING +Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. +[Horatio exits.] +O, this is the poison of deep grief. It springs +All from her father's death, and now behold! +O Gertrude, Gertrude, +When sorrows come, they come not single spies, +But in battalions: first, her father slain; +Next, your son gone, and he most violent author +Of his own just remove; the people muddied, +Thick, and unwholesome in their thoughts and +whispers +For good Polonius' death, and we have done but +greenly +In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia +Divided from herself and her fair judgment, +Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts; +Last, and as much containing as all these, +Her brother is in secret come from France, +Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds, +And wants not buzzers to infect his ear +With pestilent speeches of his father's death, +Wherein necessity, of matter beggared, +Will nothing stick our person to arraign +In ear and ear. O, my dear Gertrude, this, +Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places +Gives me superfluous death. +[A noise within.] + +QUEEN Alack, what noise is this? + +KING Attend! +Where is my Switzers? Let them guard the door. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +What is the matter? + +MESSENGER Save yourself, my lord. +The ocean, overpeering of his list, +Eats not the flats with more impiteous haste +Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, +O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him "lord," +And, as the world were now but to begin, +Antiquity forgot, custom not known, +The ratifiers and props of every word, +They cry "Choose we, Laertes shall be king!" +Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds, +"Laertes shall be king! Laertes king!" +[A noise within.] + +QUEEN +How cheerfully on the false trail they cry. +O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs! + +KING The doors are broke. + +[Enter Laertes with others. +] + +LAERTES +Where is this king?--Sirs, stand you all without. + +ALL No, let's come in! + +LAERTES I pray you, give me leave. + +ALL We will, we will. + +LAERTES +I thank you. Keep the door. [Followers exit.] O, thou +vile king, +Give me my father! + +QUEEN Calmly, good Laertes. + +LAERTES +That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me +bastard, +Cries "cuckold" to my father, brands the harlot +Even here between the chaste unsmirched brow +Of my true mother. + +KING What is the cause, Laertes, +That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?-- +Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person. +There's such divinity doth hedge a king +That treason can but peep to what it would, +Acts little of his will.--Tell me, Laertes, +Why thou art thus incensed.--Let him go, +Gertrude.-- +Speak, man. + +LAERTES Where is my father? + +KING Dead. + +QUEEN +But not by him. + +KING Let him demand his fill. + +LAERTES +How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with. +To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! +Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! +I dare damnation. To this point I stand, +That both the worlds I give to negligence, +Let come what comes, only I'll be revenged +Most throughly for my father. + +KING Who shall stay you? + +LAERTES My will, not all the world. +And for my means, I'll husband them so well +They shall go far with little. + +KING Good Laertes, +If you desire to know the certainty +Of your dear father, is 't writ in your revenge +That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and +foe, +Winner and loser? + +LAERTES None but his enemies. + +KING Will you know them, then? + +LAERTES +To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms +And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican, +Repast them with my blood. + +KING Why, now you speak +Like a good child and a true gentleman. +That I am guiltless of your father's death +And am most sensibly in grief for it, +It shall as level to your judgment 'pear +As day does to your eye. + + [A noise within:] "Let her come in!" + +LAERTES How now, what noise is that? + +[Enter Ophelia.] + +O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt +Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye! +By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight +Till our scale turn the beam! O rose of May, +Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia! +O heavens, is 't possible a young maid's wits +Should be as mortal as an old man's life? +Nature is fine in love, and, where 'tis fine, +It sends some precious instance of itself +After the thing it loves. + +OPHELIA [sings] + They bore him barefaced on the bier, + Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny, + And in his grave rained many a tear. +Fare you well, my dove. + +LAERTES +Hadst thou thy wits and didst persuade revenge, +It could not move thus. + +OPHELIA You must sing "A-down a-down"--and you +"Call him a-down-a."--O, how the wheel becomes +it! It is the false steward that stole his master's +daughter. + +LAERTES This nothing's more than matter. + +OPHELIA There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. +Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, +that's for thoughts. + +LAERTES A document in madness: thoughts and remembrance +fitted. + +OPHELIA There's fennel for you, and columbines. +There's rue for you, and here's some for me; we +may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. You must wear +your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. I would +give you some violets, but they withered all when +my father died. They say he made a good end. +[Sings.] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy. + +LAERTES +Thought and afflictions, passion, hell itself +She turns to favor and to prettiness. + +OPHELIA [sings] + And will he not come again? + And will he not come again? + No, no, he is dead. + Go to thy deathbed. + He never will come again. + + His beard was as white as snow, + All flaxen was his poll. + He is gone, he is gone, + And we cast away moan. + God 'a mercy on his soul. +And of all Christians' souls, I pray God. God be wi' +you. [She exits.] + +LAERTES Do you see this, O God? + +KING +Laertes, I must commune with your grief, +Or you deny me right. Go but apart, +Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, +And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me. +If by direct or by collateral hand +They find us touched, we will our kingdom give, +Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, +To you in satisfaction; but if not, +Be you content to lend your patience to us, +And we shall jointly labor with your soul +To give it due content. + +LAERTES Let this be so. +His means of death, his obscure funeral +(No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones, +No noble rite nor formal ostentation) +Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth, +That I must call 't in question. + +KING So you shall, +And where th' offense is, let the great ax fall. +I pray you, go with me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Horatio and others.] + + +HORATIO What are they that would speak with me? + +GENTLEMAN Seafaring men, sir. They say they have +letters for you. + +HORATIO Let them come in. [Gentleman exits.] I do not +know from what part of the world I should be +greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet. + +[Enter Sailors.] + + +SAILOR God bless you, sir. + +HORATIO Let Him bless thee too. + +SAILOR He shall, sir, an 't please Him. There's a letter +for you, sir. It came from th' ambassador that was +bound for England--if your name be Horatio, as I +am let to know it is. [He hands Horatio a letter.] + +HORATIO [reads the letter] Horatio, when thou shalt have +overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the +King. They have letters for him. Ere we were two days +old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave +us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on +a compelled valor, and in the grapple I boarded them. +On the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone +became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like +thieves of mercy, but they knew what they did: I am to +do a good turn for them. Let the King have the letters +I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed +as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in +thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too +light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows +will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern +hold their course for England; of them I have +much to tell thee. Farewell. +He that thou knowest thine, +Hamlet. +Come, I will give you way for these your letters +And do 't the speedier that you may direct me +To him from whom you brought them. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter King and Laertes.] + + +KING +Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, +And you must put me in your heart for friend, +Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, +That he which hath your noble father slain +Pursued my life. + +LAERTES It well appears. But tell me +Why you proceeded not against these feats, +So criminal and so capital in nature, +As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else, +You mainly were stirred up. + +KING O, for two special reasons, +Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed, +But yet to me they're strong. The Queen his mother +Lives almost by his looks, and for myself +(My virtue or my plague, be it either which), +She is so conjunctive to my life and soul +That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, +I could not but by her. The other motive +Why to a public count I might not go +Is the great love the general gender bear him, +Who, dipping all his faults in their affection, +Work like the spring that turneth wood to stone, +Convert his gyves to graces, so that my arrows, +Too slightly timbered for so loud a wind, +Would have reverted to my bow again, +But not where I have aimed them. + +LAERTES +And so have I a noble father lost, +A sister driven into desp'rate terms, +Whose worth, if praises may go back again, +Stood challenger on mount of all the age +For her perfections. But my revenge will come. + +KING +Break not your sleeps for that. You must not think +That we are made of stuff so flat and dull +That we can let our beard be shook with danger +And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more. +I loved your father, and we love ourself, +And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine-- + +[Enter a Messenger with letters.] + +How now? What news? + +MESSENGER Letters, my lord, from +Hamlet. +These to your Majesty, this to the Queen. + +KING From Hamlet? Who brought them? + +MESSENGER +Sailors, my lord, they say. I saw them not. +They were given me by Claudio. He received them +Of him that brought them. + +KING Laertes, you shall hear +them.-- +Leave us. [Messenger exits.] +[Reads.] High and mighty, you shall know I am set +naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to +see your kingly eyes, when I shall (first asking your +pardon) thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden +and more strange return. Hamlet. +What should this mean? Are all the rest come back? +Or is it some abuse and no such thing? + +LAERTES Know you the hand? + +KING 'Tis Hamlet's character. "Naked"-- +And in a postscript here, he says "alone." +Can you advise me? + +LAERTES +I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come. +It warms the very sickness in my heart +That I shall live and tell him to his teeth +"Thus didst thou." + +KING If it be so, Laertes +(As how should it be so? how otherwise?), +Will you be ruled by me? + +LAERTES Ay, my lord, +So you will not o'errule me to a peace. + +KING +To thine own peace. If he be now returned, +As checking at his voyage, and that he means +No more to undertake it, I will work him +To an exploit, now ripe in my device, +Under the which he shall not choose but fall; +And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, +But even his mother shall uncharge the practice +And call it accident. + +LAERTES My lord, I will be ruled, +The rather if you could devise it so +That I might be the organ. + +KING It falls right. +You have been talked of since your travel much, +And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality +Wherein they say you shine. Your sum of parts +Did not together pluck such envy from him +As did that one, and that, in my regard, +Of the unworthiest siege. + +LAERTES What part is that, my lord? + +KING +A very ribbon in the cap of youth-- +Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes +The light and careless livery that it wears +Than settled age his sables and his weeds, +Importing health and graveness. Two months since +Here was a gentleman of Normandy. +I have seen myself, and served against, the French, +And they can well on horseback, but this gallant +Had witchcraft in 't. He grew unto his seat, +And to such wondrous doing brought his horse +As had he been encorpsed and demi-natured +With the brave beast. So far he topped my thought +That I in forgery of shapes and tricks +Come short of what he did. + +LAERTES A Norman was 't? + +KING A Norman. + +LAERTES +Upon my life, Lamord. + +KING The very same. + +LAERTES +I know him well. He is the brooch indeed +And gem of all the nation. + +KING He made confession of you +And gave you such a masterly report +For art and exercise in your defense, +And for your rapier most especial, +That he cried out 'twould be a sight indeed +If one could match you. The 'scrimers of their +nation +He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye, +If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his +Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy +That he could nothing do but wish and beg +Your sudden coming-o'er, to play with you. +Now out of this-- + +LAERTES What out of this, my lord? + +KING +Laertes, was your father dear to you? +Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, +A face without a heart? + +LAERTES Why ask you this? + +KING +Not that I think you did not love your father, +But that I know love is begun by time +And that I see, in passages of proof, +Time qualifies the spark and fire of it. +There lives within the very flame of love +A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it, +And nothing is at a like goodness still; +For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, +Dies in his own too-much. That we would do +We should do when we would; for this "would" +changes +And hath abatements and delays as many +As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents; +And then this "should" is like a spendthrift sigh, +That hurts by easing. But to the quick of th' ulcer: +Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake +To show yourself indeed your father's son +More than in words? + +LAERTES To cut his throat i' th' church. + +KING +No place indeed should murder sanctuarize; +Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes, +Will you do this? Keep close within your chamber. +Hamlet, returned, shall know you are come home. +We'll put on those shall praise your excellence +And set a double varnish on the fame +The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, +together +And wager on your heads. He, being remiss, +Most generous, and free from all contriving, +Will not peruse the foils, so that with ease, +Or with a little shuffling, you may choose +A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice +Requite him for your father. + +LAERTES I will do 't, +And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword. +I bought an unction of a mountebank +So mortal that, but dip a knife in it, +Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, +Collected from all simples that have virtue +Under the moon, can save the thing from death +That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point +With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly, +It may be death. + +KING Let's further think of this, +Weigh what convenience both of time and means +May fit us to our shape. If this should fail, +And that our drift look through our bad +performance, +'Twere better not assayed. Therefore this project +Should have a back or second that might hold +If this did blast in proof. Soft, let me see. +We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings-- +I ha 't! +When in your motion you are hot and dry +(As make your bouts more violent to that end) +And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared +him +A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping, +If he by chance escape your venomed stuck, +Our purpose may hold there.--But stay, what +noise? + +[Enter Queen.] + + +QUEEN +One woe doth tread upon another's heel, +So fast they follow. Your sister's drowned, Laertes. + +LAERTES Drowned? O, where? + +QUEEN +There is a willow grows askant the brook +That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream. +Therewith fantastic garlands did she make +Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, +That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, +But our cold maids do "dead men's fingers" call +them. +There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds +Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke, +When down her weedy trophies and herself +Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, +And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up, +Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, +As one incapable of her own distress +Or like a creature native and endued +Unto that element. But long it could not be +Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, +Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay +To muddy death. + +LAERTES Alas, then she is drowned. + +QUEEN Drowned, drowned. + +LAERTES +Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, +And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet +It is our trick; nature her custom holds, +Let shame say what it will. When these are gone, +The woman will be out.--Adieu, my lord. +I have a speech o' fire that fain would blaze, +But that this folly drowns it. [He exits.] + +KING Let's follow, Gertrude. +How much I had to do to calm his rage! +Now fear I this will give it start again. +Therefore, let's follow. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Gravedigger and Another.] + + +GRAVEDIGGER Is she to be buried in Christian burial, +when she willfully seeks her own salvation? + +OTHER I tell thee she is. Therefore make her grave +straight. The crowner hath sat on her and finds it +Christian burial. + +GRAVEDIGGER How can that be, unless she drowned +herself in her own defense? + +OTHER Why, 'tis found so. + +GRAVEDIGGER It must be se offendendo; it cannot be +else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself +wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three +branches--it is to act, to do, to perform. Argal, she +drowned herself wittingly. + +OTHER Nay, but hear you, goodman delver-- + +GRAVEDIGGER Give me leave. Here lies the water; +good. Here stands the man; good. If the man go to +this water and drown himself, it is (will he, nill he) +he goes; mark you that. But if the water come to him +and drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he +that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his +own life. + +OTHER But is this law? + +GRAVEDIGGER Ay, marry, is 't--crowner's 'quest law. + +OTHER Will you ha' the truth on 't? If this had not been +a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' +Christian burial. + +GRAVEDIGGER Why, there thou sayst. And the more +pity that great folk should have count'nance in this +world to drown or hang themselves more than +their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no +ancient gentlemen but gard'ners, ditchers, and +grave-makers. They hold up Adam's profession. + +OTHER Was he a gentleman? + +GRAVEDIGGER He was the first that ever bore arms. + +OTHER Why, he had none. + +GRAVEDIGGER What, art a heathen? How dost thou +understand the scripture? The scripture says Adam +digged. Could he dig without arms? I'll put another +question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the +purpose, confess thyself-- + +OTHER Go to! + +GRAVEDIGGER What is he that builds stronger than +either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? + +OTHER The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a +thousand tenants. + +GRAVEDIGGER I like thy wit well, in good faith. The +gallows does well. But how does it well? It does +well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the +gallows is built stronger than the church. Argal, the +gallows may do well to thee. To 't again, come. + +OTHER "Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, +or a carpenter?" + +GRAVEDIGGER Ay, tell me that, and unyoke. + +OTHER Marry, now I can tell. + +GRAVEDIGGER To 't. + +OTHER Mass, I cannot tell. + +[Enter Hamlet and Horatio afar off.] + + +GRAVEDIGGER Cudgel thy brains no more about it, +for your dull ass will not mend his pace with +beating. And, when you are asked this question +next, say "a grave-maker." The houses he makes +lasts till doomsday. Go, get thee in, and fetch me a +stoup of liquor. +[The Other Man exits +and the Gravedigger digs and sings.] + In youth when I did love, did love, + Methought it was very sweet + To contract--O--the time for--a--my behove, + O, methought there--a--was nothing--a--meet. + +HAMLET Has this fellow no feeling of his business? He +sings in grave-making. + +HORATIO Custom hath made it in him a property of +easiness. + +HAMLET 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment +hath the daintier sense. + +GRAVEDIGGER [sings] + But age with his stealing steps + Hath clawed me in his clutch, + And hath shipped me into the land, + As if I had never been such. +[He digs up a skull.] + +HAMLET That skull had a tongue in it and could sing +once. How the knave jowls it to the ground as if +'twere Cain's jawbone, that did the first murder! +This might be the pate of a politician which this ass +now o'erreaches, one that would circumvent God, +might it not? + +HORATIO It might, my lord. + +HAMLET Or of a courtier, which could say "Good +morrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, sweet lord?" +This might be my Lord Such-a-one that praised my +Lord Such-a-one's horse when he went to beg it, +might it not? + +HORATIO Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET Why, e'en so. And now my Lady Worm's, +chapless and knocked about the mazard with a +sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution, an we had +the trick to see 't. Did these bones cost no more the +breeding but to play at loggets with them? Mine +ache to think on 't. + +GRAVEDIGGER [sings] + A pickax and a spade, a spade, + For and a shrouding sheet, + O, a pit of clay for to be made + For such a guest is meet. +[He digs up more skulls.] + +HAMLET There's another. Why may not that be the +skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his +quillities, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Why +does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him +about the sconce with a dirty shovel and will not tell +him of his action of battery? Hum, this fellow might +be in 's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, +his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, +his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines and the +recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full +of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch him no more +of his purchases, and double ones too, than the +length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very +conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box, +and must th' inheritor himself have no more, ha? + +HORATIO Not a jot more, my lord. + +HAMLET Is not parchment made of sheepskins? + +HORATIO Ay, my lord, and of calves' skins too. + +HAMLET They are sheep and calves which seek out +assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.-- +Whose grave's this, sirrah? + +GRAVEDIGGER Mine, sir. +[Sings.] O, a pit of clay for to be made + For such a guest is meet. + +HAMLET I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in 't. + +GRAVEDIGGER You lie out on 't, sir, and therefore 'tis +not yours. For my part, I do not lie in 't, yet it is +mine. + +HAMLET Thou dost lie in 't, to be in 't and say it is thine. +'Tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou +liest. + +GRAVEDIGGER 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again +from me to you. + +HAMLET What man dost thou dig it for? + +GRAVEDIGGER For no man, sir. + +HAMLET What woman then? + +GRAVEDIGGER For none, neither. + +HAMLET Who is to be buried in 't? + +GRAVEDIGGER One that was a woman, sir, but, rest +her soul, she's dead. + +HAMLET How absolute the knave is! We must speak by +the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the +Lord, Horatio, this three years I have took note of +it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the +peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he +galls his kibe.--How long hast thou been +grave-maker? + +GRAVEDIGGER Of all the days i' th' year, I came to 't +that day that our last King Hamlet overcame +Fortinbras. + +HAMLET How long is that since? + +GRAVEDIGGER Cannot you tell that? Every fool can +tell that. It was that very day that young Hamlet +was born--he that is mad, and sent into England. + +HAMLET Ay, marry, why was he sent into England? + +GRAVEDIGGER Why, because he was mad. He shall +recover his wits there. Or if he do not, 'tis no great +matter there. + +HAMLET Why? + +GRAVEDIGGER 'Twill not be seen in him there. There +the men are as mad as he. + +HAMLET How came he mad? + +GRAVEDIGGER Very strangely, they say. + +HAMLET How "strangely"? + +GRAVEDIGGER Faith, e'en with losing his wits. + +HAMLET Upon what ground? + +GRAVEDIGGER Why, here in Denmark. I have been +sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. + +HAMLET How long will a man lie i' th' earth ere he rot? + +GRAVEDIGGER Faith, if he be not rotten before he die +(as we have many pocky corses nowadays that will +scarce hold the laying in), he will last you some +eight year or nine year. A tanner will last you nine +year. + +HAMLET Why he more than another? + +GRAVEDIGGER Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his +trade that he will keep out water a great while; and +your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead +body. Here's a skull now hath lien you i' th' earth +three-and-twenty years. + +HAMLET Whose was it? + +GRAVEDIGGER A whoreson mad fellow's it was. +Whose do you think it was? + +HAMLET Nay, I know not. + +GRAVEDIGGER A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! +He poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. +This same skull, sir, was, sir, Yorick's skull, the +King's jester. + +HAMLET This? + +GRAVEDIGGER E'en that. + +HAMLET, [taking the skull] Let me see. Alas, poor +Yorick! I knew him, Horatio--a fellow of infinite +jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his +back a thousand times, and now how abhorred in +my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung +those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. +Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your +songs? your flashes of merriment that were wont to +set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your +own grinning? Quite chapfallen? Now get you to my +lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch +thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh +at that.--Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. + +HORATIO What's that, my lord? + +HAMLET Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this +fashion i' th' earth? + +HORATIO E'en so. + +HAMLET And smelt so? Pah! [He puts the skull down.] + +HORATIO E'en so, my lord. + +HAMLET To what base uses we may return, Horatio! +Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of +Alexander till he find it stopping a bunghole? + +HORATIO 'Twere to consider too curiously to consider +so. + +HAMLET No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither, +with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as +thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander +returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of earth +we make loam; and why of that loam whereto he +was converted might they not stop a beer barrel? +Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay, +Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. +O, that that earth which kept the world in awe +Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw! + +[Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Lords attendant, and the +corpse of Ophelia, with a Doctor of Divinity.] + +But soft, but soft awhile! Here comes the King, +The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow? +And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken +The corse they follow did with desp'rate hand +Fordo its own life. 'Twas of some estate. +Couch we awhile and mark. [They step aside.] + +LAERTES What ceremony else? + +HAMLET That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark. + +LAERTES What ceremony else? + +DOCTOR +Her obsequies have been as far enlarged +As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful, +And, but that great command o'ersways the order, +She should in ground unsanctified been lodged +Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers +Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on +her. +Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants, +Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home +Of bell and burial. + +LAERTES +Must there no more be done? + +DOCTOR No more be done. +We should profane the service of the dead +To sing a requiem and such rest to her +As to peace-parted souls. + +LAERTES Lay her i' th' earth, +And from her fair and unpolluted flesh +May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, +A minist'ring angel shall my sister be +When thou liest howling. + +HAMLET, [to Horatio] What, the fair Ophelia? + +QUEEN Sweets to the sweet, farewell! +[She scatters flowers.] +I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife; +I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, +And not have strewed thy grave. + +LAERTES O, treble woe +Fall ten times treble on that cursed head +Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense +Deprived thee of!--Hold off the earth awhile, +Till I have caught her once more in mine arms. +[Leaps in the grave.] +Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, +Till of this flat a mountain you have made +T' o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head +Of blue Olympus. + +HAMLET, [advancing] +What is he whose grief +Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow +Conjures the wand'ring stars and makes them stand +Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, +Hamlet the Dane. + +LAERTES, [coming out of the grave] +The devil take thy soul! + +HAMLET Thou pray'st not well. [They grapple.] +I prithee take thy fingers from my throat, +For though I am not splenitive and rash, +Yet have I in me something dangerous, +Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand. + +KING Pluck them asunder. + +QUEEN Hamlet! Hamlet! + +ALL Gentlemen! + +HORATIO Good my lord, be quiet. +[Hamlet and Laertes are separated.] + +HAMLET +Why, I will fight with him upon this theme +Until my eyelids will no longer wag! + +QUEEN O my son, what theme? + +HAMLET +I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers +Could not with all their quantity of love +Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her? + +KING O, he is mad, Laertes! + +QUEEN For love of God, forbear him. + +HAMLET 'Swounds, show me what thou 't do. +Woo't weep, woo't fight, woo't fast, woo't tear +thyself, +Woo't drink up eisel, eat a crocodile? +I'll do 't. Dost thou come here to whine? +To outface me with leaping in her grave? +Be buried quick with her, and so will I. +And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw +Millions of acres on us, till our ground, +Singeing his pate against the burning zone, +Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, an thou 'lt mouth, +I'll rant as well as thou. + +QUEEN This is mere madness; +And thus awhile the fit will work on him. +Anon, as patient as the female dove +When that her golden couplets are disclosed, +His silence will sit drooping. + +HAMLET Hear you, sir, +What is the reason that you use me thus? +I loved you ever. But it is no matter. +Let Hercules himself do what he may, +The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. +[Hamlet exits.] + +KING +I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him. +[Horatio exits.] +[To Laertes.] Strengthen your patience in our last +night's speech. +We'll put the matter to the present push.-- +Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.-- +This grave shall have a living monument. +An hour of quiet thereby shall we see. +Till then in patience our proceeding be. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Hamlet and Horatio.] + + +HAMLET +So much for this, sir. Now shall you see the other. +You do remember all the circumstance? + +HORATIO Remember it, my lord! + +HAMLET +Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting +That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay +Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly-- +And praised be rashness for it; let us know, +Our indiscretion sometime serves us well +When our deep plots do pall; and that should learn +us +There's a divinity that shapes our ends, +Rough-hew them how we will-- + +HORATIO That is most +certain. + +HAMLET Up from my cabin, +My sea-gown scarfed about me, in the dark +Groped I to find out them; had my desire, +Fingered their packet, and in fine withdrew +To mine own room again, making so bold +(My fears forgetting manners) to unfold +Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio, +A royal knavery--an exact command, +Larded with many several sorts of reasons +Importing Denmark's health and England's too, +With--ho!--such bugs and goblins in my life, +That on the supervise, no leisure bated, +No, not to stay the grinding of the ax, +My head should be struck off. + +HORATIO Is 't possible? + +HAMLET +Here's the commission. Read it at more leisure. +[Handing him a paper.] +But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed? + +HORATIO I beseech you. + +HAMLET +Being thus benetted round with villainies, +Or I could make a prologue to my brains, +They had begun the play. I sat me down, +Devised a new commission, wrote it fair-- +I once did hold it, as our statists do, +A baseness to write fair, and labored much +How to forget that learning; but, sir, now +It did me yeoman's service. Wilt thou know +Th' effect of what I wrote? + +HORATIO Ay, good my lord. + +HAMLET +An earnest conjuration from the King, +As England was his faithful tributary, +As love between them like the palm might flourish, +As peace should still her wheaten garland wear +And stand a comma 'tween their amities, +And many suchlike ases of great charge, +That, on the view and knowing of these contents, +Without debatement further, more or less, +He should those bearers put to sudden death, +Not shriving time allowed. + +HORATIO How was this sealed? + +HAMLET +Why, even in that was heaven ordinant. +I had my father's signet in my purse, +Which was the model of that Danish seal; +Folded the writ up in the form of th' other, +Subscribed it, gave 't th' impression, placed it +safely, +The changeling never known. Now, the next day +Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent +Thou knowest already. + +HORATIO +So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to 't. + +HAMLET +Why, man, they did make love to this employment. +They are not near my conscience. Their defeat +Does by their own insinuation grow. +'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes +Between the pass and fell incensed points +Of mighty opposites. + +HORATIO Why, what a king is this! + +HAMLET +Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon-- +He that hath killed my king and whored my mother, +Popped in between th' election and my hopes, +Thrown out his angle for my proper life, +And with such cozenage--is 't not perfect +conscience +To quit him with this arm? And is 't not to be +damned +To let this canker of our nature come +In further evil? + +HORATIO +It must be shortly known to him from England +What is the issue of the business there. + +HAMLET +It will be short. The interim's mine, +And a man's life's no more than to say "one." +But I am very sorry, good Horatio, +That to Laertes I forgot myself, +For by the image of my cause I see +The portraiture of his. I'll court his favors. +But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me +Into a tow'ring passion. + +HORATIO Peace, who comes here? + +[Enter Osric, a courtier.] + + +OSRIC Your Lordship is right welcome back to +Denmark. + +HAMLET I humbly thank you, sir. [Aside to Horatio.] +Dost know this waterfly? + +HORATIO, [aside to Hamlet] No, my good lord. + +HAMLET, [aside to Horatio] Thy state is the more gracious, +for 'tis a vice to know him. He hath much +land, and fertile. Let a beast be lord of beasts and his +crib shall stand at the king's mess. 'Tis a chough, +but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt. + +OSRIC Sweet lord, if your Lordship were at leisure, I +should impart a thing to you from his Majesty. + +HAMLET I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of +spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use: 'tis for the +head. + +OSRIC I thank your Lordship; it is very hot. + +HAMLET No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is +northerly. + +OSRIC It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed. + +HAMLET But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for +my complexion. + +OSRIC Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry, as +'twere--I cannot tell how. My lord, his Majesty +bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager +on your head. Sir, this is the matter-- + +HAMLET I beseech you, remember. [He motions to +Osric to put on his hat.] + +OSRIC Nay, good my lord, for my ease, in good faith. +Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes--believe +me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent +differences, of very soft society and great showing. +Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or +calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the +continent of what part a gentleman would see. + +HAMLET Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in +you, though I know to divide him inventorially +would dozy th' arithmetic of memory, and yet but +yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the +verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great +article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness +as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his +mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, +nothing more. + +OSRIC Your Lordship speaks most infallibly of him. + +HAMLET The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the +gentleman in our more rawer breath? + +OSRIC Sir? + +HORATIO Is 't not possible to understand in another +tongue? You will to 't, sir, really. + +HAMLET, [to Osric] What imports the nomination of +this gentleman? + +OSRIC Of Laertes? + +HORATIO His purse is empty already; all 's golden words +are spent. + +HAMLET Of him, sir. + +OSRIC I know you are not ignorant-- + +HAMLET I would you did, sir. Yet, in faith, if you did, it +would not much approve me. Well, sir? + +OSRIC You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes +is-- + +HAMLET I dare not confess that, lest I should compare +with him in excellence. But to know a man well +were to know himself. + +OSRIC I mean, sir, for his weapon. But in the imputation +laid on him by them, in his meed he's +unfellowed. + +HAMLET What's his weapon? + +OSRIC Rapier and dagger. + +HAMLET That's two of his weapons. But, well-- + +OSRIC The King, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary +horses, against the which he has impawned, as I +take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their +assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so. Three of the +carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very +responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and +of very liberal conceit. + +HAMLET What call you the "carriages"? + +HORATIO I knew you must be edified by the margent +ere you had done. + +OSRIC The carriages, sir, are the hangers. + +HAMLET The phrase would be more germane to the +matter if we could carry a cannon by our sides. I +would it might be "hangers" till then. But on. Six +Barbary horses against six French swords, their +assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages-- +that's the French bet against the Danish. Why is this +all "impawned," as you call it? + +OSRIC The King, sir, hath laid, sir, that in a dozen +passes between yourself and him, he shall not +exceed you three hits. He hath laid on twelve for +nine, and it would come to immediate trial if your +Lordship would vouchsafe the answer. + +HAMLET How if I answer no? + +OSRIC I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person +in trial. + +HAMLET Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his +Majesty, it is the breathing time of day with me. Let +the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the +King hold his purpose, I will win for him, an I can. +If not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd +hits. + +OSRIC Shall I deliver you e'en so? + +HAMLET To this effect, sir, after what flourish your +nature will. + +OSRIC I commend my duty to your Lordship. + +HAMLET Yours. [Osric exits.] He does well to commend +it himself. There are no tongues else for 's +turn. + +HORATIO This lapwing runs away with the shell on his +head. + +HAMLET He did comply, sir, with his dug before he +sucked it. Thus has he (and many more of the same +breed that I know the drossy age dotes on) only got +the tune of the time, and, out of an habit of +encounter, a kind of yeasty collection, which carries +them through and through the most fanned +and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to +their trial, the bubbles are out. + +[Enter a Lord.] + + +LORD My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by +young Osric, who brings back to him that you +attend him in the hall. He sends to know if your +pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will +take longer time. + +HAMLET I am constant to my purposes. They follow +the King's pleasure. If his fitness speaks, mine is +ready now or whensoever, provided I be so able as +now. + +LORD The King and Queen and all are coming down. + +HAMLET In happy time. + +LORD The Queen desires you to use some gentle +entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play. + +HAMLET She well instructs me. [Lord exits.] + +HORATIO You will lose, my lord. + +HAMLET I do not think so. Since he went into France, I +have been in continual practice. I shall win at the +odds; but thou wouldst not think how ill all's here +about my heart. But it is no matter. + +HORATIO Nay, good my lord-- + +HAMLET It is but foolery, but it is such a kind of +gaingiving as would perhaps trouble a woman. + +HORATIO If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will +forestall their repair hither and say you are not fit. + +HAMLET Not a whit. We defy augury. There is a +special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be +now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be +now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The +readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves +knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be. + +[A table prepared. Enter Trumpets, Drums, and Officers +with cushions, King, Queen, Osric, and all the state, +foils, daggers, flagons of wine, and Laertes.] + + +KING +Come, Hamlet, come and take this hand from me. +[He puts Laertes' hand into Hamlet's.] + +HAMLET, [to Laertes] +Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong; +But pardon 't as you are a gentleman. This presence +knows, +And you must needs have heard, how I am punished +With a sore distraction. What I have done +That might your nature, honor, and exception +Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness. +Was 't Hamlet wronged Laertes? Never Hamlet. +If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away, +And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes, +Then Hamlet does it not; Hamlet denies it. +Who does it, then? His madness. If 't be so, +Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged; +His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy. +Sir, in this audience +Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil +Free me so far in your most generous thoughts +That I have shot my arrow o'er the house +And hurt my brother. + +LAERTES I am satisfied in nature, +Whose motive in this case should stir me most +To my revenge; but in my terms of honor +I stand aloof and will no reconcilement +Till by some elder masters of known honor +I have a voice and precedent of peace +To keep my name ungored. But till that time +I do receive your offered love like love +And will not wrong it. + +HAMLET I embrace it freely +And will this brothers' wager frankly play.-- +Give us the foils. Come on. + +LAERTES Come, one for me. + +HAMLET +I'll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance +Your skill shall, like a star i' th' darkest night, +Stick fiery off indeed. + +LAERTES You mock me, sir. + +HAMLET No, by this hand. + +KING +Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet, +You know the wager? + +HAMLET Very well, my lord. +Your Grace has laid the odds o' th' weaker side. + +KING +I do not fear it; I have seen you both. +But, since he is better, we have therefore odds. + +LAERTES +This is too heavy. Let me see another. + +HAMLET +This likes me well. These foils have all a length? + +OSRIC Ay, my good lord. +[Prepare to play.] + +KING +Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.-- +If Hamlet give the first or second hit +Or quit in answer of the third exchange, +Let all the battlements their ordnance fire. +The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath, +And in the cup an union shall he throw, +Richer than that which four successive kings +In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups, +And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, +The trumpet to the cannoneer without, +The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth, +"Now the King drinks to Hamlet." Come, begin. +And you, the judges, bear a wary eye. +[Trumpets the while.] + +HAMLET Come on, sir. + +LAERTES Come, my lord. [They play.] + +HAMLET One. + +LAERTES No. + +HAMLET Judgment! + +OSRIC A hit, a very palpable hit. + +LAERTES Well, again. + +KING +Stay, give me drink.--Hamlet, this pearl is thine. +Here's to thy health. +[He drinks and then drops the pearl in the cup.] +[Drum, trumpets, and shot.] +Give him the cup. + +HAMLET +I'll play this bout first. Set it by awhile. +Come. [They play.] Another hit. What say you? + +LAERTES +A touch, a touch. I do confess 't. + +KING +Our son shall win. + +QUEEN He's fat and scant of breath.-- +Here, Hamlet, take my napkin; rub thy brows. +The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet. +[She lifts the cup.] + +HAMLET Good madam. + +KING Gertrude, do not drink. + +QUEEN +I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. [She drinks.] + +KING, [aside] +It is the poisoned cup. It is too late. + +HAMLET +I dare not drink yet, madam--by and by. + +QUEEN Come, let me wipe thy face. + +LAERTES, [to Claudius] +My lord, I'll hit him now. + +KING I do not think 't. + +LAERTES, [aside] +And yet it is almost against my conscience. + +HAMLET +Come, for the third, Laertes. You do but dally. +I pray you pass with your best violence. +I am afeard you make a wanton of me. + +LAERTES Say you so? Come on. [Play.] + +OSRIC Nothing neither way. + +LAERTES Have at you now! +[Laertes wounds Hamlet. Then in scuffling they change +rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes.] + +KING Part them. They are incensed. + +HAMLET Nay, come again. +[The Queen falls.] + +OSRIC Look to the Queen there, ho! + +HORATIO +They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord? + +OSRIC How is 't, Laertes? + +LAERTES +Why as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric. +[He falls.] +I am justly killed with mine own treachery. + +HAMLET +How does the Queen? + +KING She swoons to see them bleed. + +QUEEN +No, no, the drink, the drink! O, my dear Hamlet! +The drink, the drink! I am poisoned. [She dies.] + +HAMLET +O villainy! Ho! Let the door be locked. [Osric exits.] +Treachery! Seek it out. + +LAERTES +It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain. +No med'cine in the world can do thee good. +In thee there is not half an hour's life. +The treacherous instrument is in thy hand, +Unbated and envenomed. The foul practice +Hath turned itself on me. Lo, here I lie, +Never to rise again. Thy mother's poisoned. +I can no more. The King, the King's to blame. + +HAMLET +The point envenomed too! Then, venom, to thy +work. [Hurts the King.] + +ALL Treason, treason! + +KING +O, yet defend me, friends! I am but hurt. + +HAMLET +Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane, +Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? +[Forcing him to drink the poison.] +Follow my mother. [King dies.] + +LAERTES He is justly served. +It is a poison tempered by himself. +Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. +Mine and my father's death come not upon thee, +Nor thine on me. [Dies.] + +HAMLET +Heaven make thee free of it. I follow thee.-- +I am dead, Horatio.--Wretched queen, adieu.-- +You that look pale and tremble at this chance, +That are but mutes or audience to this act, +Had I but time (as this fell sergeant, Death, +Is strict in his arrest), O, I could tell you-- +But let it be.--Horatio, I am dead. +Thou livest; report me and my cause aright +To the unsatisfied. + +HORATIO Never believe it. +I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. +Here's yet some liquor left. [He picks up the cup.] + +HAMLET As thou 'rt a man, +Give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I'll ha 't. +O God, Horatio, what a wounded name, +Things standing thus unknown, shall I leave behind +me! +If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, +Absent thee from felicity awhile +And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain +To tell my story. +[A march afar off and shot within.] +What warlike noise is this? + +[Enter Osric.] + + +OSRIC +Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, +To th' ambassadors of England gives +This warlike volley. + +HAMLET O, I die, Horatio! +The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. +I cannot live to hear the news from England. +But I do prophesy th' election lights +On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice. +So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less, +Which have solicited--the rest is silence. +O, O, O, O! [Dies.] + +HORATIO +Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, +And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. +[March within.] +Why does the drum come hither? + +[Enter Fortinbras with the English Ambassadors with +Drum, Colors, and Attendants.] + + +FORTINBRAS Where is this sight? + +HORATIO What is it you would see? +If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search. + +FORTINBRAS +This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death, +What feast is toward in thine eternal cell +That thou so many princes at a shot +So bloodily hast struck? + +AMBASSADOR The sight is dismal, +And our affairs from England come too late. +The ears are senseless that should give us hearing +To tell him his commandment is fulfilled, +That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. +Where should we have our thanks? + +HORATIO Not from his +mouth, +Had it th' ability of life to thank you. +He never gave commandment for their death. +But since, so jump upon this bloody question, +You from the Polack wars, and you from England, +Are here arrived, give order that these bodies +High on a stage be placed to the view, +And let me speak to th' yet unknowing world +How these things came about. So shall you hear +Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, +Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, +Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, +And, in this upshot, purposes mistook +Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I +Truly deliver. + +FORTINBRAS Let us haste to hear it +And call the noblest to the audience. +For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. +I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, +Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me. + +HORATIO +Of that I shall have also cause to speak, +And from his mouth whose voice will draw on +more. +But let this same be presently performed +Even while men's minds are wild, lest more +mischance +On plots and errors happen. + +FORTINBRAS Let four captains +Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, +For he was likely, had he been put on, +To have proved most royal; and for his passage, +The soldier's music and the rite of war +Speak loudly for him. +Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this +Becomes the field but here shows much amiss. +Go, bid the soldiers shoot. +[They exit, marching, after the which, a peal of +ordnance are shot off.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df85628 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4548 @@ +Henry IV, Part I +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-iv-part-1/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING HENRY IV, formerly Henry Bolingbroke +PRINCE HAL, Prince of Wales and heir to the throne (also called Harry and Harry Monmouth) +LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, younger son of King Henry +EARL OF WESTMORELAND +SIR WALTER BLUNT +HOTSPUR (Sir Henry, or Harry, Percy) +LADY PERCY (also called Kate) +EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND, Henry Percy, Hotspur's father +EARL OF WORCESTER, Thomas Percy, Hotspur's uncle +EDMUND MORTIMER, earl of March +LADY MORTIMER (also called "the Welsh lady") +OWEN GLENDOWER, a Welsh lord, father of Lady Mortimer +DOUGLAS (Archibald, earl of Douglas) +ARCHBISHOP (Richard Scroop, archbishop of York) +SIR MICHAEL, a priest or knight associated with the archbishop +SIR RICHARD VERNON, an English knight +SIR JOHN FALSTAFF +POINS (also called Edward, Yedward, and Ned) +BARDOLPH +PETO +GADSHILL, setter for the robbers +HOSTESS of the tavern (also called Mistress Quickly) +VINTNER, or keeper of the tavern +FRANCIS, an apprentice tapster +Carriers, Ostlers, Chamberlain, Travelers, Sheriff, Servants, Lords, Attendants, Messengers, Soldiers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the King, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl +of Westmoreland, with others.] + + +KING +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood. +No more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flow'rets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces. Those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery, +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies. +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulcher of Christ-- +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight-- +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy, +Whose arms were molded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walked those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go. +Therefor we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight, when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news, +Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered, +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation +By those Welshwomen done, as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This matched with other did, my gracious lord. +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north, and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood Day the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald, +That ever valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, where they did spend +A sad and bloody hour-- +As by discharge of their artillery +And shape of likelihood the news was told, +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING +Here is a dear, a true-industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, +Stained with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours, +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited; +Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights, +Balked in their own blood, did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners Hotspur took +Mordake, Earl of Fife and eldest son +To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Atholl, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith. +And is not this an honorable spoil? +A gallant prize? Ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, it is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING +Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of Honor's tongue, +Amongst a grove the very straightest plant, +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride; +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonor stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O, that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And called mine "Percy," his "Plantagenet"! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners +Which he in this adventure hath surprised +To his own use he keeps, and sends me word +I shall have none but Mordake, Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching. This is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects, +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING +But I have sent for him to answer this. +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor. So inform the lords. +But come yourself with speed to us again, +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND I will, my liege. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old +sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and +sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast +forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst +truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with +the time of the day? Unless hours were cups of +sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues +of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, +and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in +flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou +shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time +of the day. + +FALSTAFF Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we +that take purses go by the moon and the seven +stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wand'ring +knight so fair. And I prithee, sweet wag, when thou +art king, as God save thy Grace--Majesty, I should +say, for grace thou wilt have none-- + +PRINCE What, none? + +FALSTAFF No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +be prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art king, +let not us that are squires of the night's body be +called thieves of the day's beauty. Let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon, and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble +and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance +we steal. + +PRINCE Thou sayest well, and it holds well too, for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by +the moon. As for proof now: a purse of gold most +resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning, got with +swearing "Lay by" and spent with crying "Bring +in"; now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder, +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the +gallows. + +FALSTAFF By the Lord, thou sayst true, lad. And is not +my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. +And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of +durance? + +FALSTAFF How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy +quips and thy quiddities? What a plague have I to +do with a buff jerkin? + +PRINCE Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess +of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning +many a time and oft. + +PRINCE Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF No, I'll give thee thy due. Thou hast paid all +there. + +PRINCE Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would +stretch, and where it would not, I have used my +credit. + +FALSTAFF Yea, and so used it that were it not here +apparent that thou art heir apparent--But I prithee, +sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in +England when thou art king? And resolution thus +fubbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father Antic +the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a +thief. + +PRINCE No, thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave +judge. + +PRINCE Thou judgest false already. I mean thou shalt +have the hanging of the thieves, and so become a +rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF Well, Hal, well, and in some sort it jumps +with my humor as well as waiting in the court, I +can tell you. + +PRINCE For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as +melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy +of Moorditch? + +FALSTAFF Thou hast the most unsavory similes, and +art indeed the most comparative, rascaliest, sweet +young prince. But, Hal, I prithee trouble me no +more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew +where a commodity of good names were to be +bought. An old lord of the council rated me the +other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked +him not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I +regarded him not, and yet he talked wisely, and in +the street, too. + +PRINCE Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the +streets and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art +indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done +much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it. +Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now +am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than +one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I +will give it over. By the Lord, an I do not, I am a +villain. I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF Zounds, where thou wilt, lad. I'll make one. +An I do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE I see a good amendment of life in thee, from +praying to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no sin +for a man to labor in his vocation. + +[Enter Poins.] + +Poins!--Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried "Stand!" to +a true man. + +PRINCE Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS Good morrow, sweet Hal.--What says Monsieur +Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-and-Sugar? +Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about +thy soul that thou soldest him on Good Friday last +for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE Sir John stands to his word. The devil shall +have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs. He will give the devil his due. + +POINS, [to Falstaff] Then art thou damned for keeping +thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE Else he had been damned for cozening the +devil. + +POINS But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by +four o'clock early at Gad's Hill, there are pilgrims +going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses. I have vizards for +you all. You have horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies +tonight in Rochester. I have bespoke supper tomorrow +night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure as +sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of +crowns. If you will not, tarry at home and be +hanged. + +FALSTAFF Hear you, Yedward, if I tarry at home and +go not, I'll hang you for going. + +POINS You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF There's neither honesty, manhood, nor +good fellowship in thee, nor thou cam'st not of +the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten +shillings. + +PRINCE Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then when thou +art king. + +PRINCE I care not. + +POINS Sir John, I prithee leave the Prince and me +alone. I will lay him down such reasons for this +adventure that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion, +and him the ears of profiting, that what thou +speakest may move, and what he hears may be +believed, that the true prince may, for recreation +sake, prove a false thief, for the poor abuses of the +time want countenance. Farewell. You shall find me +in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE Farewell, thou latter spring. Farewell, Allhallown +summer. [Falstaff exits.] + +POINS Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +tomorrow. I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Peto, Bardolph, and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already +waylaid. Yourself and I will not be there. And when +they have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, +cut this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our +pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon +the exploit themselves, which they shall have no +sooner achieved but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment +to be ourselves. + +POINS Tut, our horses they shall not see; I'll tie them +in the wood. Our vizards we will change after we +leave them. And, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward +garments. + +PRINCE Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty at least +he fought with, what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lives the jest. + +PRINCE Well, I'll go with thee. Provide us all things +necessary and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap. +There I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS Farewell, my lord. [Poins exits.] + +PRINCE +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humor of your idleness. +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wondered at +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapors that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work, +But when they seldom come, they wished-for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glitt'ring o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend to make offense a skill, +Redeeming time when men think least I will. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, +and Sir Walter Blunt, with others.] + + +KING, [to Northumberland, Worcester, and Hotspur] +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me, for accordingly +You tread upon my patience. But be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be feared, than my condition, +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it, +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND My lord-- + +KING +Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye. +O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us. When we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. +[Worcester exits.] +You were about to speak. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your Highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is delivered to your Majesty. +Either envy, therefore, or misprision +Is guilty of this fault, and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dressed, +Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped +Showed like a stubble land at harvest home. +He was perfumed like a milliner, +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took 't away again, +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talked. +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He questioned me, amongst the rest demanded +My prisoners in your Majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pestered with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience +Answered neglectingly I know not what-- +He should, or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns, and drums, and wounds--God save the +mark!-- +And telling me the sovereignest thing on Earth +Was parmacety for an inward bruise, +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villainous saltpeter should be digged +Out of the bowels of the harmless Earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed +So cowardly, and but for these vile guns +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answered indirectly, as I said, +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high Majesty. + +BLUNT +The circumstance considered, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer, +Who, on my soul, hath willfully betrayed +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damned Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, that Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we buy treason and indent with fears +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve, +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war. To prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank +In single opposition hand to hand +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower. +Three times they breathed, and three times did they +drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood, +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Blood-stained with these valiant combatants. +Never did bare and rotten policy +Color her working with such deadly wounds, +Nor never could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly. +Then let not him be slandered with revolt. + +KING +Thou dost belie him, Percy; thou dost belie him. +He never did encounter with Glendower. +I tell thee, he durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer. +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you.--My lord Northumberland, +We license your departure with your son.-- +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. +[King exits with Blunt and others.] + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them. I will after straight +And tell him so, for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? Stay and pause awhile. +Here comes your uncle. + +[Enter Worcester.] + + +HOTSPUR Speak of Mortimer? +Zounds, I will speak of him, and let my soul +Want mercy if I do not join with him. +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the downtrod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad. + +WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will forsooth have all my prisoners, +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek looked pale, +And on my face he turned an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +WORCESTER +I cannot blame him. Was not he proclaimed +By Richard, that dead is, the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation. +And then it was when the unhappy king-- +Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he, intercepted, did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you. Did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay then, I cannot blame his cousin king +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation--shall it be +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king. +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf +(As both of you, God pardon it, have done) +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken +That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off +By him for whom these shames you underwent? +No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banished honors and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths. +Therefore I say-- + +WORCESTER Peace, cousin, say no more. +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim! +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honor cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple. O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to Worcester] +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap +To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honor by the locks, +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival all her dignities. +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend.-- +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +WORCESTER Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners-- + +HOTSPUR I'll keep them all. +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them. +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not. +I'll keep them, by this hand! + +WORCESTER You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes: +Those prisoners you shall keep-- + +HOTSPUR Nay, I will. That's flat! +He said he would not ransom Mortimer, +Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer. +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll hollo "Mortimer." +Nay, I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but "Mortimer," and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +WORCESTER Hear you, cousin, a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke. +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales-- +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance-- +I would have him poisoned with a pot of ale. + +WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman. I'll talk to you +When you are better tempered to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to Hotspur] +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with +rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time--what do you call the place? +A plague upon it! It is in Gloucestershire. +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York, where I first bowed my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke. +'Sblood, when you and he came back from +Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND At Berkeley Castle. + +HOTSPUR You say true. +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me: +"Look when his infant fortune came to age," +And "gentle Harry Percy," and "kind cousin." +O, the devil take such cozeners!--God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale. I have done. + +WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again. +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR I have done, i' faith. + +WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners: +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland, which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured +Will easily be granted.--You, my lord, +Your son in Scotland being thus employed, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate well beloved, +The Archbishop. + +HOTSPUR Of York, is it not? + +WORCESTER True, who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted, and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it. Upon my life it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot. +And then the power of Scotland and of York +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +WORCESTER And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed. + +WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed +To save our heads by raising of a head, +For bear ourselves as even as we can, +The King will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home. +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does. We'll be revenged on him. + +WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell. No further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer, +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, adieu. O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand.] + + +FIRST CARRIER Heigh-ho! An it be not four by the day, +I'll be hanged. Charles's Wain is over the new +chimney, and yet our horse not packed.--What, +ostler! + +OSTLER, [within] Anon, anon. + +FIRST CARRIER I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle. Put a +few flocks in the point. Poor jade is wrung in the +withers out of all cess. + +[Enter another Carrier, with a lantern.] + + +SECOND CARRIER Peas and beans are as dank here as a +dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the +bots. This house is turned upside down since Robin +ostler died. + +FIRST CARRIER Poor fellow never joyed since the price +of oats rose. It was the death of him. + +SECOND CARRIER I think this be the most villainous +house in all London road for fleas. I am stung like a +tench. + +FIRST CARRIER Like a tench? By the Mass, there is +ne'er a king christen could be better bit than I have +been since the first cock. + +SECOND CARRIER Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, +and then we leak in your chimney, and your +chamber-lye breeds fleas like a loach. + +FIRST CARRIER What, ostler, come away and be +hanged. Come away. + +SECOND CARRIER I have a gammon of bacon and two +races of ginger to be delivered as far as Charing +Cross. + +FIRST CARRIER God's body, the turkeys in my pannier +are quite starved.--What, ostler! A plague on thee! +Hast thou never an eye in thy head? Canst not hear? +An 'twere not as good deed as drink to break the +pate on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be +hanged. Hast no faith in thee? + +[Enter Gadshill.] + + +GADSHILL Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +FIRST CARRIER I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL I prithee, lend me thy lantern to see my +gelding in the stable. + +FIRST CARRIER Nay, by God, soft. I know a trick worth +two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL, [to Second Carrier] I pray thee, lend me +thine. + +SECOND CARRIER Ay, when, canst tell? "Lend me thy +lantern," quoth he. Marry, I'll see thee hanged +first. + +GADSHILL Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to +come to London? + +SECOND CARRIER Time enough to go to bed with a +candle, I warrant thee. Come, neighbor Mugs, +we'll call up the gentlemen. They will along with +company, for they have great charge. +[Carriers exit.] + +GADSHILL What ho, chamberlain! + +[Enter Chamberlain.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN At hand, quoth pickpurse. + +GADSHILL That's even as fair as "at hand, quoth the +Chamberlain," for thou variest no more from +picking of purses than giving direction doth from +laboring: thou layest the plot how. + +CHAMBERLAIN Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds +current that I told you yesternight: there's a franklin +in the Wild of Kent hath brought three hundred +marks with him in gold. I heard him tell it to one of +his company last night at supper--a kind of auditor, +one that hath abundance of charge too, God knows +what. They are up already and call for eggs and +butter. They will away presently. + +GADSHILL Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +CHAMBERLAIN No, I'll none of it. I pray thee, keep that +for the hangman, for I know thou worshipest Saint +Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL What talkest thou to me of the hangman? If +I hang, I'll make a fat pair of gallows, for if I hang, +old Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is +no starveling. Tut, there are other Troyans that +thou dream'st not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace, that +would, if matters should be looked into, for their +own credit sake make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land-rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms, +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters +and great oneyers, such as can hold in, such +as will strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner +than drink, and drink sooner than pray, and yet, +zounds, I lie, for they pray continually to their saint +the commonwealth, or rather not pray to her but +prey on her, for they ride up and down on her and +make her their boots. + +CHAMBERLAIN What, the commonwealth their boots? +Will she hold out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL She will, she will. Justice hath liquored her. +We steal as in a castle, cocksure. We have the +receipt of fern seed; we walk invisible. + +CHAMBERLAIN Nay, by my faith, I think you are more +beholding to the night than to fern seed for your +walking invisible. + +GADSHILL Give me thy hand. Thou shalt have a share in +our purchase, as I am a true man. + +CHAMBERLAIN Nay, rather let me have it as you are a +false thief. + +GADSHILL Go to. Homo is a common name to all men. +Bid the ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. +Farewell, you muddy knave. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Prince, Poins, Bardolph, and Peto.] + + +POINS Come, shelter, shelter! I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE Stand close. [Poins, Bardolph, and Peto exit.] + +[Enter Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE Peace, you fat-kidneyed rascal. What a brawling +dost thou keep! + +FALSTAFF Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE He is walked up to the top of the hill. I'll go +seek him. [Prince exits.] + +FALSTAFF I am accursed to rob in that thief's company. +The rascal hath removed my horse and tied him I +know not where. If I travel but four foot by the +square further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I +doubt not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have forsworn +his company hourly any time this two-and-twenty +years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged. It +could not be else: I have drunk medicines.--Poins! +Hal! A plague upon you both.--Bardolph! Peto!-- +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere not as +good a deed as drink to turn true man and to leave +these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that ever +chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven ground +is threescore and ten miles afoot with me, and the +stony-hearted villains know it well enough. A plague +upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! +[(They whistle, within.)] Whew! A plague upon you +all! + +[Enter the Prince, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph.] + +Give me my horse, you rogues. Give me my horse +and be hanged! + +PRINCE Peace, you fat guts! Lie down, lay thine ear +close to the ground, and list if thou canst hear the +tread of travelers. + +FALSTAFF Have you any levers to lift me up again being +down? 'Sblood, I'll not bear my own flesh so +far afoot again for all the coin in thy father's Exchequer. +What a plague mean you to colt me +thus? + +PRINCE Thou liest. Thou art not colted; thou art +uncolted. + +FALSTAFF I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my +horse, good king's son. + +PRINCE Out, you rogue! Shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF Hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have +not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison--when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +[Enter Gadshill.] + + +GADSHILL Stand. + +FALSTAFF So I do, against my will. + +POINS O, 'tis our setter. I know his voice. + +BARDOLPH What news? + +GADSHILL Case you, case you. On with your vizards. +There's money of the King's coming down the hill. +'Tis going to the King's Exchequer. + +FALSTAFF You lie, you rogue. 'Tis going to the King's +Tavern. + +GADSHILL There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF To be hanged. + +PRINCE Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow +lane. Ned Poins and I will walk lower. If they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather, +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge. +When thou need'st him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF Now cannot I strike him, if I should be +hanged. + +PRINCE, [aside to Poins] Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS, [aside to Prince] Here, hard by. Stand close. +[The Prince and Poins exit.] + +FALSTAFF Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, +say I. Every man to his business. +[They step aside.] + +[Enter the Travelers.] + + +FIRST TRAVELER Come, neighbor, the boy shall lead +our horses down the hill. We'll walk afoot awhile +and ease our legs. + +THIEVES, [advancing] Stand! + +TRAVELERS Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF Strike! Down with them! Cut the villains' +throats! Ah, whoreson caterpillars, bacon-fed +knaves, they hate us youth. Down with them! +Fleece them! + +TRAVELERS O, we are undone, both we and ours +forever! + +FALSTAFF Hang, you gorbellied knaves! Are you undone? +No, you fat chuffs. I would your store were +here. On, bacons, on! What, you knaves, young men +must live. You are grandjurors, are you? We'll jure +you, faith. +[Here they rob them and bind them. They all exit.] + +[Enter the Prince and Poins, disguised.] + + +PRINCE The thieves have bound the true men. Now +could thou and I rob the thieves and go merrily to +London, it would be argument for a week, laughter +for a month, and a good jest forever. + +POINS Stand close, I hear them coming. +[They step aside.] + +[Enter the Thieves again.] + + +FALSTAFF Come, my masters, let us share, and then to +horse before day. An the Prince and Poins be not +two arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring. +There's no more valor in that Poins than in a wild +duck. +[As they are sharing, the Prince +and Poins set upon them.] + +PRINCE Your money! + +POINS Villains! +[They all run away, and Falstaff, after a blow or two, +runs away too, leaving the booty behind them.] + +PRINCE +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse. +The thieves are all scattered, and possessed with +fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other. +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along. +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS How the fat rogue roared! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Hotspur alone, reading a letter.] + + +HOTSPUR But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be +well contented to be there, in respect of the love I +bear your house. He could be contented; why is he +not, then? In respect of the love he bears our +house--he shows in this he loves his own barn +better than he loves our house. Let me see some +more. The purpose you undertake is dangerous. +Why, that's certain. 'Tis dangerous to take a cold, +to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my Lord Fool, out +of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. +The purpose you undertake is dangerous, the friends +you have named uncertain, the time itself unsorted, +and your whole plot too light for the counterpoise +of so great an opposition. Say you so, say you so? +I say unto you again, you are a shallow, cowardly +hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By +the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid, +our friends true and constant--a good plot, +good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent +plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited +rogue is this! Why, my Lord of York commends +the plot and the general course of the action. +Zounds, an I were now by this rascal, I could brain +him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my +uncle, and myself, Lord Edmund Mortimer, my +Lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not +besides the Douglas? Have I not all their letters to +meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month, +and are they not some of them set forward already? +What a pagan rascal is this--an infidel! Ha, you +shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold +heart, will he to the King and lay open all our +proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to +buffets for moving such a dish of skim milk with so +honorable an action! Hang him, let him tell the +King. We are prepared. I will set forward tonight. + +[Enter his Lady.] + +How now, Kate? I must leave you within these two +hours. + +LADY PERCY +O my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offense have I this fortnight been +A banished woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is 't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars, +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed, +Cry "Courage! To the field!" And thou hast talked +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, +And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream, +And in thy face strange motions have appeared, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are +these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +[Enter a Servant.] + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +SERVANT He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +SERVANT +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? A roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +SERVANT +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR That roan shall be my throne. +Well, I will back him straight. O, Esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. +[Servant exits.] + +LADY PERCY But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are tossed with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise; but if you go-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask. +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR Away! +Away, you trifler. Love, I love thee not. +I care not for thee, Kate. This is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips. +We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns, +And pass them current too.--Gods me, my horse!-- +What say'st thou, Kate? What wouldst thou have +with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? Do you not indeed? +Well, do not then, for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am a-horseback I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate, +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout. +Whither I must, I must; and to conclude +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife; constant you are, +But yet a woman; and for secrecy +No lady closer, for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know, +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY How? So far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate, +Whither I go, thither shall you go too. +Today will I set forth, tomorrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY It must, of force. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Prince and Poins.] + + +PRINCE Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room and +lend me thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE With three or four loggerheads amongst three +or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very +bass string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their +Christian names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. They +take it already upon their salvation that though I be +but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy, +and tell me flatly I am no proud jack, like Falstaff, +but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy--by +the Lord, so they call me--and when I am king of +England, I shall command all the good lads in +Eastcheap. They call drinking deep "dyeing scarlet," +and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry "Hem!" and bid you "Play it off!" To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much +honor that thou wert not with me in this action; but, +sweet Ned--to sweeten which name of Ned, I give +thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now +into my hand by an underskinker, one that never +spake other English in his life than "Eight shillings +and sixpence," and "You are welcome," with this +shrill addition, "Anon, anon, sir.--Score a pint of +bastard in the Half-moon," or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do +thou stand in some by-room while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar, and +do thou never leave calling "Francis," that his tale +to me may be nothing but "Anon." Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. [Poins exits.] + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +PRINCE Thou art perfect. + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +[Enter Francis, the Drawer.] + + +FRANCIS Anon, anon, sir.--Look down into the Pomgarnet, +Ralph. + +PRINCE Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS My lord? + +PRINCE How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +FRANCIS Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE Five year! By 'r Lady, a long lease for the +clinking of pewter! But, Francis, darest thou be +so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture, +and show it a fair pair of heels, and run +from it? + +FRANCIS O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books +in England, I could find in my heart-- + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +FRANCIS Anon, sir. + +PRINCE How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS Let me see. About Michaelmas next, I shall +be-- + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +FRANCIS Anon, sir.--Pray, stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE Nay, but hark you, Francis, for the sugar thou +gavest me--'twas a pennyworth, was 't not? + +FRANCIS O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE I will give thee for it a thousand pound. Ask +me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +FRANCIS Anon, anon. + +PRINCE Anon, Francis? No, Francis. But tomorrow, +Francis; or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, +when thou wilt. But, Francis-- + +FRANCIS My lord? + +PRINCE Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch-- + +FRANCIS O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE Why then, your brown bastard is your only +drink, for look you, Francis, your white canvas +doublet will sully. In Barbary, sir, it cannot come to +so much. + +FRANCIS What, sir? + +POINS, [within] Francis! + +PRINCE Away, you rogue! Dost thou not hear them +call? +[Here they both call him. The Drawer stands amazed, +not knowing which way to go.] + +[Enter Vintner.] + + +VINTNER What, stand'st thou still and hear'st such a +calling? Look to the guests within. [Francis exits.] +My lord, old Sir John with half a dozen more are at +the door. Shall I let them in? + +PRINCE Let them alone awhile, and then open the +door. [Vintner exits.] Poins! + +[Enter Poins.] + + +POINS Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are +at the door. Shall we be merry? + +POINS As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark you, +what cunning match have you made with this jest +of the drawer. Come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE I am now of all humors that have showed +themselves humors since the old days of Goodman +Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve +o'clock at midnight. + +[Enter Francis, in haste.] + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS Anon, anon, sir. [Francis exits.] + +PRINCE That ever this fellow should have fewer words +than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His +industry is upstairs and downstairs, his eloquence +the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's +mind, the Hotspur of the north, he that kills me +some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, +washes his hands, and says to his wife "Fie upon +this quiet life! I want work." "O my sweet Harry," +says she, "how many hast thou killed today?" +"Give my roan horse a drench," says he, and answers +"Some fourteen," an hour after. "A trifle, a +trifle." I prithee, call in Falstaff. I'll play Percy, +and that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer +his wife. "Rivo!" says the drunkard. Call in +Ribs, call in Tallow. + +[Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Peto, Bardolph; +and Francis, with wine.] + + +POINS Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance +too! Marry and amen!--Give me a cup of +sack, boy.--Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew netherstocks +and mend them, and foot them too. A plague +of all cowards!--Give me a cup of sack, rogue!--Is +there no virtue extant? [He drinketh.] + +PRINCE Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of +butter--pitiful-hearted Titan!--that melted at the +sweet tale of the sun's? If thou didst, then behold +that compound. + +FALSTAFF, [to Francis] You rogue, here's lime in this +sack too.--There is nothing but roguery to be +found in villainous man, yet a coward is worse than +a cup of sack with lime in it. A villainous coward! Go +thy ways, old Jack. Die when thou wilt. If manhood, +good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the +Earth, then am I a shotten herring. There lives not +three good men unhanged in England, and one of +them is fat and grows old, God help the while. A bad +world, I say. I would I were a weaver. I could sing +psalms, or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say +still. + +PRINCE How now, woolsack, what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll +never wear hair on my face more. You, Prince of +Wales! + +PRINCE Why, you whoreson round man, what's the +matter? + +FALSTAFF Are not you a coward? Answer me to that-- +and Poins there? + +POINS Zounds, you fat paunch, an you call me coward, +by the Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF I call thee coward? I'll see thee damned ere +I call thee coward, but I would give a thousand +pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are +straight enough in the shoulders you care not who +sees your back. Call you that backing of your +friends? A plague upon such backing! Give me them +that will face me.--Give me a cup of sack.--I am a +rogue if I drunk today. + +PRINCE O villain, thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunk'st last. + +FALSTAFF All is one for that. [(He drinketh.)] A plague of +all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF What's the matter? There be four of us here +have ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE Where is it, Jack, where is it? + +FALSTAFF Where is it? Taken from us it is. A hundred +upon poor four of us. + +PRINCE What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword +with a dozen of them two hours together. I have +'scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through +the doublet, four through the hose, my buckler +cut through and through, my sword hacked like +a handsaw. Ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man. All would not do. A plague of +all cowards! Let them speak. [Pointing to Gadshill, +Bardolph, and Peto.] If they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains, and the sons of +darkness. + +PRINCE Speak, sirs, how was it? + +BARDOLPH We four set upon some dozen. + +FALSTAFF Sixteen at least, my lord. + +BARDOLPH And bound them. + +PETO No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF You rogue, they were bound, every man of +them, or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +BARDOLPH As we were sharing, some six or seven +fresh men set upon us. + +FALSTAFF And unbound the rest, and then come in the +other. + +PRINCE What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF All? I know not what you call all, but if I +fought not with fifty of them I am a bunch of +radish. If there were not two- or three-and-fifty +upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged +creature. + +PRINCE Pray God you have not murdered some of +them. + +FALSTAFF Nay, that's past praying for. I have peppered +two of them. Two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a +lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my +old ward. Here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four +rogues in buckram let drive at me. + +PRINCE What, four? Thou said'st but two even now. + +FALSTAFF Four, Hal, I told thee four. + +POINS Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF These four came all afront, and mainly +thrust at me. I made me no more ado, but took all +their seven points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE Seven? Why there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF In buckram? + +POINS Ay, four in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF Seven by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE, [to Poins] Prithee, let him alone. We shall have +more anon. + +FALSTAFF Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These +nine in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF Their points being broken-- + +POINS Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF Began to give me ground, but I followed me +close, came in foot and hand, and, with a thought, +seven of the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE O monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out +of two! + +FALSTAFF But as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back, +and let drive at me, for it was so dark, Hal, that thou +couldst not see thy hand. + +PRINCE These lies are like their father that begets +them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, +thou claybrained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-catch-- + +FALSTAFF What, art thou mad? Art thou mad? Is not +the truth the truth? + +PRINCE Why, how couldst thou know these men in +Kendal green when it was so dark thou couldst not +see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason. What sayest +thou to this? + +POINS Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF What, upon compulsion? Zounds, an I were +at the strappado or all the racks in the world, I +would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a +reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plentiful +as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. This sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horse-backbreaker, +this huge hill of flesh-- + +FALSTAFF 'Sblood, you starveling, you elfskin, you +dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stockfish! +O, for breath to utter what is like thee! You tailor's +yard, you sheath, you bowcase, you vile standing +tuck-- + +PRINCE Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again, and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE We two saw you four set on four, and bound +them and were masters of their wealth. Mark now +how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we +two set on you four and, with a word, outfaced you +from your prize, and have it, yea, and can show it +you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried +your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, +and roared for mercy, and still run and roared, as +ever I heard bull-calf. What a slave art thou to hack +thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in +fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole +canst thou now find out to hide thee from this open +and apparent shame? + +POINS Come, let's hear, Jack. What trick hast thou +now? + +FALSTAFF By the Lord, I knew you as well as he that +made you. Why, hear you, my masters, was it for +me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the +true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as +Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not +touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter. +I was now a coward on instinct. I shall think +the better of myself, and thee, during my life-- +I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. +But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the +money.--Hostess, clap to the doors.--Watch tonight, +pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts +of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to +you. What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play +extempore? + +PRINCE Content, and the argument shall be thy running +away. + +FALSTAFF Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me. + +[Enter Hostess.] + + +HOSTESS O Jesu, my lord the Prince-- + +PRINCE How now, my lady the hostess, what sayst thou +to me? + +HOSTESS Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the +court at door would speak with you. He says he +comes from your father. + +PRINCE Give him as much as will make him a royal +man and send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF What manner of man is he? + +HOSTESS An old man. + +FALSTAFF What doth Gravity out of his bed at midnight? +Shall I give him his answer? + +PRINCE Prithee do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF Faith, and I'll send him packing. [He exits.] + +PRINCE Now, sirs. [To Gadshill.] By 'r Lady, you fought +fair.--So did you, Peto.--So did you, Bardolph.-- +You are lions too. You ran away upon instinct. You +will not touch the true prince. No, fie! + +BARDOLPH Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO Why, he hacked it with his dagger and said he +would swear truth out of England but he would +make you believe it was done in fight, and persuaded +us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH Yea, and to tickle our noses with speargrass +to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our +garments with it, and swear it was the blood of true +men. I did that I did not this seven year before: I +blushed to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen +years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever +since thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire +and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away. +What instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH My lord, do you see these meteors? Do you +behold these exhalations? + +PRINCE I do. + +BARDOLPH What think you they portend? + +PRINCE Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE No. If rightly taken, halter. + +[Enter Falstaff.] + +Here comes lean Jack. Here comes bare-bone.-- +How now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long +is 't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF My own knee? When I was about thy years, +Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist. I could +have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring. A +plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villainous news abroad. Here was +Sir John Bracy from your father. You must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales that gave Amamon the +bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore +the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a +Welsh hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS Owen Glendower. + +FALSTAFF Owen, Owen, the same, and his son-in-law +Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that +sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs a-horseback +up a hill perpendicular-- + +PRINCE He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF You have hit it. + +PRINCE So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him. He +will not run. + +PRINCE Why, what a rascal art thou then to praise him +so for running? + +FALSTAFF A-horseback, you cuckoo, but afoot he will +not budge a foot. + +PRINCE Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF I grant you, upon instinct. Well, he is there +too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps +more. Worcester is stolen away tonight. Thy father's +beard is turned white with the news. You may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE Why then, it is like if there come a hot June, +and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hobnails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF By the Mass, thou sayest true. It is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? Thou being heir +apparent, could the world pick thee out three such +enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that spirit +Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not +horribly afraid? Doth not thy blood thrill at it? + +PRINCE Not a whit, i' faith. I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF Well, thou wilt be horribly chid tomorrow +when thou comest to thy father. If thou love me, +practice an answer. + +PRINCE Do thou stand for my father and examine me +upon the particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF Shall I? Content. [He sits down.] This chair +shall be my state, this dagger my scepter, and this +cushion my crown. + +PRINCE Thy state is taken for a joined stool, thy golden +scepter for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown. + +FALSTAFF Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of +thee, now shalt thou be moved.--Give me a cup of +sack to make my eyes look red, that it may be +thought I have wept, for I must speak in passion, +and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE, [bowing] Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF And here is my speech. [As King.] Stand +aside, nobility. + +HOSTESS O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF, [as King] +Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. + +HOSTESS O the Father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF, [as King] +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen, +For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes. + +HOSTESS O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see. + +FALSTAFF Peace, good pint-pot. Peace, good tickle-brain.-- +[As King.] Harry, I do not only marvel +where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou +art accompanied. For though the camomile, the +more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, so youth, +the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That +thou art my son I have partly thy mother's word, +partly my own opinion, but chiefly a villainous +trick of thine eye and a foolish hanging of thy +nether lip that doth warrant me. If then thou be +son to me, here lies the point: why, being son to +me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of +heaven prove a micher and eat blackberries? A +question not to be asked. Shall the son of England +prove a thief and take purses? A question to be +asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast +often heard of, and it is known to many in our land +by the name of pitch. This pitch, as ancient writers +do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou +keepest. For, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in +drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; +not in words only, but in woes also. And yet there is +a virtuous man whom I have often noted in thy +company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE What manner of man, an it like your Majesty? + +FALSTAFF, [as King] A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a +corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a +most noble carriage, and, as I think, his age some +fifty, or, by 'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now +I remember me, his name is Falstaff. If that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me, for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then +peremptorily I speak it: there is virtue in that +Falstaff; him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me +now, thou naughty varlet, tell me where hast thou +been this month? + +PRINCE Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for +me, and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF, [rising] Depose me? If thou dost it half so +gravely, so majestically, both in word and matter, +hang me up by the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a +poulter's hare. + +PRINCE, [sitting down] Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF And here I stand.--Judge, my masters. + +PRINCE, [as King] Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF, [as Prince] My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE, [as King] The complaints I hear of thee are +grievous. + +FALSTAFF, [as Prince] 'Sblood, my lord, they are false. +--Nay, I'll tickle you for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE, [as King] Swearest thou? Ungracious boy, +henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently +carried away from grace. There is a devil haunts +thee in the likeness of an old fat man. A tun of man +is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that +trunk of humors, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, +that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard +of sack, that stuffed cloakbag of guts, that roasted +Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that +reverend Vice, that gray iniquity, that father ruffian, +that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste +sack and drink it? Wherein neat and cleanly but to +carve a capon and eat it? Wherein cunning but in +craft? Wherein crafty but in villainy? Wherein villainous +but in all things? Wherein worthy but in +nothing? + +FALSTAFF, [as Prince] I would your Grace would take +me with you. Whom means your Grace? + +PRINCE, [as King] That villainous abominable misleader +of youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF, [as Prince] My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE, [as King] I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF, [as Prince] But to say I know more harm in +him than in myself were to say more than I know. +That he is old, the more the pity; his white hairs do +witness it. But that he is, saving your reverence, a +whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar +be a fault, God help the wicked. If to be old and +merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is +damned. If to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's +lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord, +banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins, but for +sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack +Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more +valiant being as he is old Jack Falstaff, banish not +him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy +Harry's company. Banish plump Jack, and banish +all the world. + +PRINCE I do, I will. +[A loud knocking, and Bardolph, Hostess, and +Francis exit.] + +[Enter Bardolph running.] + + +BARDOLPH O my lord, my lord, the Sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF Out, you rogue.--Play out the play. I have +much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +[Enter the Hostess.] + + +HOSTESS O Jesu, my lord, my lord-- + +PRINCE Heigh, heigh, the devil rides upon a fiddlestick. +What's the matter? + +HOSTESS The Sheriff and all the watch are at the door. +They are come to search the house. Shall I let them +in? + +FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece +of gold a counterfeit. Thou art essentially made +without seeming so. + +PRINCE And thou a natural coward without instinct. + +FALSTAFF I deny your major. If you will deny the +Sheriff, so; if not, let him enter. If I become not a +cart as well as another man, a plague on my +bringing up. I hope I shall as soon be strangled with +a halter as another. + +PRINCE, [standing] Go hide thee behind the arras. The +rest walk up above.--Now, my masters, for a true +face and good conscience. + +FALSTAFF Both which I have had, but their date is out; +and therefore I'll hide me. [He hides.] + +PRINCE Call in the Sheriff. +[All but the Prince and Peto exit.] + +[Enter Sheriff and the Carrier.] + + +PRINCE +Now, Master Sheriff, what is your will with me? + +SHERIFF +First pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath followed certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE What men? + +SHERIFF +One of them is well known, my gracious lord. +A gross fat man. + +CARRIER As fat as butter. + +PRINCE +The man I do assure you is not here, +For I myself at this time have employed him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will by tomorrow dinner time +Send him to answer thee or any man +For anything he shall be charged withal. +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +SHERIFF +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE +It may be so. If he have robbed these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +SHERIFF Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +SHERIFF +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. +[He exits with the Carrier.] + +PRINCE This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go +call him forth. + +PETO Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his +pockets. [(He searcheth his pocket, and findeth certain +papers.)] What hast thou found? + +PETO Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE Let's see what they be. Read them. + +PETO [reads] +Item, a capon,...2s. 2d. +Item, sauce,...4d. +Item, sack, two gallons,...5s. 8d. +Item, anchovies and sack after supper,...2s. 6d. +Item, bread,...ob. + +PRINCE O monstrous! But one halfpennyworth of +bread to this intolerable deal of sack? What there is +else, keep close. We'll read it at more advantage. +There let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honorable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot, and I know his death will be a march +of twelve score. The money shall be paid back again +with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning, +and so good morrow, Peto. + +PETO Good morrow, good my lord. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Lord Mortimer, and Owen +Glendower.] + + +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? And uncle Worcester-- +A plague upon it, I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy, +Sit, good cousin Hotspur, for by that name +As oft as Lancaster doth speak of you +His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh +He wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR And you in hell, +As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him. At my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets, and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the Earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR Why, so it would have done +At the same season if your mother's cat +Had but kittened, though yourself had never been +born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the Earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the Earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire; the Earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the Earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming Earth +Is with a kind of colic pinched and vexed +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb, which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam Earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam Earth, having this distemp'rature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have marked me extraordinary, +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipped in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy. You will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man, +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the +devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth. Tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him +hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottomed Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here is the map. Shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The Archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assigned; +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound +To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn, +Which being sealed interchangeably-- +A business that this night may execute-- +Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days. +[To Glendower.] Within that space you may have +drawn together +Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords, +And in my conduct shall your ladies come, +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR, [looking at the map] +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours. +See how this river comes me cranking in +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place dammed up, +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly. +It shall not wind with such a deep indent +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? It shall, it must. You see it doth. + +MORTIMER, [to Hotspur] +Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs +me up +With like advantage on the other side, +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land, +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so. A little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER I'll not have it altered. + +HOTSPUR Will not you? + +GLENDOWER No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you, +For I was trained up in the English court, +Where being but young I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament-- +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart. +I had rather be a kitten and cry "mew" +Than one of these same meter balladmongers. +I had rather hear a brazen can'stick turned, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree, +And that would set my teeth nothing an edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry. +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER Come, you shall have Trent turned. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care. I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark you me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair. You may away by night. +I'll haste the writer, and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence. +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. [He exits.] + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me +With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-winged griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what-- +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys. I cried "Hum," and "Well, go +to," +But marked him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife, +Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion, +And wondrous affable, and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come cross his humor. Faith, he does. +I warrant you that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done +Without the taste of danger and reproof. +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +WORCESTER, [to Hotspur] +In faith, my lord, you are too willful-blame, +And, since your coming hither, have done enough +To put him quite besides his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault. +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, +blood-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain, +The least of which, haunting a nobleman, +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +[Enter Glendower with the Ladies.] + + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me: +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps; she'll not part with you. +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. +[Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, +and she answers him in the same.] + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry, +One that no persuasion can do good upon. +[The Lady speaks in Welsh.] + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh +Which thou pourest down from these swelling +heavens +I am too perfect in, and but for shame +In such a parley should I answer thee. +[The Lady speaks again in Welsh. They kiss.] +I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation; +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penned, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. +[The Lady speaks again in Welsh.] + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep, +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly harnessed team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing. +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. + +GLENDOWER +Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here. Sit and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down. +Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy +lap. + +LADY PERCY Go, you giddy goose. +[The music plays.] + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh, +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By 'r Lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY Then should you be nothing but musical, +for you are altogether governed by humors. Lie +still, you thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in +Irish. + +LADY PERCY Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR No. + +LADY PERCY Then be still. + +HOTSPUR Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY What's that? + +HOTSPUR Peace, she sings. +[Here the Lady sings a Welsh song.] + +HOTSPUR Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR Not yours, in good sooth! Heart, you swear +like a comfit-maker's wife! "Not you, in good +sooth," and "as true as I live," and "as God shall +mend me," and "as sure as day"-- +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave "in sooth," +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread +To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll +away within these two hours, and so come in when +you will. [He exits.] + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn. We'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER With all my heart. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the King, Prince of Wales, and others.] + + +KING +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference, but be near at +hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. +[Lords exit.] +I know not whether God will have it so +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in His secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me. +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only marked +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean +attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society +As thou art matched withal, and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood, +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE +So please your Majesty, I would I could +Quit all offenses with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal. +Yet such extenuation let me beg +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers, +I may for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wandered and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING +God pardon thee. Yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood. +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruined, and the soul of every man +Prophetically do forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackneyed in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wondered at, +That men would tell their children "This is he." +Others would say "Where? Which is Bolingbroke?" +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dressed myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new, +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with cap'ring fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns, +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative; +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoffed himself to popularity, +That, being daily swallowed by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So, when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze +Such as is bent on sunlike majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes, +But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou, +For thou hast lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation. Not an eye +But is aweary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more, +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my scepter, and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou, the shadow of succession. +For of no right, nor color like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honor hath he got +Against renowned Douglas, whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms, +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ. +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swaddling +clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him, and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's Grace of York, Douglas, +Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my nearest and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination, and the start of spleen, +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels, and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE +Do not think so. You shall not find it so. +And God forgive them that so much have swayed +Your Majesty's good thoughts away from me. +I will redeem all this on Percy's head, +And, in the closing of some glorious day, +Be bold to tell you that I am your son, +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favors in a bloody mask, +Which, washed away, shall scour my shame with it. +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honor and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honor sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! For the time will come +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf. +And I will call him to so strict account +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This in the name of God I promise here, +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your Majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance. +If not, the end of life cancels all bands, +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING +A hundred thousand rebels die in this. +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +[Enter Blunt.] + +How now, good Blunt? Thy looks are full of speed. + +BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury. +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offered foul play in a state. + +KING +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth today, +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster, +For this advertisement is five days old.-- +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward. +On Thursday we ourselves will march. Our meeting +Is Bridgenorth. And, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business. Let's away. +Advantage feeds him fat while men delay. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.] + + +FALSTAFF Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since +this last action? Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? +Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's +loose gown. I am withered like an old applejohn. +Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in +some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then +I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse. The inside of a +church! Company, villainous company, hath been +the spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live +long. + +FALSTAFF Why, there is it. Come, sing me a bawdy +song, make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a +gentleman need to be, virtuous enough: swore +little; diced not above seven times--a week; went to +a bawdy house not above once in a quarter--of an +hour; paid money that I borrowed--three or four +times; lived well and in good compass; and now I +live out of all order, out of all compass. + +BARDOLPH Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must +needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my +life. Thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern +in the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee. Thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF No, I'll be sworn, I make as good use of it as +many a man doth of a death's-head or a memento +mori. I never see thy face but I think upon hellfire +and Dives that lived in purple, for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given +to virtue, I would swear by thy face. My oath should +be "By this fire, that's God's angel." But thou art +altogether given over, and wert indeed, but for the +light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When +thou ran'st up Gad's Hill in the night to catch my +horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis +fatuus, or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in +money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting +bonfire-light. Thou hast saved me a thousand +marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the +night betwixt tavern and tavern, but the sack that +thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as +good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I +have maintained that salamander of yours with fire +any time this two-and-thirty years, God reward me +for it. + +BARDOLPH 'Sblood, I would my face were in your +belly! + +FALSTAFF Godamercy, so should I be sure to be +heartburned! + +[Enter Hostess.] + +How now, Dame Partlet the hen, have you enquired +yet who picked my pocket? + +HOSTESS Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John, +do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have +searched, I have enquired, so has my husband, +man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant. +The tithe of a hair was never lost in my house +before. + +FALSTAFF You lie, hostess. Bardolph was shaved and +lost many a hair, and I'll be sworn my pocket was +picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. + +HOSTESS Who, I? No, I defy thee! God's light, I was +never called so in mine own house before. + +FALSTAFF Go to, I know you well enough. + +HOSTESS No, Sir John, you do not know me, Sir John. I +know you, Sir John. You owe me money, Sir John, +and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it. I +bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. + +FALSTAFF Dowlas, filthy dowlas. I have given them +away to bakers' wives; they have made bolters of +them. + +HOSTESS Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight +shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir +John, for your diet and by-drinkings and money +lent you, four-and-twenty pound. + +FALSTAFF, [pointing to Bardolph] He had his part of it. +Let him pay. + +HOSTESS He? Alas, he is poor. He hath nothing. + +FALSTAFF How, poor? Look upon his face. What call +you rich? Let them coin his nose. Let them coin his +cheeks. I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a +younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine +inn but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a +seal ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark. + +HOSTESS, [to Bardolph] O Jesu, I have heard the Prince +tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was +copper. + +FALSTAFF How? The Prince is a jack, a sneak-up. +'Sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him like a +dog if he would say so. + +[Enter the Prince marching, with Peto, and Falstaff +meets him playing upon his truncheon like a fife.] + +How now, lad, is the wind in that door, i' faith? Must +we all march? + +BARDOLPH Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion. + +HOSTESS, [to Prince] My lord, I pray you, hear me. + +PRINCE What say'st thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth +thy husband? I love him well; he is an honest man. + +HOSTESS Good my lord, hear me. + +FALSTAFF Prithee, let her alone, and list to me. + +PRINCE What say'st thou, Jack? + +FALSTAFF The other night I fell asleep here, behind the +arras, and had my pocket picked. This house is +turned bawdy house; they pick pockets. + +PRINCE What didst thou lose, Jack? + +FALSTAFF Wilt thou believe me, Hal, three or four +bonds of forty pound apiece, and a seal ring of my +grandfather's. + +PRINCE A trifle, some eightpenny matter. + +HOSTESS So I told him, my lord, and I said I heard +your Grace say so. And, my lord, he speaks most +vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man, as he is, and +said he would cudgel you. + +PRINCE What, he did not! + +HOSTESS There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood +in me else. + +FALSTAFF There's no more faith in thee than in a +stewed prune, nor no more truth in thee than in a +drawn fox, and for womanhood, Maid Marian may +be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you +thing, go. + +HOSTESS Say, what thing, what thing? + +FALSTAFF What thing? Why, a thing to thank God on. + +HOSTESS I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou +shouldst know it! I am an honest man's wife, and, +setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to +call me so. + +FALSTAFF Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a +beast to say otherwise. + +HOSTESS Say, what beast, thou knave, thou? + +FALSTAFF What beast? Why, an otter. + +PRINCE An otter, Sir John. Why an otter? + +FALSTAFF Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man +knows not where to have her. + +HOSTESS Thou art an unjust man in saying so. Thou or +any man knows where to have me, thou knave, +thou. + +PRINCE Thou sayst true, hostess, and he slanders thee +most grossly. + +HOSTESS So he doth you, my lord, and said this other +day you owed him a thousand pound. + +PRINCE Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound? + +FALSTAFF A thousand pound, Hal? A million. Thy love is +worth a million; thou owest me thy love. + +HOSTESS Nay, my lord, he called you "jack," and said +he would cudgel you. + +FALSTAFF Did I, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH Indeed, Sir John, you said so. + +FALSTAFF Yea, if he said my ring was copper. + +PRINCE I say 'tis copper. Darest thou be as good as thy +word now? + +FALSTAFF Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but +man, I dare, but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I +fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. + +PRINCE And why not as the lion? + +FALSTAFF The King himself is to be feared as the lion. +Dost thou think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? +Nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break. + +PRINCE O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about +thy knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith, +truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine. It is all +filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest +woman with picking thy pocket? Why, thou whoreson, +impudent, embossed rascal, if there were +anything in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, +memorandums of bawdy houses, and one poor +pennyworth of sugar candy to make thee long-winded, +if thy pocket were enriched with any other +injuries but these, I am a villain. And yet you will +stand to it! You will not pocket up wrong! Art thou +not ashamed? + +FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, Hal? Thou knowest in the +state of innocency Adam fell, and what should poor +Jack Falstaff do in the days of villainy? Thou seest I +have more flesh than another man and therefore +more frailty. You confess, then, you picked my +pocket. + +PRINCE It appears so by the story. + +FALSTAFF Hostess, I forgive thee. Go make ready +breakfast, love thy husband, look to thy servants, +cherish thy guests. Thou shalt find me tractable +to any honest reason. Thou seest I am pacified still. +Nay, prithee, begone. [(Hostess exits.)] Now, Hal, to +the news at court. For the robbery, lad, how is that +answered? + +PRINCE O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to +thee. The money is paid back again. + +FALSTAFF O, I do not like that paying back. 'Tis a double +labor. + +PRINCE I am good friends with my father and may do +anything. + +FALSTAFF Rob me the Exchequer the first thing thou +dost, and do it with unwashed hands too. + +BARDOLPH Do, my lord. + +PRINCE I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. + +FALSTAFF I would it had been of horse. Where shall I +find one that can steal well? O, for a fine thief of +the age of two-and-twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously +unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these +rebels. They offend none but the virtuous. I laud +them; I praise them. + +PRINCE Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH My lord. + +PRINCE, [handing Bardolph papers] +Go, bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, +To my brother John; this to my Lord of +Westmoreland. [Bardolph exits.] +Go, Peto, to horse, to horse, for thou and I +Have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. +[Peto exits.] +Jack, meet me tomorrow in the Temple hall +At two o'clock in the afternoon; +There shalt thou know thy charge, and there receive +Money and order for their furniture. +The land is burning. Percy stands on high, +And either we or they must lower lie. [He exits.] + +FALSTAFF +Rare words, brave world!--Hostess, my breakfast, +come.-- +O, I could wish this tavern were my drum. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hotspur, Worcester, and Douglas.] + + +HOTSPUR +Well said, my noble Scot. If speaking truth +In this fine age were not thought flattery, +Such attribution should the Douglas have +As not a soldier of this season's stamp +Should go so general current through the world. +By God, I cannot flatter. I do defy +The tongues of soothers. But a braver place +In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. +Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord. + +DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honor. +No man so potent breathes upon the ground +But I will beard him. + +HOTSPUR Do so, and 'tis well. + +[Enter a Messenger with letters.] + + +What letters hast thou there? [To Douglas.] I can but +thank you. + +MESSENGER These letters come from your father. + +HOTSPUR +Letters from him! Why comes he not himself? + +MESSENGER +He cannot come, my lord. He is grievous sick. + +HOTSPUR +Zounds, how has he the leisure to be sick +In such a justling time? Who leads his power? +Under whose government come they along? + +MESSENGER, [handing letter to Hotspur, who begins +reading it] +His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord. + +WORCESTER +I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? + +MESSENGER +He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth, +And, at the time of my departure thence, +He was much feared by his physicians. + +WORCESTER +I would the state of time had first been whole +Ere he by sickness had been visited. +His health was never better worth than now. + +HOTSPUR +Sick now? Droop now? This sickness doth infect +The very lifeblood of our enterprise. +'Tis catching hither, even to our camp. +He writes me here that inward sickness-- +And that his friends by deputation +Could not so soon be drawn, nor did he think it +meet +To lay so dangerous and dear a trust +On any soul removed but on his own; +Yet doth he give us bold advertisement +That with our small conjunction we should on +To see how fortune is disposed to us, +For, as he writes, there is no quailing now, +Because the King is certainly possessed +Of all our purposes. What say you to it? + +WORCESTER +Your father's sickness is a maim to us. + +HOTSPUR +A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off! +And yet, in faith, it is not. His present want +Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good +To set the exact wealth of all our states +All at one cast? To set so rich a main +On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour? +It were not good, for therein should we read +The very bottom and the soul of hope, +The very list, the very utmost bound +Of all our fortunes. + +DOUGLAS +Faith, and so we should, where now remains +A sweet reversion. We may boldly spend +Upon the hope of what is to come in. +A comfort of retirement lives in this. + +HOTSPUR +A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, +If that the devil and mischance look big +Upon the maidenhead of our affairs. + +WORCESTER +But yet I would your father had been here. +The quality and hair of our attempt +Brooks no division. It will be thought +By some that know not why he is away +That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike +Of our proceedings kept the Earl from hence. +And think how such an apprehension +May turn the tide of fearful faction +And breed a kind of question in our cause. +For well you know, we of the off'ring side +Must keep aloof from strict arbitrament, +And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence +The eye of reason may pry in upon us. +This absence of your father's draws a curtain +That shows the ignorant a kind of fear +Before not dreamt of. + +HOTSPUR You strain too far. +I rather of his absence make this use: +It lends a luster and more great opinion, +A larger dare, to our great enterprise +Than if the Earl were here, for men must think +If we without his help can make a head +To push against a kingdom, with his help +We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down. +Yet all goes well; yet all our joints are whole. + +DOUGLAS +As heart can think. There is not such a word +Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear. + +[Enter Sir Richard Vernon.] + + +HOTSPUR +My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul. + +VERNON +Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord. +The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong, +Is marching hitherwards, with him Prince John. + +HOTSPUR +No harm, what more? + +VERNON And further I have learned +The King himself in person is set forth, +Or hitherwards intended speedily, +With strong and mighty preparation. + +HOTSPUR +He shall be welcome too. Where is his son, +The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales, +And his comrades, that daffed the world aside +And bid it pass? + +VERNON All furnished, all in arms, +All plumed like estridges that with the wind +Bated like eagles having lately bathed, +Glittering in golden coats like images, +As full of spirit as the month of May, +And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer, +Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. +I saw young Harry with his beaver on, +His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed, +Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury +And vaulted with such ease into his seat +As if an angel dropped down from the clouds, +To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus +And witch the world with noble horsemanship. + +HOTSPUR +No more, no more! Worse than the sun in March +This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come. +They come like sacrifices in their trim, +And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war +All hot and bleeding will we offer them. +The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit +Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire +To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh +And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse, +Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt +Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales. +Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse, +Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse. +O, that Glendower were come! + +VERNON There is more news. +I learned in Worcester, as I rode along, +He cannot draw his power this fourteen days. + +DOUGLAS +That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet. + +WORCESTER +Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound. + +HOTSPUR +What may the King's whole battle reach unto? + +VERNON +To thirty thousand. + +HOTSPUR Forty let it be. +My father and Glendower being both away, +The powers of us may serve so great a day. +Come, let us take a muster speedily. +Doomsday is near. Die all, die merrily. + +DOUGLAS +Talk not of dying. I am out of fear +Of death or death's hand for this one half year. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.] + + +FALSTAFF Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry. Fill +me a bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march +through. We'll to Sutton Coldfield tonight. + +BARDOLPH Will you give me money, captain? + +FALSTAFF Lay out, lay out. + +BARDOLPH This bottle makes an angel. + +FALSTAFF An if it do, take it for thy labor. An if it make +twenty, take them all. I'll answer the coinage. Bid +my lieutenant Peto meet me at town's end. + +BARDOLPH I will, captain. Farewell. [He exits.] + +FALSTAFF If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a +soused gurnet. I have misused the King's press +damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred +and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I +press me none but good householders, yeomen's +sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as +had been asked twice on the banns--such a commodity +of warm slaves as had as lief hear the devil +as a drum, such as fear the report of a caliver worse +than a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me +none but such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their +bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have +bought out their services, and now my whole +charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, +gentlemen of companies--slaves as ragged as Lazarus +in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs +licked his sores; and such as indeed were never +soldiers, but discarded, unjust servingmen, younger +sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and +ostlers tradefallen, the cankers of a calm world and +a long peace, ten times more dishonorable-ragged +than an old feazed ancient; and such have I to fill up +the rooms of them as have bought out their services, +that you would think that I had a hundred and fifty +tattered prodigals lately come from swine-keeping, +from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me +on the way and told me I had unloaded all the +gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath +seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry +with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains +march wide betwixt the legs as if they had gyves on, +for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. +There's not a shirt and a half in all my company, +and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together +and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat +without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, +stolen from my host at Saint Albans or the red-nose +innkeeper of Daventry. But that's all one; they'll find +linen enough on every hedge. + +[Enter the Prince and the Lord of Westmoreland.] + + +PRINCE How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt? + +FALSTAFF What, Hal, how now, mad wag? What a devil +dost thou in Warwickshire?--My good Lord of +Westmoreland, I cry you mercy. I thought your +Honor had already been at Shrewsbury. + +WESTMORELAND Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time +that I were there and you too, but my powers are +there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us +all. We must away all night. + +FALSTAFF Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to +steal cream. + +PRINCE I think to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath +already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose +fellows are these that come after? + +FALSTAFF Mine, Hal, mine. + +PRINCE I did never see such pitiful rascals. + +FALSTAFF Tut, tut, good enough to toss; food for powder, +food for powder. They'll fill a pit as well as +better. Tush, man, mortal men, mortal men. + +WESTMORELAND Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are +exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly. + +FALSTAFF Faith, for their poverty, I know not where +they had that, and for their bareness, I am sure they +never learned that of me. + +PRINCE No, I'll be sworn, unless you call three fingers +in the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste. Percy is +already in the field. [He exits.] + +FALSTAFF What, is the King encamped? + +WESTMORELAND He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too +long. [He exits.] + +FALSTAFF Well, +To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a +feast +Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.] + + +HOTSPUR +We'll fight with him tonight. + +WORCESTER It may not be. + +DOUGLAS +You give him then advantage. + +VERNON Not a whit. + +HOTSPUR +Why say you so? Looks he not for supply? + +VERNON So do we. + +HOTSPUR His is certain; ours is doubtful. + +WORCESTER +Good cousin, be advised. Stir not tonight. + +VERNON, [to Hotspur] +Do not, my lord. + +DOUGLAS You do not counsel well. +You speak it out of fear and cold heart. + +VERNON +Do me no slander, Douglas. By my life +(And I dare well maintain it with my life), +If well-respected honor bid me on, +I hold as little counsel with weak fear +As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives. +Let it be seen tomorrow in the battle +Which of us fears. + +DOUGLAS Yea, or tonight. + +VERNON Content. + +HOTSPUR Tonight, say I. + +VERNON +Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, +Being men of such great leading as you are, +That you foresee not what impediments +Drag back our expedition. Certain horse +Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up. +Your uncle Worcester's horse came but today, +And now their pride and mettle is asleep, +Their courage with hard labor tame and dull, +That not a horse is half the half of himself. + +HOTSPUR +So are the horses of the enemy +In general journey-bated and brought low. +The better part of ours are full of rest. + +WORCESTER +The number of the King exceedeth ours. +For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in. +[The trumpet sounds a parley.] + +[Enter Sir Walter Blunt.] + + +BLUNT +I come with gracious offers from the King, +If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect. + +HOTSPUR +Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt, and would to God +You were of our determination. +Some of us love you well, and even those some +Envy your great deservings and good name +Because you are not of our quality +But stand against us like an enemy. + +BLUNT +And God defend but still I should stand so, +So long as out of limit and true rule +You stand against anointed majesty. +But to my charge. The King hath sent to know +The nature of your griefs, and whereupon +You conjure from the breast of civil peace +Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land +Audacious cruelty. If that the King +Have any way your good deserts forgot, +Which he confesseth to be manifold, +He bids you name your griefs, and with all speed +You shall have your desires with interest +And pardon absolute for yourself and these +Herein misled by your suggestion. + +HOTSPUR +The King is kind, and well we know the King +Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. +My father and my uncle and myself +Did give him that same royalty he wears, +And when he was not six-and-twenty strong, +Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, +A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home, +My father gave him welcome to the shore; +And when he heard him swear and vow to God +He came but to be Duke of Lancaster, +To sue his livery, and beg his peace +With tears of innocency and terms of zeal, +My father, in kind heart and pity moved, +Swore him assistance and performed it too. +Now when the lords and barons of the realm +Perceived Northumberland did lean to him, +The more and less came in with cap and knee, +Met him in boroughs, cities, villages, +Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, +Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths, +Gave him their heirs as pages, followed him +Even at the heels in golden multitudes. +He presently, as greatness knows itself, +Steps me a little higher than his vow +Made to my father while his blood was poor +Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh, +And now forsooth takes on him to reform +Some certain edicts and some strait decrees +That lie too heavy on the commonwealth, +Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep +Over his country's wrongs, and by this face, +This seeming brow of justice, did he win +The hearts of all that he did angle for, +Proceeded further--cut me off the heads +Of all the favorites that the absent king +In deputation left behind him here +When he was personal in the Irish war. + +BLUNT +Tut, I came not to hear this. + +HOTSPUR Then to the point. +In short time after, he deposed the King, +Soon after that deprived him of his life +And, in the neck of that, tasked the whole state. +To make that worse, suffered his kinsman March +(Who is, if every owner were well placed, +Indeed his king) to be engaged in Wales, +There without ransom to lie forfeited, +Disgraced me in my happy victories, +Sought to entrap me by intelligence, +Rated mine uncle from the council board, +In rage dismissed my father from the court, +Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong, +And in conclusion drove us to seek out +This head of safety, and withal to pry +Into his title, the which we find +Too indirect for long continuance. + +BLUNT +Shall I return this answer to the King? + +HOTSPUR +Not so, Sir Walter. We'll withdraw awhile. +Go to the King, and let there be impawned +Some surety for a safe return again, +And in the morning early shall mine uncle +Bring him our purposes. And so farewell. + +BLUNT +I would you would accept of grace and love. + +HOTSPUR +And maybe so we shall. + +BLUNT Pray God you do. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Archbishop of York and Sir Michael.] + + +ARCHBISHOP, [handing papers] +Hie, good Sir Michael, bear this sealed brief +With winged haste to the Lord Marshal, +This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest +To whom they are directed. If you knew +How much they do import, you would make haste. + +SIR MICHAEL +My good lord, I guess their tenor. + +ARCHBISHOP Like enough you do. +Tomorrow, good Sir Michael, is a day +Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men +Must bide the touch. For, sir, at Shrewsbury, +As I am truly given to understand, +The King with mighty and quick-raised power +Meets with Lord Harry. And I fear, Sir Michael, +What with the sickness of Northumberland, +Whose power was in the first proportion, +And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence, +Who with them was a rated sinew too +And comes not in, o'erruled by prophecies, +I fear the power of Percy is too weak +To wage an instant trial with the King. + +SIR MICHAEL +Why, my good lord, you need not fear. +There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer. + +ARCHBISHOP No, Mortimer is not there. + +SIR MICHAEL +But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy, +And there is my Lord of Worcester, and a head +Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen. + +ARCHBISHOP +And so there is. But yet the King hath drawn +The special head of all the land together: +The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, +The noble Westmoreland, and warlike Blunt, +And many more corrivals and dear men +Of estimation and command in arms. + +SIR MICHAEL +Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed. + +ARCHBISHOP +I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear; +And to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed. +For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the King +Dismiss his power he means to visit us, +For he hath heard of our confederacy, +And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him. +Therefore make haste. I must go write again +To other friends. And so farewell, Sir Michael. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the King, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster, +Sir Walter Blunt, and Falstaff.] + + +KING +How bloodily the sun begins to peer +Above yon bulky hill. The day looks pale +At his distemp'rature. + +PRINCE The southern wind +Doth play the trumpet to his purposes, +And by his hollow whistling in the leaves +Foretells a tempest and a blust'ring day. + +KING +Then with the losers let it sympathize, +For nothing can seem foul to those that win. +[The trumpet sounds.] + +[Enter Worcester and Vernon.] + +How now, my Lord of Worcester? 'Tis not well +That you and I should meet upon such terms +As now we meet. You have deceived our trust +And made us doff our easy robes of peace +To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel. +This is not well, my lord; this is not well. +What say you to it? Will you again unknit +This churlish knot of all-abhorred war +And move in that obedient orb again +Where you did give a fair and natural light, +And be no more an exhaled meteor, +A prodigy of fear, and a portent +Of broached mischief to the unborn times? + +WORCESTER Hear me, my liege: +For mine own part I could be well content +To entertain the lag end of my life +With quiet hours. For I protest +I have not sought the day of this dislike. + +KING +You have not sought it. How comes it then? + +FALSTAFF Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it. + +PRINCE Peace, chewet, peace. + +WORCESTER +It pleased your Majesty to turn your looks +Of favor from myself and all our house; +And yet I must remember you, my lord, +We were the first and dearest of your friends. +For you my staff of office did I break +In Richard's time, and posted day and night +To meet you on the way and kiss your hand +When yet you were in place and in account +Nothing so strong and fortunate as I. +It was myself, my brother, and his son +That brought you home and boldly did outdare +The dangers of the time. You swore to us, +And you did swear that oath at Doncaster, +That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state, +Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right, +The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster. +To this we swore our aid. But in short space +It rained down fortune show'ring on your head, +And such a flood of greatness fell on you-- +What with our help, what with the absent king, +What with the injuries of a wanton time, +The seeming sufferances that you had borne, +And the contrarious winds that held the King +So long in his unlucky Irish wars +That all in England did repute him dead-- +And from this swarm of fair advantages +You took occasion to be quickly wooed +To gripe the general sway into your hand, +Forgot your oath to us at Doncaster; +And being fed by us, you used us so +As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird, +Useth the sparrow--did oppress our nest, +Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk +That even our love durst not come near your sight +For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing +We were enforced for safety sake to fly +Out of your sight and raise this present head, +Whereby we stand opposed by such means +As you yourself have forged against yourself +By unkind usage, dangerous countenance, +And violation of all faith and troth +Sworn to us in your younger enterprise. + +KING +These things indeed you have articulate, +Proclaimed at market crosses, read in churches, +To face the garment of rebellion +With some fine color that may please the eye +Of fickle changelings and poor discontents, +Which gape and rub the elbow at the news +Of hurlyburly innovation. +And never yet did insurrection want +Such water colors to impaint his cause, +Nor moody beggars starving for a time +Of pellmell havoc and confusion. + +PRINCE +In both your armies there is many a soul +Shall pay full dearly for this encounter +If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew, +The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world +In praise of Henry Percy. By my hopes, +This present enterprise set off his head, +I do not think a braver gentleman, +More active-valiant, or more valiant-young, +More daring or more bold, is now alive +To grace this latter age with noble deeds. +For my part, I may speak it to my shame, +I have a truant been to chivalry, +And so I hear he doth account me too. +Yet this before my father's majesty: +I am content that he shall take the odds +Of his great name and estimation, +And will, to save the blood on either side, +Try fortune with him in a single fight. + +KING +And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee, +Albeit considerations infinite +Do make against it.--No, good Worcester, no. +We love our people well, even those we love +That are misled upon your cousin's part. +And, will they take the offer of our grace, +Both he and they and you, yea, every man +Shall be my friend again, and I'll be his. +So tell your cousin, and bring me word +What he will do. But if he will not yield, +Rebuke and dread correction wait on us, +And they shall do their office. So begone. +We will not now be troubled with reply. +We offer fair. Take it advisedly. +[Worcester exits with Vernon.] + +PRINCE +It will not be accepted, on my life. +The Douglas and the Hotspur both together +Are confident against the world in arms. + +KING +Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge, +For on their answer will we set on them, +And God befriend us as our cause is just. +[They exit. Prince and Falstaff remain.] + +FALSTAFF Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and +bestride me, so; 'tis a point of friendship. + +PRINCE Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. +Say thy prayers, and farewell. + +FALSTAFF I would 'twere bedtime, Hal, and all well. + +PRINCE Why, thou owest God a death. [He exits.] + +FALSTAFF 'Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay Him +before His day. What need I be so forward with +Him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter. +Honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor prick me +off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a +leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a +wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? +No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word +"honor"? What is that "honor"? Air. A trim reckoning. +Who hath it? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth +he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. 'Tis insensible, +then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the +living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore, +I'll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And +so ends my catechism. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Worcester and Sir Richard Vernon.] + + +WORCESTER +O no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard, +The liberal and kind offer of the King. + +VERNON +'Twere best he did. + +WORCESTER Then are we all undone. +It is not possible, it cannot be +The King should keep his word in loving us. +He will suspect us still and find a time +To punish this offense in other faults. +Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of +eyes, +For treason is but trusted like the fox, +Who, never so tame, so cherished and locked up, +Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. +Look how we can, or sad or merrily, +Interpretation will misquote our looks, +And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, +The better cherished still the nearer death. +My nephew's trespass may be well forgot; +It hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood, +And an adopted name of privilege-- +A harebrained Hotspur governed by a spleen. +All his offenses live upon my head +And on his father's. We did train him on, +And his corruption being ta'en from us, +We as the spring of all shall pay for all. +Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know +In any case the offer of the King. + +VERNON +Deliver what you will; I'll say 'tis so. + +[Enter Hotspur, Douglas, and their army.] + +Here comes your cousin. + +HOTSPUR, [to Douglas] My uncle is returned. +Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.-- +Uncle, what news? + +WORCESTER +The King will bid you battle presently. + +DOUGLAS, [to Hotspur] +Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so. + +DOUGLAS +Marry, and shall, and very willingly. [Douglas exits.] + +WORCESTER +There is no seeming mercy in the King. + +HOTSPUR +Did you beg any? God forbid! + +WORCESTER +I told him gently of our grievances, +Of his oath-breaking, which he mended thus +By now forswearing that he is forsworn. +He calls us "rebels," "traitors," and will scourge +With haughty arms this hateful name in us. + +[Enter Douglas.] + + +DOUGLAS +Arm, gentlemen, to arms. For I have thrown +A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth, +And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it, +Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on. + +WORCESTER +The Prince of Wales stepped forth before the King, +And, nephew, challenged you to single fight. + +HOTSPUR +O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads, +And that no man might draw short breath today +But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me, +How showed his tasking? Seemed it in contempt? + +VERNON +No, by my soul. I never in my life +Did hear a challenge urged more modestly, +Unless a brother should a brother dare +To gentle exercise and proof of arms. +He gave you all the duties of a man, +Trimmed up your praises with a princely tongue, +Spoke your deservings like a chronicle, +Making you ever better than his praise +By still dispraising praise valued with you, +And, which became him like a prince indeed, +He made a blushing cital of himself, +And chid his truant youth with such a grace +As if he mastered there a double spirit +Of teaching and of learning instantly. +There did he pause, but let me tell the world: +If he outlive the envy of this day, +England did never owe so sweet a hope +So much misconstrued in his wantonness. + +HOTSPUR +Cousin, I think thou art enamored +On his follies. Never did I hear +Of any prince so wild a liberty. +But be he as he will, yet once ere night +I will embrace him with a soldier's arm +That he shall shrink under my courtesy.-- +Arm, arm with speed, and, fellows, soldiers, +friends, +Better consider what you have to do +Than I that have not well the gift of tongue +Can lift your blood up with persuasion. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER My lord, here are letters for you. + +HOTSPUR I cannot read them now.-- +O gentlemen, the time of life is short; +To spend that shortness basely were too long +If life did ride upon a dial's point, +Still ending at the arrival of an hour. +An if we live, we live to tread on kings; +If die, brave death, when princes die with us. +Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair +When the intent of bearing them is just. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER +My lord, prepare. The King comes on apace. + +HOTSPUR +I thank him that he cuts me from my tale, +For I profess not talking. Only this: +Let each man do his best. And here draw I a sword, +Whose temper I intend to stain +With the best blood that I can meet withal +In the adventure of this perilous day. +Now, Esperance! Percy! And set on. +Sound all the lofty instruments of war, +And by that music let us all embrace, +For, heaven to Earth, some of us never shall +A second time do such a courtesy. +[Here they embrace. The trumpets sound.] +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[The King enters with his power, crosses the stage and +exits. Alarum to the battle. Then enter Douglas, and Sir +Walter Blunt, disguised as the King.] + + +BLUNT, [as King] +What is thy name that in the battle thus +Thou crossest me? What honor dost thou seek +Upon my head? + +DOUGLAS Know then my name is Douglas, +And I do haunt thee in the battle thus +Because some tell me that thou art a king. + +BLUNT, [as King] They tell thee true. + +DOUGLAS +The Lord of Stafford dear today hath bought +Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry, +This sword hath ended him. So shall it thee, +Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner. + +BLUNT, [as King] +I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot, +And thou shalt find a king that will revenge +Lord Stafford's death. +[They fight. Douglas kills Blunt.] + +[Then enter Hotspur.] + + +HOTSPUR +O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus, +I never had triumphed upon a Scot. + +DOUGLAS +All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the King. + +HOTSPUR Where? + +DOUGLAS Here. + +HOTSPUR +This, Douglas? No, I know this face full well. +A gallant knight he was; his name was Blunt, +Semblably furnished like the King himself. + +DOUGLAS, [addressing Blunt's corpse] +A fool go with thy soul whither it goes! +A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear. +Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? + +HOTSPUR +The King hath many marching in his coats. + +DOUGLAS +Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats. +I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, +Until I meet the King. + +HOTSPUR Up and away! +Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. +[They exit.] + +[Alarm. Enter Falstaff alone.] + + +FALSTAFF Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, +I fear the shot here. Here's no scoring but upon +the pate.--Soft, who are you? Sir Walter Blunt. +There's honor for you. Here's no vanity. I am as hot +as molten lead, and as heavy too. God keep lead out +of me; I need no more weight than mine own +bowels. I have led my ragamuffins where they are +peppered. There's not three of my hundred and fifty +left alive, and they are for the town's end, to beg +during life. But who comes here? + +[Enter the Prince.] + + +PRINCE +What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword. +Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff +Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies, +Whose deaths are yet unrevenged. I prithee +Lend me thy sword. + +FALSTAFF O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe +awhile. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms +as I have done this day. I have paid Percy; I have +made him sure. + +PRINCE +He is indeed, and living to kill thee. +I prithee, lend me thy sword. + +FALSTAFF Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou +gett'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou +wilt. + +PRINCE +Give it me. What, is it in the case? + +FALSTAFF Ay, Hal, 'tis hot, 'tis hot. There's that will +sack a city. +[The Prince draws it out, and finds it +to be a bottle of sack.] + +PRINCE +What, is it a time to jest and dally now? +[He throws the bottle at him and exits.] + +FALSTAFF Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do +come in my way, so; if he do not, if I come in his +willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not +such grinning honor as Sir Walter hath. Give me +life, which, if I can save, so: if not, honor comes +unlooked for, and there's an end. +[He exits. Blunt's body is carried off.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarm, excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John +of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmoreland.] + + +KING +I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself. Thou bleedest +too much. +Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him. + +LANCASTER +Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too. + +PRINCE +I beseech your Majesty, make up, +Lest your retirement do amaze your friends. + +KING +I will do so.--My Lord of Westmoreland, +Lead him to his tent. + +WESTMORELAND +Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent. + +PRINCE +Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help, +And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive +The Prince of Wales from such a field as this, +Where stained nobility lies trodden on, +And rebels' arms triumph in massacres. + +LANCASTER +We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmoreland, +Our duty this way lies. For God's sake, come. +[Lancaster and Westmoreland exit.] + +PRINCE +By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster. +I did not think thee lord of such a spirit. +Before, I loved thee as a brother, John, +But now I do respect thee as my soul. + +KING +I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point +With lustier maintenance than I did look for +Of such an ungrown warrior. + +PRINCE +O, this boy lends mettle to us all. [He exits.] + +[Enter Douglas.] + + +DOUGLAS +Another king! They grow like Hydra's heads.-- +I am the Douglas, fatal to all those +That wear those colors on them. What art thou +That counterfeit'st the person of a king? + +KING +The King himself, who, Douglas, grieves at heart, +So many of his shadows thou hast met +And not the very king. I have two boys +Seek Percy and thyself about the field, +But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily, +I will assay thee. And defend thyself. + +DOUGLAS +I fear thou art another counterfeit, +And yet, in faith, thou bearest thee like a king. +But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be, +And thus I win thee. + +[They fight. The King being in danger, +enter Prince of Wales.] + + +PRINCE +Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like +Never to hold it up again. The spirits +Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt are in my arms. +It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee, +Who never promiseth but he means to pay. +[They fight. Douglas flieth.] +[To King.] Cheerly, my lord. How fares your Grace? +Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent, +And so hath Clifton. I'll to Clifton straight. + +KING Stay and breathe awhile. +Thou hast redeemed thy lost opinion +And showed thou mak'st some tender of my life +In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me. + +PRINCE +O God, they did me too much injury +That ever said I hearkened for your death. +If it were so, I might have let alone +The insulting hand of Douglas over you, +Which would have been as speedy in your end +As all the poisonous potions in the world, +And saved the treacherous labor of your son. + +KING +Make up to Clifton. I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. +[King exits.] + +[Enter Hotspur.] + + +HOTSPUR +If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. + +PRINCE +Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name. + +HOTSPUR +My name is Harry Percy. + +PRINCE Why then I see +A very valiant rebel of the name. +I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, +To share with me in glory any more. +Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere, +Nor can one England brook a double reign +Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales. + +HOTSPUR +Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come +To end the one of us, and would to God +Thy name in arms were now as great as mine. + +PRINCE +I'll make it greater ere I part from thee, +And all the budding honors on thy crest +I'll crop to make a garland for my head. + +HOTSPUR +I can no longer brook thy vanities. [They fight.] + +[Enter Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find +no boys' play here, I can tell you. + +[Enter Douglas. He fighteth with Falstaff, who falls +down as if he were dead. Douglas exits. The Prince +killeth Percy.] + + +HOTSPUR +O Harry, thou hast robbed me of my youth. +I better brook the loss of brittle life +Than those proud titles thou hast won of me. +They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my +flesh. +But thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time's fool, +And time, that takes survey of all the world, +Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy, +But that the earthy and cold hand of death +Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust, +And food for-- [He dies.] + +PRINCE +For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart. +Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! +When that this body did contain a spirit, +A kingdom for it was too small a bound, +But now two paces of the vilest earth +Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead +Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. +If thou wert sensible of courtesy, +I should not make so dear a show of zeal. +But let my favors hide thy mangled face; +[He covers Hotspur's face.] +And even in thy behalf I'll thank myself +For doing these fair rites of tenderness. +Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven. +Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, +But not remembered in thy epitaph. +[He spieth Falstaff on the ground.] +What, old acquaintance, could not all this flesh +Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell. +I could have better spared a better man. +O, I should have a heavy miss of thee +If I were much in love with vanity. +Death hath not struck so fat a deer today, +Though many dearer in this bloody fray. +Emboweled will I see thee by and by; +Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. [He exits.] +[Falstaff riseth up.] + +FALSTAFF Emboweled? If thou embowel me today, I'll +give you leave to powder me and eat me too +tomorrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or +that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot +too. Counterfeit? I lie. I am no counterfeit. To die is +to be a counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a +man who hath not the life of a man; but to counterfeit +dying when a man thereby liveth is to be no +counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life +indeed. The better part of valor is discretion, in the +which better part I have saved my life. Zounds, I am +afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead. +How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? By my +faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit. +Therefore I'll make him sure, yea, and I'll swear +I killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I? +Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. +Therefore, sirrah, [stabbing him] with a new wound +in your thigh, come you along with me. +[He takes up Hotspur on his back.] + +[Enter Prince and John of Lancaster.] + + +PRINCE +Come, brother John. Full bravely hast thou fleshed +Thy maiden sword. + +LANCASTER But soft, whom have we here? +Did you not tell me this fat man was dead? + +PRINCE I did; I saw him dead, +Breathless and bleeding on the ground.--Art thou +alive? +Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight? +I prithee, speak. We will not trust our eyes +Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seem'st. + +FALSTAFF No, that's certain. I am not a double man. +But if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a jack. There +is Percy. If your father will do me any honor, so; if +not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be +either earl or duke, I can assure you. + +PRINCE +Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead. + +FALSTAFF Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is +given to lying. I grant you, I was down and out of +breath, and so was he, but we rose both at an instant +and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I +may be believed, so; if not, let them that should +reward valor bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll +take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in +the thigh. If the man were alive and would deny +it, zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my +sword. + +LANCASTER +This is the strangest tale that ever I heard. + +PRINCE +This is the strangest fellow, brother John.-- +Come bring your luggage nobly on your back. +For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, +I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have. +[A retreat is sounded.] +The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours. +Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field +To see what friends are living, who are dead. +[They exit.] + +FALSTAFF I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that +rewards me, God reward him. If I do grow great, +I'll grow less, for I'll purge and leave sack and live +cleanly as a nobleman should do. +[He exits carrying Hotspur's body.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[The trumpets sound. Enter the King, Prince of Wales, +Lord John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmoreland, with +Worcester and Vernon prisoners, and Soldiers.] + + +KING +Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.-- +Ill-spirited Worcester, did not we send grace, +Pardon, and terms of love to all of you? +And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary, +Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust? +Three knights upon our party slain today, +A noble earl, and many a creature else +Had been alive this hour +If, like a Christian, thou hadst truly borne +Betwixt our armies true intelligence. + +WORCESTER +What I have done my safety urged me to. +And I embrace this fortune patiently, +Since not to be avoided it falls on me. + +KING +Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too. +Other offenders we will pause upon. +[Worcester and Vernon exit, under guard.] +How goes the field? + +PRINCE +The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw +The fortune of the day quite turned from him, +The noble Percy slain, and all his men +Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest, +And, falling from a hill, he was so bruised +That the pursuers took him. At my tent +The Douglas is, and I beseech your Grace +I may dispose of him. + +KING With all my heart. + +PRINCE +Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you +This honorable bounty shall belong. +Go to the Douglas and deliver him +Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free. +His valors shown upon our crests today +Have taught us how to cherish such high deeds, +Even in the bosom of our adversaries. + +LANCASTER +I thank your Grace for this high courtesy, +Which I shall give away immediately. + +KING +Then this remains, that we divide our power. +You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland, +Towards York shall bend you with your dearest +speed +To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop, +Who, as we hear, are busily in arms. +Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales +To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March. +Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, +Meeting the check of such another day. +And since this business so fair is done, +Let us not leave till all our own be won. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..31a1825 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-iv-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4975 @@ +Henry IV, Part 2 +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-iv-part-2/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +RUMOR, Presenter of the Induction +KING HENRY IV, formerly Henry Bolingbroke +PRINCE HAL, Prince of Wales and heir to the throne, later KING HENRY V +Younger sons of King Henry IV: + JOHN OF LANCASTER + THOMAS OF CLARENCE + HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND, Henry Percy +NORTHUMBERLAND'S WIFE +LADY PERCY, widow of Hotspur +In rebellion against King Henry IV: + Richard Scroop, ARCHBISHOP of York + LORD MOWBRAY + LORD HASTINGS + LORD BARDOLPH + TRAVERS + MORTON + SIR JOHN COLEVILE +Supporters of King Henry IV: + EARL OF WESTMORELAND + EARL OF WARWICK + EARL OF SURREY + SIR JOHN BLUNT + GOWER + HARCOURT +LORD CHIEF JUSTICE +SIR JOHN FALSTAFF +POINS +BARDOLPH +PETO +PISTOL +FALSTAFF'S PAGE +HOSTESS of the tavern (also called Mistress Quickly) +DOLL TEARSHEET +JUSTICE ROBERT SHALLOW +JUSTICE SILENCE +DAVY, servant to Shallow +Men of Gloucestershire: + MOULDY + SHADOW + WART + FEEBLE + BULLCALF +London officers: + FANG + SNARE +EPILOGUE +Drawers, Musicians, Beadles, Grooms, Messenger, Soldiers, Lords, Attendants, Page, Porter, Servants, Officers + + +INDUCTION +========= +[Enter Rumor, painted full of tongues.] + + +RUMOR +Open your ears, for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumor speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth. +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world. +And who but Rumor, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defense +Whiles the big year, swoll'n with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumor is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wav'ring multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumor here? +I run before King Harry's victory, +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? My office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the King before the Douglas' rage +Stooped his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumored through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learnt of me. From Rumor's +tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. +[Rumor exits.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Lord Bardolph at one door.] + + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +[Enter the Porter.] + +Where is the Earl? + +PORTER +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH Tell thou the Earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +PORTER +His Lordship is walked forth into the orchard. +Please it your Honor knock but at the gate +And he himself will answer. + +[Enter the Earl Northumberland, his head wrapped in a +kerchief and supporting himself with a crutch.] + + +LORD BARDOLPH Here comes the Earl. +[Porter exits.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem. +The times are wild. Contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH As good as heart can wish. +The King is almost wounded to the death, +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Killed by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day, +So fought, so followed, and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times +Since Caesar's fortunes. + +NORTHUMBERLAND How is this derived? +Saw you the field? Came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely rendered me these news for true. + +[Enter Travers.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, who I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I overrode him on the way, +And he is furnished with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turned me back +With joyful tidings and, being better horsed, +Outrode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He asked the way to Chester, and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury. +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that he gave his able horse the head +And, bending forward, struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seemed in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Ha? Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur, Coldspur? That rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH My lord, I'll tell you what: +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honor, for a silken point +I'll give my barony. Never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stol'n +The horse he rode on and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. + +[Enter Morton.] + +Look, here comes more news. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume. +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witnessed usurpation.-- +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord, +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woebegone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say: "Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas"-- +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds. +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with "Brother, son, and all are dead." + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother yet, +But for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes +That what he feared is chanced. Yet speak, +Morton. +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid, +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye. +Thou shak'st thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so. +The tongue offends not that reports his death; +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell +Remembered tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON, [to Northumberland] +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen, +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and outbreathed, +To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best-tempered courage in his troops; +For from his mettle was his party steeled, +Which, once in him abated, all the rest +Turned on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. +And as the thing that's heavy in itself +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester +So soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-laboring sword +Had three times slain th' appearance of the King, +Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turned their backs and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the King hath won and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic, and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well. +And as the wretch whose fever-weakened joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weakened with grief, being now enraged with +grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence therefore, thou +nice crutch. [He throws down his crutch.] +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand. And hence, thou sickly +coif. [He removes his kerchief.] +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, fleshed with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron, and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon th' enraged Northumberland. +Let heaven kiss Earth! Now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined. Let order die, +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the firstborn Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead. + +LORD BARDOLPH +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +MORTON +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honor. +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health, the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast th' event of war, my noble lord, +And summed the accompt of chance before you +said +"Let us make head." It was your presurmise +That in the dole of blows your son might drop. +You knew he walked o'er perils on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er. +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger +ranged. +Yet did you say "Go forth," and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n, +Or what did this bold enterprise bring forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought out life, 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril feared; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time.--And, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth: +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers. He is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word "rebellion" did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls, +And they did fight with queasiness, constrained, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seemed on our side. But, for their spirits and +souls, +This word "rebellion," it had froze them up +As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop +Turns insurrection to religion. +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind, +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret +stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before, but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge. +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed. +Never so few, and never yet more need. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff, with his Page bearing his sword +and buckler.] + + +FALSTAFF Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my +water? + +PAGE He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water, but, for the party that owed it, he might have +more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. +The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is +not able to invent anything that intends to laughter +more than I invent, or is invented on me. I am not +only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in +other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow +that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +Prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be +worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now, but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master for a jewel. The +juvenal, the Prince your master, whose chin is not +yet fledge--I will sooner have a beard grow in the +palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek, +and yet he will not stick to say his face is a face +royal. God may finish it when He will. 'Tis not a hair +amiss yet. He may keep it still at a face royal, for a +barber shall never earn sixpence out of it, and yet +he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his +father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, +but he's almost out of mine, I can assure him. What +said Master Dommelton about the satin for my +short cloak and my slops? + +PAGE He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph. He would not take his +band and yours. He liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF Let him be damned like the glutton! Pray +God his tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel, a +rascally yea-forsooth knave, to bear a gentleman in +hand and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smoothy-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes +and bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +"security." I looked he should have sent me two-and-twenty +yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and +he sends me "security." Well, he may sleep in +security, for he hath the horn of abundance, and the +lightness of his wife shines through it, and yet +cannot he see though he have his own lantern to +light him. Where's Bardolph? + +PAGE He's gone in Smithfield to buy your Worship a +horse. + +FALSTAFF I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a +horse in Smithfield. An I could get me but a wife in +the stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +[Enter Lord Chief Justice and Servant.] + + +PAGE, [to Falstaff] Sir, here comes the nobleman that +committed the Prince for striking him about +Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF Wait close. I will not see him. +[They begin to exit.] + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Servant] What's he that goes there? + +SERVANT Falstaff, an 't please your Lordship. + +CHIEF JUSTICE He that was in question for the robbery? + +SERVANT He, my lord; but he hath since done good +service at Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going +with some charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. + +CHIEF JUSTICE What, to York? Call him back again. + +SERVANT Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +PAGE You must speak louder. My master is deaf. + +CHIEF JUSTICE I am sure he is, to the hearing of +anything good.--Go pluck him by the elbow. I must +speak with him. + +SERVANT, [plucking Falstaff's sleeve] Sir John! + +FALSTAFF What, a young knave and begging? Is there +not wars? Is there not employment? Doth not the +King lack subjects? Do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is +worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +SERVANT You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF Why sir, did I say you were an honest man? +Setting my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I +had lied in my throat if I had said so. + +SERVANT I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and +your soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat if you say I am any other than +an honest man. + +FALSTAFF I give thee leave to tell me so? I lay aside that +which grows to me? If thou gett'st any leave of me, +hang me; if thou tak'st leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter. Hence! Avaunt! + +SERVANT Sir, my lord would speak with you. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF My good lord. God give your Lordship good +time of the day. I am glad to see your Lordship +abroad. I heard say your Lordship was sick. I hope +your Lordship goes abroad by advice. Your Lordship, +though not clean past your youth, have yet +some smack of an ague in you, some relish of the +saltness of time in you, and I most humbly beseech +your Lordship to have a reverend care of your +health. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, I sent for you before your +expedition to Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF An 't please your Lordship, I hear his Majesty +is returned with some discomfort from Wales. + +CHIEF JUSTICE I talk not of his Majesty. You would not +come when I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF And I hear, moreover, his Highness is fallen +into this same whoreson apoplexy. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God mend him. I pray you let me +speak with you. + +FALSTAFF This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of +lethargy, an 't please your Lordship, a kind of +sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling. + +CHIEF JUSTICE What tell you me of it? Be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF It hath it original from much grief, from +study, and perturbation of the brain. I have read the +cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kind of deafness. + +CHIEF JUSTICE I think you are fallen into the disease, +for you hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF Very well, my lord, very well. Rather, an 't +please you, it is the disease of not listening, the +malady of not marking, that I am troubled withal. + +CHIEF JUSTICE To punish you by the heels would amend +the attention of your ears, and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so +patient. Your Lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty, but how +I should be your patient to follow your prescriptions, +the wise may make some dram of a scruple, +or indeed a scruple itself. + +CHIEF JUSTICE I sent for you, when there were matters +against you for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF As I was then advised by my learned counsel +in the laws of this land-service, I did not come. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in +great infamy. + +FALSTAFF He that buckles himself in my belt cannot +live in less. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Your means are very slender, and your +waste is great. + +FALSTAFF I would it were otherwise. I would my means +were greater and my waist slender. + +CHIEF JUSTICE You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF The young prince hath misled me. I am the +fellow with the great belly, and he my dog. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed +wound. Your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a +little gilded over your night's exploit on Gad's Hill. +You may thank th' unquiet time for your quiet +o'erposting that action. + +FALSTAFF My lord. + +CHIEF JUSTICE But since all is well, keep it so. Wake not +a sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. + +CHIEF JUSTICE What, you are as a candle, the better +part burnt out. + +FALSTAFF A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow. If I did +say of wax, my growth would approve the truth. + +CHIEF JUSTICE There is not a white hair in your face but +should have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. + +CHIEF JUSTICE You follow the young prince up and +down like his ill angel. + +FALSTAFF Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light, but I +hope he that looks upon me will take me without +weighing. And yet in some respects I grant I cannot +go. I cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermongers' times that true valor is turned bearherd; +pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath his +quick wit wasted in giving reckonings. All the other +gifts appurtenant to man, as the malice of this age +shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. You that +are old consider not the capacities of us that are +young. You do measure the heat of our livers with +the bitterness of your galls, and we that are in the +vaward of our youth, I must confess, are wags too. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Do you set down your name in the scroll +of youth, that are written down old with all the +characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry +hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing +leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, +your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, +and every part about you blasted with antiquity? +And will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir +John. + +FALSTAFF My lord, I was born about three of the clock +in the afternoon, with a white head and something +a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with +halloing and singing of anthems. To approve my +youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am only old +in judgment and understanding. And he that will +caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend +me the money, and have at him. For the box of the +ear that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a rude +prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +checked him for it, and the young lion repents. +[Aside.] Marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in +new silk and old sack. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, God send the Prince a better +companion. + +FALSTAFF God send the companion a better prince. I +cannot rid my hands of him. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, the King hath severed you and +Prince Harry. I hear you are going with Lord John +of Lancaster against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But +look you pray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at +home, that our armies join not in a hot day, for, by +the Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I +mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If it be a hot day +and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous +action can peep out his head but I am thrust +upon it. Well, I cannot last ever. But it was always +yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a +good thing, to make it too common. If you will +needs say I am an old man, you should give me rest. +I would to God my name were not so terrible to the +enemy as it is. I were better to be eaten to death +with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with +perpetual motion. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Well, be honest, be honest, and God +bless your expedition. + +FALSTAFF Will your Lordship lend me a thousand +pound to furnish me forth? + +CHIEF JUSTICE Not a penny, not a penny. You are too +impatient to bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend +me to my cousin Westmoreland. +[Lord Chief Justice and his Servant exit.] + +FALSTAFF If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A +man can no more separate age and covetousness +than he can part young limbs and lechery; but the +gout galls the one, and the pox pinches the other, +and so both the degrees prevent my curses.--Boy! + +PAGE Sir. + +FALSTAFF What money is in my purse? + +PAGE Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF I can get no remedy against this consumption +of the purse. Borrowing only lingers and lingers +it out, but the disease is incurable. [Giving +papers to the Page.] Go bear this letter to my Lord +of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earl +of Westmoreland, and this to old Mistress Ursula, +whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I perceived +the first white hair of my chin. About it. You +know where to find me. [Page exits.] A pox of this +gout! Or a gout of this pox, for the one or the other +plays the rogue with my great toe. 'Tis no matter if I +do halt. I have the wars for my color, and my +pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit +will make use of anything. I will turn diseases to +commodity. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter th' Archbishop of York, Thomas Mowbray (Earl +Marshal), the Lord Hastings, and Lord Bardolph.] + + +ARCHBISHOP +Thus have you heard our cause and known our +means, +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes. +And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms, +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the King. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five-and-twenty thousand men of choice, +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question, then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus: +Whether our present five-and-twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland. + +HASTINGS +With him we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH Yea, marry, there's the point. +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand. +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this, +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph, for indeed +It was young Hotspur's cause at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air and promise of supply, +Flatt'ring himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts, +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And, winking, leapt into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war -- +Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-- +Lives so in hope, as in an early spring +We see th' appearing buds, which to prove fruit +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model, +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection, +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at least desist +To build at all? Much more in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite. Or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men, +Like one that draws the model of an house +Beyond his power to build it, who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be stillborn and that we now possessed +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the King. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the King but five-and-twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more, nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph, +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us. So is the unfirm king +In three divided, and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance +Need not to be dreaded. + +HASTINGS If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarmed, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels. Never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth; +But who is substituted against the French +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice. +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited. +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be. +And being now trimmed in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him +That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard, +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these +times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die +Are now become enamored on his grave. +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now "O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!" O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present, +worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids begone. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hostess Quickly of the tavern with two Officers, +Fang and Snare, who lags behind.] + + +HOSTESS Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG It is entered. + +HOSTESS Where's your yeoman? Is 't a lusty yeoman? +Will he stand to 't? + +FANG, [calling] Sirrah! Where's Snare? + +HOSTESS O Lord, ay, good Master Snare. + +SNARE, [catching up to them] Here, here. + +FANG Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +HOSTESS Yea, good Master Snare, I have entered him +and all. + +SNARE It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he +will stab. + +HOSTESS Alas the day, take heed of him. He stabbed me +in mine own house, and that most beastly, in good +faith. He cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out, he will foin like any devil. He will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +HOSTESS No, nor I neither. I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG An I but fist him once, an he come but within my +view-- + +HOSTESS I am undone by his going. I warrant you, he's +an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master +Fang, hold him sure. Good Master Snare, let him +not 'scape. He comes continuantly to Pie Corner, +saving your manhoods, to buy a saddle, and he is +indited to dinner to the Lubber's Head in Lumbert +Street, to Master Smooth's the silkman. I pray you, +since my exion is entered, and my case so openly +known to the world, let him be brought in to his +answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor +lone woman to bear, and I have borne, and borne, +and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed +off, and fubbed off from this day to that day, that it is +a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in +such dealing, unless a woman should be made an +ass and a beast to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder +he comes, and that arrant malmsey-nose knave, +Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices, +Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, +do me your offices. + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff and Bardolph, and the Page.] + + +FALSTAFF How now, whose mare's dead? What's the +matter? + +FANG Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress +Quickly. + +FALSTAFF Away, varlets!--Draw, Bardolph. Cut me off +the villain's head. Throw the quean in the +channel. [They draw.] + +HOSTESS Throw me in the channel? I'll throw thee in +the channel. Wilt thou, wilt thou, thou bastardly +rogue?--Murder, murder!--Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain, wilt thou kill God's officers and the King's? +Ah, thou honeyseed rogue, thou art a honeyseed, a +man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF Keep them off, Bardolph. + +OFFICERS A rescue, a rescue! + +HOSTESS Good people, bring a rescue or two.--Thou +wot, wot thou? Thou wot, wot ta? Do, do, thou +rogue. Do, thou hempseed. + +PAGE Away, you scullion, you rampallian, you fustilarian! +I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +[Enter Lord Chief Justice and his Men.] + + +CHIEF JUSTICE +What is the matter? Keep the peace here, ho! + +HOSTESS Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you +stand to me. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +How now, Sir John? What, are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time, and +business? +You should have been well on your way to York.-- +Stand from him, fellow. Wherefore hang'st thou +upon him? + +HOSTESS O my most worshipful lord, an 't please your +Grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is +arrested at my suit. + +CHIEF JUSTICE For what sum? + +HOSTESS It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all I +have. He hath eaten me out of house and home. He +hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his. +[To Falstaff.] But I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF I think I am as like to ride the mare if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. + +CHIEF JUSTICE How comes this, Sir John? Fie, what +man of good temper would endure this tempest of +exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a +poor widow to so rough a course to come by her +own? + +FALSTAFF What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +HOSTESS Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself +and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin chamber at +the round table by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday +in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head +for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor, +thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy +wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife. +Canst thou deny it? Did not Goodwife Keech, the +butcher's wife, come in then and call me Gossip +Quickly, coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar, +telling us she had a good dish of prawns, whereby +thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told thee +they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, +when she was gone downstairs, desire me to be no +more so familiarity with such poor people, saying +that ere long they should call me madam? And didst +thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee thirty +shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it if +thou canst. + +FALSTAFF My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says +up and down the town that her eldest son is like +you. She hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But, for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against +them. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted +with your manner of wrenching the true cause the +false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng +of words that come with such more than impudent +sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level +consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practiced +upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, +and made her serve your uses both in purse and in +person. + +HOSTESS Yea, in truth, my lord. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Pray thee, peace.--Pay her the debt you +owe her, and unpay the villainy you have done with +her. The one you may do with sterling money, and +the other with current repentance. + +FALSTAFF My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honorable boldness "impudent +sauciness." If a man will make curtsy and say +nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say to +you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the King's affairs. + +CHIEF JUSTICE You speak as having power to do wrong; +but answer in th' effect of your reputation, and +satisfy the poor woman. + +FALSTAFF Come hither, hostess. +[He speaks aside to the Hostess.] + +[Enter a Messenger, Master Gower.] + + +CHIEF JUSTICE Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The King, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand. The rest the paper tells. +[He gives the Chief Justice a paper to read.] + +FALSTAFF, [to the Hostess] As I am a gentleman! + +HOSTESS Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF As I am a gentleman. Come. No more words +of it. + +HOSTESS By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be +fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining chambers. + +FALSTAFF Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking. And for +thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the +Prodigal or the German hunting in waterwork is +worth a thousand of these bed-hangers and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humors, there's +not a better wench in England. Go wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in this +humor with me. Dost not know me? Come, come. I +know thou wast set on to this. + +HOSTESS Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty +nobles. I' faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God +save me, la. + +FALSTAFF Let it alone. I'll make other shift. You'll be a +fool still. + +HOSTESS Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my +gown. I hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay +me all together? + +FALSTAFF Will I live? [Aside to Bardolph.] Go with her, +with her. Hook on, hook on. + +HOSTESS Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at +supper? + +FALSTAFF No more words. Let's have her. +[Hostess, Fang, Snare, Bardolph, Page, +and others exit.] + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Gower] I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF, [to Chief Justice] What's the news, my good +lord? + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Gower] Where lay the King +tonight? + +GOWER At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF, [to Chief Justice] I hope, my lord, all's +well. What is the news, my lord? + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Gower] Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No. Fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse +Are marched up to my Lord of Lancaster +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF, [to Chief Justice] +Comes the King back from Wales, my noble lord? + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Gower] +You shall have letters of me presently. +Come. Go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF My lord! + +CHIEF JUSTICE What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to +dinner? + +GOWER I must wait upon my good lord here. I thank +you, good Sir John. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Sir John, you loiter here too long, being +you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF Will you sup with me, Master Gower? + +CHIEF JUSTICE What foolish master taught you these +manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF Master Gower, if they become me not, he was +a fool that taught them me.--This is the right +fencing grace, my lord: tap for tap, and so part fair. + +CHIEF JUSTICE Now the Lord lighten thee. Thou art a +great fool. +[They separate and exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Prince and Poins.] + + +PRINCE Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS Is 't come to that? I had thought weariness durst +not have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE Faith, it does me, though it discolors the complexion +of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it +not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied +as to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE Belike then my appetite was not princely got, +for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor +creature small beer. But indeed these humble considerations +make me out of love with my greatness. +What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name, +or to know thy face tomorrow, or to take note how +many pair of silk stockings thou hast--with these, +and those that were thy peach-colored ones--or to +bear the inventory of thy shirts, as, one for superfluity +and another for use. But that the tennis-court +keeper knows better than I, for it is a low ebb of +linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there, +as thou hast not done a great while, because the rest +of the low countries have made a shift to eat up thy +holland; and God knows whether those that bawl +out the ruins of thy linen shall inherit His kingdom; +but the midwives say the children are not in the +fault, whereupon the world increases and kindreds +are mightily strengthened. + +POINS How ill it follows, after you have labored so +hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many +good young princes would do so, their fathers being +so sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS Yes, faith, and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding +than thine. + +POINS Go to. I stand the push of your one thing that +you will tell. + +PRINCE Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick--albeit I could tell to +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to +call my friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed too. + +POINS Very hardly, upon such a subject. + +PRINCE By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the +devil's book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency. Let the end try the man. But I tell thee, +my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick; +and keeping such vile company as thou art hath in +reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS The reason? + +PRINCE What wouldst thou think of me if I should +weep? + +POINS I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE It would be every man's thought, and thou art +a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks. Never +a man's thought in the world keeps the roadway +better than thine. Every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful +thought to think so? + +POINS Why, because you have been so lewd and so +much engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE And to thee. + +POINS By this light, I am well spoke on. I can hear it +with mine own ears. The worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother, and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the Mass, here comes +Bardolph. + +[Enter Bardolph and Page.] + + +PRINCE And the boy that I gave Falstaff. He had him +from me Christian, and look if the fat villain have +not transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH God save your Grace. + +PRINCE And yours, most noble Bardolph. + +POINS, [to Bardolph] Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful +fool, must you be blushing? Wherefore blush +you now? What a maidenly man-at-arms are you +become! Is 't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's +maidenhead? + +PAGE He calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from +the window. At last I spied his eyes, and methought +he had made two holes in the ale-wife's new +petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH, [to Page] Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, +away! + +PAGE Away, you rascally Althea's dream, away! + +PRINCE Instruct us, boy. What dream, boy? + +PAGE Marry, my lord, Althea dreamt she was delivered +of a firebrand, and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE A crown's worth of good interpretation. There +'tis, boy. [He gives the Page money.] + +POINS O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. +[He gives the Page money.] + +BARDOLPH An you do not make him be hanged among +you, the gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH Well, my good lord. He heard of your +Grace's coming to town. There's a letter for you. +[He gives the Prince a paper.] + +POINS Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +Martlemas your master? + +BARDOLPH In bodily health, sir. + +POINS Marry, the immortal part needs a physician, but +that moves not him. Though that be sick, it dies not. + +PRINCE I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as +my dog, and he holds his place, for look you how he +writes. [He shows the letter to Poins.] + +POINS [reads the superscription] John Falstaff, knight. +Every man must know that as oft as he has occasion +to name himself, even like those that are kin to the +King, for they never prick their finger but they say +"There's some of the King's blood spilt." "How +comes that?" says he that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap: "I am the King's poor cousin, sir." + +PRINCE Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japheth. But to the letter: [Reads.] Sir John +Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King nearest his +father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting. + +POINS Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE Peace! +[Reads.] I will imitate the honorable Romans in +brevity. + +POINS He sure means brevity in breath, short-winded. + +PRINCE [reads] I commend me to thee, I commend thee, +and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins, for he +misuses thy favors so much that he swears thou art to +marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou +mayst, and so farewell. + Thine by yea and no, which is as much as +to say, as thou usest him, +Jack Falstaff with my familiars, +John with my brothers and sisters, and +Sir John with all Europe. + +POINS My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make +him eat it. + +PRINCE That's to make him eat twenty of his words. +But do you use me thus, Ned? Must I marry your +sister? + +POINS God send the wench no worse fortune! But I +never said so. + +PRINCE Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and +the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +[To Bardolph.] Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE Where sups he? Doth the old boar feed in the +old frank? + +BARDOLPH At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE What company? + +PAGE Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE Sup any women with him? + +PAGE None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE What pagan may that be? + +PAGE A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of +my master's. + +PRINCE Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the +town bull.--Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at +supper? + +POINS I am your shadow, my lord. I'll follow you. + +PRINCE Sirrah--you, boy--and Bardolph, no word to +your master that I am yet come to town. There's for +your silence. [He gives money.] + +BARDOLPH I have no tongue, sir. + +PAGE And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE Fare you well. Go. [Bardolph and Page exit.] +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS I warrant you, as common as the way between +Saint Albans and London. + +PRINCE How might we see Falstaff bestow himself +tonight in his true colors, and not ourselves be +seen? + +POINS Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and +wait upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE From a god to a bull: a heavy descension. It +was Jove's case. From a prince to a 'prentice: a low +transformation that shall be mine, for in everything +the purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, +Ned. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Northumberland, his wife, and the wife to +Harry Percy.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs. +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be, like them, to Percy troublesome. + +LADY NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over. I will speak no more. +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honor is at pawn, +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars. +The time was, father, that you broke your word +When you were more endeared to it than now, +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honors lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it. +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the gray vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. +He had no legs that practiced not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse +To seem like him. So that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humors of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashioned others. And him--O wondrous him! +O miracle of men!--him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage, to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible. So you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honor more precise and nice +With others than with him. Let them alone. +The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong. +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +Today might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talked of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Beshrew your +heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. + +LADY NORTHUMBERLAND O, fly to Scotland +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the King, +Then join you with them like a rib of steel +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffered. So came I a widow, +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swelled up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way. +Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland. There am I +Till time and vantage crave my company. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Francis and another Drawer.] + + +FRANCIS What the devil hast thou brought there-- +applejohns? Thou knowest Sir John cannot endure +an applejohn. + +SECOND DRAWER Mass, thou sayst true. The Prince +once set a dish of applejohns before him and told +him there were five more Sir Johns and, putting off +his hat, said "I will now take my leave of these six +dry, round, old, withered knights." It angered him +to the heart. But he hath forgot that. + +FRANCIS Why then, cover and set them down, and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise. Mistress Tearsheet +would fain hear some music. Dispatch. The +room where they supped is too hot. They'll come in +straight. + +[Enter Will.] + + +WILL Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master +Poins anon, and they will put on two of our jerkins +and aprons, and Sir John must not know of it. +Bardolph hath brought word. + +SECOND DRAWER By the Mass, here will be old utis. It +will be an excellent stratagem. + +FRANCIS I'll see if I can find out Sneak. +[He exits with the Second Drawer.] + +[Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet.] + + +HOSTESS I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in +an excellent good temperality. Your pulsidge beats +as extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your +color, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la. But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries, and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say "What's +this?" How do you now? + +DOLL Better than I was. Hem. + +HOSTESS Why, that's well said. A good heart's worth +gold. Lo, here comes Sir John. + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF, [singing] +When Arthur first in court-- +[To Will.] Empty the jordan. [Will exits.] +And was a worthy king-- +How now, Mistress Doll? + +HOSTESS Sick of a calm, yea, good faith. + +FALSTAFF So is all her sect. An they be once in a calm, +they are sick. + +DOLL A pox damn you, you muddy rascal. Is that all the +comfort you give me? + +FALSTAFF You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. + +DOLL I make them? Gluttony and diseases make them; +I make them not. + +FALSTAFF If the cook help to make the gluttony, you +help to make the diseases, Doll. We catch of you, +Doll, we catch of you. Grant that, my poor virtue, +grant that. + +DOLL Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels. + +FALSTAFF Your brooches, pearls, and ouches--for to +serve bravely is to come halting off, you know; to +come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and +to surgery bravely, to venture upon the charged +chambers bravely-- + +DOLL Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself! + +HOSTESS By my troth, this is the old fashion. You two +never meet but you fall to some discord. You are +both, i' good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts. +You cannot one bear with another's confirmities. +What the good-year! One must bear, and [to Doll] +that must be you. You are the weaker vessel, as they +say, the emptier vessel. + +DOLL Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full +hogshead? There's a whole merchant's venture of +Bordeaux stuff in him. You have not seen a hulk +better stuffed in the hold.--Come, I'll be friends +with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars, and +whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is +nobody cares. + +[Enter Drawer.] + + +DRAWER Sir, Ancient Pistol's below and would speak +with you. + +DOLL Hang him, swaggering rascal! Let him not come +hither. It is the foul-mouthed'st rogue in England. + +HOSTESS If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by +my faith, I must live among my neighbors. I'll no +swaggerers. I am in good name and fame with the +very best. Shut the door. There comes no swaggerers +here. I have not lived all this while to have +swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you. + +FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, hostess? + +HOSTESS Pray you pacify yourself, Sir John. There +comes no swaggerers here. + +FALSTAFF Dost thou hear? It is mine ancient. + +HOSTESS Tilly-vally, Sir John, ne'er tell me. And your +ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was +before Master Tisick the debuty t' other day, and, as +he said to me--'twas no longer ago than Wednesday +last, i' good faith--"Neighbor Quickly," says +he--Master Dumb, our minister, was by then-- +"Neighbor Quickly," says he, "receive those that +are civil, for," said he, "you are in an ill name." +Now he said so, I can tell whereupon. "For," says +he, "you are an honest woman, and well thought +on. Therefore take heed what guests you receive. +Receive," says he, "no swaggering companions." +There comes none here. You would bless you to +hear what he said. No, I'll no swaggerers. + +FALSTAFF He's no swaggerer, hostess, a tame cheater, i' +faith. You may stroke him as gently as a puppy +greyhound. He'll not swagger with a Barbary hen if +her feathers turn back in any show of resistance.-- +Call him up, drawer. [Drawer exits.] + +HOSTESS "Cheater" call you him? I will bar no honest +man my house, nor no cheater, but I do not love +swaggering. By my troth, I am the worse when one +says "swagger." Feel, masters, how I shake; look +you, I warrant you. + +DOLL So you do, hostess. + +HOSTESS Do I? Yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an +aspen leaf. I cannot abide swaggerers. + +[Enter Ancient Pistol, Bardolph, and Page.] + + +PISTOL God save you, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I +charge you with a cup of sack. Do you discharge +upon mine hostess. + +PISTOL I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two +bullets. + +FALSTAFF She is pistol-proof. Sir, you shall not hardly +offend her. + +HOSTESS Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets. I'll +drink no more than will do me good, for no man's +pleasure, I. + +PISTOL Then, to you, Mistress Dorothy! I will charge +you. + +DOLL Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. +What, you poor, base, rascally, cheating lack-linen +mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for +your master. + +PISTOL I know you, Mistress Dorothy. + +DOLL Away, you cutpurse rascal, you filthy bung, away! +By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy +chaps an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, +you bottle-ale rascal, you basket-hilt stale juggler, +you. Since when, I pray you, sir? God's light, with +two points on your shoulder? Much! + +PISTOL God let me not live but I will murder your ruff +for this. + +FALSTAFF No more, Pistol. I would not have you go off +here. Discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. + +HOSTESS No, good Captain Pistol, not here, sweet +captain! + +DOLL Captain? Thou abominable damned cheater, art +thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains +were of my mind, they would truncheon you out for +taking their names upon you before you have +earned them. You a captain? You slave, for what? +For tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy house? +He a captain! Hang him, rogue. He lives upon +mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain? +God's light, these villains will make the word as +odious as the word "occupy," which was an excellent +good word before it was ill sorted. Therefore +captains had need look to 't. + +BARDOLPH, [to Pistol] Pray thee go down, good ancient. + +FALSTAFF Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll. + +PISTOL, [to Bardolph] Not I. I tell thee what, Corporal +Bardolph, I could tear her. I'll be revenged of her. + +PAGE Pray thee go down. + +PISTOL I'll see her damned first to Pluto's damned +lake, by this hand, to th' infernal deep with Erebus +and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. +Down, down, dogs! Down, Fates! Have we not +Hiren here? [He draws his sword.] + +HOSTESS Good Captain Peesell, be quiet. 'Tis very late, +i' faith. I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. + +PISTOL These be good humors indeed. Shall pack-horses +and hollow pampered jades of Asia, which +cannot go but thirty mile a day, compare with +Caesars and with cannibals and Troyant Greeks? +Nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus, and let +the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys? + +HOSTESS By my troth, captain, these are very bitter +words. + +BARDOLPH Begone, good ancient. This will grow to a +brawl anon. + +PISTOL Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have +we not Hiren here? + +HOSTESS O' my word, captain, there's none such here. +What the good-year, do you think I would deny her? +For God's sake, be quiet. + +PISTOL Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis. Come, +give 's some sack. Si fortune me tormente, sperato +me contento. Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend +give fire. Give me some sack, and, sweetheart, lie +thou there. [Laying down his sword.] Come we to +full points here? And are etceteras nothings? + +FALSTAFF Pistol, I would be quiet. + +PISTOL Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What, we have +seen the seven stars. + +DOLL For God's sake, thrust him downstairs. I cannot +endure such a fustian rascal. + +PISTOL "Thrust him downstairs"? Know we not Galloway +nags? + +FALSTAFF Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat +shilling. Nay, an he do nothing but speak +nothing, he shall be nothing here. + +BARDOLPH Come, get you downstairs. + +PISTOL, [taking up his sword] What, shall we have +incision? Shall we imbrue? Then death rock me +asleep, abridge my doleful days. Why then, let +grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds untwind the Sisters +Three. Come, Atropos, I say. + +HOSTESS Here's goodly stuff toward! + +FALSTAFF Give me my rapier, boy. + +DOLL I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee do not draw. + +FALSTAFF, [to Pistol] Get you downstairs. [They fight.] + +HOSTESS Here's a goodly tumult. I'll forswear keeping +house afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So, +murder, I warrant now. Alas, alas, put up your +naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. +[Bardolph and Pistol exit.] + +DOLL I pray thee, Jack, be quiet. The rascal's gone. Ah, +you whoreson little valiant villain, you. + +HOSTESS, [to Falstaff] Are you not hurt i' th' groin? +Methought he made a shrewd thrust at your belly. + +[Enter Bardolph.] + + +FALSTAFF Have you turned him out o' doors? + +BARDOLPH Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk. You have hurt +him, sir, i' th' shoulder. + +FALSTAFF A rascal to brave me! + +DOLL Ah, you sweet little rogue, you. Alas, poor ape, +how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face. +Come on, you whoreson chops. Ah, rogue, i' faith, I +love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, +worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better +than the Nine Worthies. Ah, villain! + +FALSTAFF Ah, rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a +blanket. + +DOLL Do, an thou darest for thy heart. An thou dost, I'll +canvass thee between a pair of sheets. + +[Enter Musicians and Francis.] + + +PAGE The music is come, sir. + +FALSTAFF Let them play.--Play, sirs.--Sit on my knee, +Doll. A rascal bragging slave! The rogue fled from +me like quicksilver. + +DOLL I' faith, and thou followed'st him like a church. +Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, +when wilt thou leave fighting a-days and foining a-nights +and begin to patch up thine old body for +heaven? + +[Enter behind them Prince and Poins disguised.] + + +FALSTAFF Peace, good Doll. Do not speak like a death's-head; +do not bid me remember mine end. + +DOLL Sirrah, what humor's the Prince of? + +FALSTAFF A good shallow young fellow, he would have +made a good pantler; he would 'a chipped bread +well. + +DOLL They say Poins has a good wit. + +FALSTAFF He a good wit? Hang him, baboon. His wit's +as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. There's no more +conceit in him than is in a mallet. + +DOLL Why does the Prince love him so then? + +FALSTAFF Because their legs are both of a bigness, and +he plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, +and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons, and +rides the wild mare with the boys, and jumps upon +joint stools, and swears with a good grace, and +wears his boots very smooth like unto the sign of +the Leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discreet +stories, and such other gambol faculties he has that +show a weak mind and an able body, for the which +the Prince admits him; for the Prince himself is +such another. The weight of a hair will turn the +scales between their avoirdupois. + +PRINCE, [aside to Poins] Would not this nave of a wheel +have his ears cut off? + +POINS Let's beat him before his whore. + +PRINCE Look whe'er the withered elder hath not his +poll clawed like a parrot. + +POINS Is it not strange that desire should so many years +outlive performance? + +FALSTAFF Kiss me, Doll. + +PRINCE, [aside to Poins] Saturn and Venus this year in +conjunction! What says th' almanac to that? + +POINS And look whether the fiery trigon, his man, be +not lisping to his master's old tables, his notebook, +his counsel keeper. + +FALSTAFF, [to Doll] Thou dost give me flattering busses. + +DOLL By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant +heart. + +FALSTAFF I am old, I am old. + +DOLL I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young +boy of them all. + +FALSTAFF What stuff wilt thou have a kirtle of? I shall +receive money o' Thursday; thou shalt have a cap +tomorrow. A merry song! Come, it grows late. We'll +to bed. Thou 'lt forget me when I am gone. + +DOLL By my troth, thou 'lt set me a-weeping an thou +sayst so. Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till +thy return. Well, harken a' th' end. + +FALSTAFF Some sack, Francis. + +PRINCE, POINS, [coming forward] Anon, anon, sir. + +FALSTAFF Ha? A bastard son of the King's?--And art +not thou Poins his brother? + +PRINCE Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a +life dost thou lead? + +FALSTAFF A better than thou. I am a gentleman. Thou +art a drawer. + +PRINCE Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by +the ears. + +HOSTESS O, the Lord preserve thy good Grace! By my +troth, welcome to London. Now the Lord bless that +sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are you come from +Wales? + +FALSTAFF, [to Prince] Thou whoreson mad compound +of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, +thou art welcome. + +DOLL How? You fat fool, I scorn you. + +POINS My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge +and turn all to a merriment if you take not the heat. + +PRINCE, [to Falstaff] You whoreson candle-mine, you, +how vilely did you speak of me even now before +this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman! + +HOSTESS God's blessing of your good heart, and so she +is, by my troth. + +FALSTAFF, [to Prince] Didst thou hear me? + +PRINCE Yea, and you knew me as you did when you ran +away by Gad's Hill. You knew I was at your back, +and spoke it on purpose to try my patience. + +FALSTAFF No, no, no, not so. I did not think thou wast +within hearing. + +PRINCE I shall drive you, then, to confess the wilfull +abuse, and then I know how to handle you. + +FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal, o' mine honor, no abuse. + +PRINCE Not to dispraise me and call me pantler and +bread-chipper and I know not what? + +FALSTAFF No abuse, Hal. + +POINS No abuse? + +FALSTAFF No abuse, Ned, i' th' world, honest Ned, +none. I dispraised him before the wicked, [(to +Prince)] that the wicked might not fall in love with +thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a +careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to +give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal.--None, Ned, +none. No, faith, boys, none. + +PRINCE See now whether pure fear and entire cowardice +doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman +to close with us. Is she of the wicked, is +thine hostess here of the wicked, or is thy boy of the +wicked, or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in +his nose, of the wicked? + +POINS Answer, thou dead elm, answer. + +FALSTAFF The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable, +and his face is Lucifer's privy kitchen, +where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For +the boy, there is a good angel about him, but the +devil blinds him too. + +PRINCE For the women? + +FALSTAFF For one of them, she's in hell already and +burns poor souls. For th' other, I owe her money, +and whether she be damned for that I know not. + +HOSTESS No, I warrant you. + +FALSTAFF No, I think thou art not. I think thou art quit +for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon +thee for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house +contrary to the law, for the which I think thou wilt +howl. + +HOSTESS All vitlars do so. What's a joint of mutton or +two in a whole Lent? + +PRINCE, [to Doll] You, gentlewoman. + +DOLL What says your Grace? + +FALSTAFF His grace says that which his flesh rebels +against. +[Peto knocks at door.] + +HOSTESS Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door +there, Francis. [Francis exits.] + +[Enter Peto.] + + +PRINCE Peto, how now, what news? + +PETO +The King your father is at Westminster, +And there are twenty weak and wearied posts +Come from the north, and as I came along +I met and overtook a dozen captains, +Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the taverns +And asking everyone for Sir John Falstaff. + +PRINCE +By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame +So idly to profane the precious time +When tempest of commotion, like the south +Borne with black vapor, doth begin to melt +And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.-- +Give me my sword and cloak.--Falstaff, good +night. [Prince, Peto, and Poins exit.] + +FALSTAFF Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the +night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked. + +[(Knocking. Bardolph exits.)] More knocking at the +door? [(Bardolph returns.)] How now, what's the +matter? + +BARDOLPH +You must away to court, sir, presently. +A dozen captains stay at door for you. + +FALSTAFF, [to Page] Pay the musicians, sirrah.-- +Farewell, hostess.--Farewell, Doll. You see, my +good wenches, how men of merit are sought after. +The undeserver may sleep when the man of action +is called on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent +away post, I will see you again ere I go. + +DOLL I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to +burst--well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. + +FALSTAFF Farewell, farewell. +[He exits with Bardolph, Page, and Musicians.] + +HOSTESS Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these +twenty-nine years, come peasecod time, but an +honester and truer-hearted man--well, fare thee +well. + +BARDOLPH, [within] Mistress Tearsheet! + +HOSTESS What's the matter? + +BARDOLPH, [within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my +master. + +HOSTESS O, run, Doll, run, run, good Doll. Come.-- +She comes blubbered.--Yea! Will you come, Doll? +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the King in his nightgown with a Page.] + + +KING +Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick; +But, ere they come, bid them o'erread these letters +And well consider of them. Make good speed. +[Page exits.] +How many thousand of my poorest subjects +Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, +Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, +That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down +And steep my senses in forgetfulness? +Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, +Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, +And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, +Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, +Under the canopies of costly state, +And lulled with sound of sweetest melody? +O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile +In loathsome beds and leavest the kingly couch +A watch-case or a common 'larum bell? +Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast +Seal up the shipboy's eyes and rock his brains +In cradle of the rude imperious surge +And in the visitation of the winds, +Who take the ruffian billows by the top, +Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them +With deafing clamor in the slippery clouds +That with the hurly death itself awakes? +Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose +To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, +And, in the calmest and most stillest night, +With all appliances and means to boot, +Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down. +Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. + +[Enter Warwick, Surrey and Sir John Blunt.] + + +WARWICK +Many good morrows to your Majesty. + +KING Is it good morrow, lords? + +WARWICK 'Tis one o'clock, and past. + +KING +Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords. +Have you read o'er the letter that I sent you? + +WARWICK We have, my liege. + +KING +Then you perceive the body of our kingdom +How foul it is, what rank diseases grow, +And with what danger near the heart of it. + +WARWICK +It is but as a body yet distempered, +Which to his former strength may be restored +With good advice and little medicine. +My Lord Northumberland will soon be cooled. + +KING +O God, that one might read the book of fate +And see the revolution of the times +Make mountains level, and the continent, +Weary of solid firmness, melt itself +Into the sea, and other times to see +The beachy girdle of the ocean +Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chance's mocks +And changes fill the cup of alteration +With divers liquors! O, if this were seen, +The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, +What perils past, what crosses to ensue, +Would shut the book and sit him down and die. +'Tis not ten years gone +Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends, +Did feast together, and in two years after +Were they at wars. It is but eight years since +This Percy was the man nearest my soul, +Who like a brother toiled in my affairs +And laid his love and life under my foot, +Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard +Gave him defiance. But which of you was by-- +[To Warwick.] You, cousin Nevil, as I may +remember-- +When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears, +Then checked and rated by Northumberland, +Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy? +"Northumberland, thou ladder by the which +My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne"-- +Though then, God knows, I had no such intent, +But that necessity so bowed the state +That I and greatness were compelled to kiss-- +"The time shall come," thus did he follow it, +"The time will come that foul sin, gathering head, +Shall break into corruption"--so went on, +Foretelling this same time's condition +And the division of our amity. + +WARWICK +There is a history in all men's lives +Figuring the natures of the times deceased, +The which observed, a man may prophesy, +With a near aim, of the main chance of things +As yet not come to life, who in their seeds +And weak beginning lie intreasured. +Such things become the hatch and brood of time, +And by the necessary form of this, +King Richard might create a perfect guess +That great Northumberland, then false to him, +Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness, +Which should not find a ground to root upon +Unless on you. + +KING Are these things then necessities? +Then let us meet them like necessities. +And that same word even now cries out on us. +They say the Bishop and Northumberland +Are fifty thousand strong. + +WARWICK It cannot be, my lord. +Rumor doth double, like the voice and echo, +The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace +To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord, +The powers that you already have sent forth +Shall bring this prize in very easily. +To comfort you the more, I have received +A certain instance that Glendower is dead. +Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill, +And these unseasoned hours perforce must add +Unto your sickness. + +KING I will take your counsel. +And were these inward wars once out of hand, +We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Justice Shallow and Justice Silence.] + + +SHALLOW Come on, come on, come on. Give me your +hand, sir, give me your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by +the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence? + +SILENCE Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. + +SHALLOW And how doth my cousin your bedfellow? +And your fairest daughter and mine, my goddaughter +Ellen? + +SILENCE Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow. + +SHALLOW By yea and no, sir. I dare say my cousin +William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford +still, is he not? + +SILENCE Indeed, sir, to my cost. + +SHALLOW He must then to the Inns o' Court shortly. I +was once of Clement's Inn, where I think they will +talk of mad Shallow yet. + +SILENCE You were called "Lusty Shallow" then, +cousin. + +SHALLOW By the Mass, I was called anything, and I +would have done anything indeed too, and roundly +too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, +and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, +and Will Squele, a Cotswold man. You had +not four such swinge-bucklers in all the Inns o' +Court again. And I may say to you, we knew where +the bona robas were and had the best of them all at +commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir +John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of +Norfolk. + +SILENCE This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon +about soldiers? + +SHALLOW The same Sir John, the very same. I see him +break Scoggin's head at the court gate, when he +was a crack not thus high; and the very same day did +I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, +behind Grey's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I +have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance +are dead. + +SILENCE We shall all follow, cousin. + +SHALLOW Certain, 'tis certain, very sure, very sure. +Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all. All +shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford +Fair? + +SILENCE By my troth, cousin, I was not there. + +SHALLOW Death is certain. Is old Dooble of your town +living yet? + +SILENCE Dead, sir. + +SHALLOW Jesu, Jesu, dead! He drew a good bow, and +dead? He shot a fine shoot. John o' Gaunt loved him +well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! He +would have clapped i' th' clout at twelve score, and +carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen +and a half, that it would have done a man's +heart good to see. How a score of ewes now? + +SILENCE Thereafter as they be, a score of good ewes +may be worth ten pounds. + +SHALLOW And is old Dooble dead? + +SILENCE Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as I +think. + +[Enter Bardolph and one with him.] + + +SHALLOW Good morrow, honest gentlemen. + +BARDOLPH I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow? + +SHALLOW I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of +this county and one of the King's justices of the +peace. What is your good pleasure with me? + +BARDOLPH My captain, sir, commends him to you, my +captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by +heaven, and a most gallant leader. + +SHALLOW He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good +backsword man. How doth the good knight? May I +ask how my lady his wife doth? + +BARDOLPH Sir, pardon. A soldier is better accommodated +than with a wife. + +SHALLOW It is well said, in faith, sir, and it is well said +indeed too. "Better accommodated." It is good, +yea, indeed is it. Good phrases are surely, and ever +were, very commendable. "Accommodated." It +comes of accommodo. Very good, a good phrase. + +BARDOLPH Pardon, sir, I have heard the word-- +"phrase" call you it? By this day, I know not the +phrase, but I will maintain the word with my sword +to be a soldierlike word, and a word of exceeding +good command, by heaven. "Accommodated," that +is when a man is, as they say, accommodated, or +when a man is being whereby he may be thought to +be accommodated, which is an excellent thing. + +[Enter Falstaff.] + + +SHALLOW It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir +John.--Give me your good hand, give me your +Worship's good hand. By my troth, you like well and +bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John. + +FALSTAFF I am glad to see you well, good Master +Robert Shallow.--Master Sure-card, as I think? + +SHALLOW No, Sir John. It is my cousin Silence, in +commission with me. + +FALSTAFF Good Master Silence, it well befits you +should be of the peace. + +SILENCE Your good Worship is welcome. + +FALSTAFF Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you +provided me here half a dozen sufficient men? + +SHALLOW Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit? +[They sit at a table.] + +FALSTAFF Let me see them, I beseech you. + +SHALLOW Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Where's +the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, +so, so, so. So, so. Yea, marry, sir.--Rafe Mouldy!-- +Let them appear as I call, let them do so, let them +do so. + +[Enter Mouldy, followed by Shadow, Wart, Feeble, +and Bullcalf.] + +Let me see, where is Mouldy? + +MOULDY, [coming forward] Here, an it please you. + +SHALLOW What think you, Sir John? A good-limbed +fellow, young, strong, and of good friends. + +FALSTAFF Is thy name Mouldy? + +MOULDY Yea, an 't please you. + +FALSTAFF 'Tis the more time thou wert used. + +SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha, most excellent, i' faith! Things +that are mouldy lack use. Very singular good, in +faith. Well said, Sir John, very well said. + +FALSTAFF Prick him. +[Shallow marks the scroll.] + +MOULDY I was pricked well enough before, an you +could have let me alone. My old dame will be +undone now for one to do her husbandry and her +drudgery. You need not to have pricked me. There +are other men fitter to go out than I. + +FALSTAFF Go to. Peace, Mouldy. You shall go. Mouldy, +it is time you were spent. + +MOULDY Spent? + +SHALLOW Peace, fellow, peace. Stand aside. Know you +where you are?--For th' other, Sir John. Let me +see.--Simon Shadow! + +FALSTAFF Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. +He's like to be a cold soldier. + +SHALLOW Where's Shadow? + +SHADOW, [coming forward] Here, sir. + +FALSTAFF Shadow, whose son art thou? + +SHADOW My mother's son, sir. + +FALSTAFF Thy mother's son! Like enough, and thy +father's shadow. So the son of the female is the +shadow of the male. It is often so, indeed, but much +of the father's substance. + +SHALLOW Do you like him, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him, +for we have a number of shadows to fill up the +muster book. + +SHALLOW Thomas Wart! + +FALSTAFF Where's he? + +WART, [coming forward] Here, sir. + +FALSTAFF Is thy name Wart? + +WART Yea, sir. + +FALSTAFF Thou art a very ragged wart. + +SHALLOW Shall I prick him down, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF It were superfluous, for his apparel is built +upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon +pins. Prick him no more. + +SHALLOW Ha, ha, ha. You can do it, sir, you can do it. I +commend you well.--Francis Feeble! + +FEEBLE, [coming forward] Here, sir. + +SHALLOW What trade art thou, Feeble? + +FEEBLE A woman's tailor, sir. + +SHALLOW Shall I prick him, sir? + +FALSTAFF You may, but if he had been a man's tailor, +he'd ha' pricked you.--Wilt thou make as many +holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a +woman's petticoat? + +FEEBLE I will do my good will, sir. You can have no +more. + +FALSTAFF Well said, good woman's tailor, well said, +courageous Feeble. Thou wilt be as valiant as the +wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse.-- +Prick the woman's tailor well, Master Shallow, +deep, Master Shallow. + +FEEBLE I would Wart might have gone, sir. + +FALSTAFF I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou +mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot +put him to a private soldier that is the leader of so +many thousands. Let that suffice, most forcible +Feeble. + +FEEBLE It shall suffice, sir. + +FALSTAFF I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble.--Who +is the next? + +SHALLOW Peter Bullcalf o' th' green. + +FALSTAFF Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf. + +BULLCALF, [coming forward] Here, sir. + +FALSTAFF Fore God, a likely fellow. Come, prick me +Bullcalf till he roar again. + +BULLCALF O Lord, good my lord captain-- + +FALSTAFF What, dost thou roar before thou art +pricked? + +BULLCALF O Lord, sir, I am a diseased man. + +FALSTAFF What disease hast thou? + +BULLCALF A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I +caught with ringing in the King's affairs upon his +coronation day, sir. + +FALSTAFF Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. +We will have away thy cold, and I will take such +order that thy friends shall ring for thee.--Is here +all? + +SHALLOW Here is two more called than your number. +You must have but four here, sir, and so I pray you +go in with me to dinner. + +FALSTAFF Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot +tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, +Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay +all night in the windmill in Saint George's Field? + +FALSTAFF No more of that, good Master Shallow, no +more of that. + +SHALLOW Ha, 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork +alive? + +FALSTAFF She lives, Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW She never could away with me. + +FALSTAFF Never, never. She would always say she could +not abide Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW By the Mass, I could anger her to th' heart. +She was then a bona roba. Doth she hold her own +well? + +FALSTAFF Old, old, Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW Nay, she must be old. She cannot choose but +be old. Certain, she's old, and had Robin Nightwork +by old Nightwork before I came to Clement's Inn. + +SILENCE That's fifty-five year ago. + +SHALLOW Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that +that this knight and I have seen!--Ha, Sir John, said +I well? + +FALSTAFF We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master +Shallow. + +SHALLOW That we have, that we have, that we have. In +faith, Sir John, we have. Our watchword was "Hem, +boys." Come, let's to dinner, come, let's to dinner. +Jesus, the days that we have seen! Come, come. +[Shallow, Silence, and Falstaff rise and exit.] + +BULLCALF Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my +friend, and here's four Harry ten-shillings in +French crowns for you. [He gives Bardolph money.] +In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go. +And yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care, but +rather because I am unwilling, and, for mine own +part, have a desire to stay with my friends. Else, sir, +I did not care, for mine own part, so much. + +BARDOLPH Go to. Stand aside. + +MOULDY And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my +old dame's sake, stand my friend. She has nobody to +do anything about her when I am gone, and she is +old and cannot help herself. You shall have forty, +sir. [He gives money.] + +BARDOLPH Go to. Stand aside. + +FEEBLE By my troth, I care not. A man can die but +once. We owe God a death. I'll ne'er bear a base +mind. An 't be my destiny, so; an 't be not, so. No +man's too good to serve 's prince, and let it go +which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for +the next. + +BARDOLPH Well said. Th' art a good fellow. + +FEEBLE Faith, I'll bear no base mind. + +[Enter Falstaff and the Justices.] + + +FALSTAFF Come, sir, which men shall I have? + +SHALLOW Four of which you please. + +BARDOLPH, [aside to Falstaff] Sir, a word with you. I +have three pound to free Mouldy and Bullcalf. + +FALSTAFF Go to, well. + +SHALLOW Come, Sir John, which four will you have? + +FALSTAFF Do you choose for me. + +SHALLOW Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and +Shadow. + +FALSTAFF Mouldy and Bullcalf! For you, Mouldy, stay +at home till you are past service.--And for your +part, Bullcalf, grow till you come unto it. I will +none of you. [Mouldy and Bullcalf exit.] + +SHALLOW Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. +They are your likeliest men, and I would have you +served with the best. + +FALSTAFF Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to +choose a man? Care I for the limb, the thews, the +stature, bulk and big assemblance of a man? Give +me the spirit, Master Shallow. Here's Wart. You see +what a ragged appearance it is. He shall charge you +and discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's +hammer, come off and on swifter than he that +gibbets on the brewer's bucket. And this same half-faced +fellow, Shadow, give me this man. He presents +no mark to the enemy. The foeman may with +as great aim level at the edge of a penknife. And for +a retreat, how swiftly will this Feeble, the woman's +tailor, run off! O, give me the spare men, and spare +me the great ones.--Put me a caliver into Wart's +hand, Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH, [giving Wart a musket] Hold, Wart. Traverse. +Thas, thas, thas. + +FALSTAFF, [to Wart] Come, manage me your caliver: so, +very well, go to, very good, exceeding good. O, give +me always a little, lean, old, chopped, bald shot. +Well said, i' faith, Wart. Th' art a good scab. Hold, +there's a tester for thee. [He gives Wart money.] + +SHALLOW He is not his craft's master. He doth not do it +right. I remember at Mile End Green, when I lay at +Clement's Inn--I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's +show--there was a little quiver fellow, and he +would manage you his piece thus. [Shallow performs +with the musket.] And he would about and +about, and come you in, and come you in. "Rah, +tah, tah," would he say. "Bounce," would he say, +and away again would he go, and again would he +come. I shall ne'er see such a fellow. + +FALSTAFF These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. +--God keep you, Master Silence. I will not use +many words with you. Fare you well, gentlemen +both. I thank you. I must a dozen mile tonight.-- +Bardolph, give the soldiers coats. + +SHALLOW Sir John, the Lord bless you. God prosper +your affairs. God send us peace. At your return, visit +our house. Let our old acquaintance be renewed. +Peradventure I will with you to the court. + +FALSTAFF Fore God, would you would, Master +Shallow. + +SHALLOW Go to. I have spoke at a word. God keep you. + +FALSTAFF Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. +[Shallow and Silence exit.] +On, Bardolph. Lead the men away. +[All but Falstaff exit.] +As I return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see +the bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how +subject we old men are to this vice of lying. This +same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to +me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hath +done about Turnbull Street, and every third word a +lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I +do remember him at Clement's Inn, like a man +made after supper of a cheese paring. When he was +naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish +with a head fantastically carved upon it with a +knife. He was so forlorn that his dimensions to +any thick sight were invincible. He was the very +genius of famine, yet lecherous as a monkey, +and the whores called him "mandrake." He came +ever in the rearward of the fashion, and sung +those tunes to the overscutched huswives that he +heard the carmen whistle, and swore they were his +fancies or his good-nights. And now is this Vice's +dagger become a squire, and talks as familiarly +of John o' Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother +to him, and I'll be sworn he ne'er saw him but +once in the tilt-yard, and then he burst his head +for crowding among the Marshal's men. I saw it +and told John o' Gaunt he beat his own name, for +you might have thrust him and all his apparel into +an eel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a +mansion for him, a court. And now has he land and +beefs. Well, I'll be acquainted with him if I return, +and 't shall go hard but I'll make him a philosopher's +two stones to me. If the young dace be a +bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of +nature but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and +there an end. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Lord +Bardolph, Hastings, and their officers within the Forest +of Gaultree.] + + +ARCHBISHOP What is this forest called? + +HASTINGS +'Tis Gaultree Forest, an 't shall please your Grace. + +ARCHBISHOP +Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers forth +To know the numbers of our enemies. + +HASTINGS +We have sent forth already. + +ARCHBISHOP 'Tis well done. +My friends and brethren in these great affairs, +I must acquaint you that I have received +New-dated letters from Northumberland, +Their cold intent, tenor, and substance, thus: +Here doth he wish his person, with such powers +As might hold sortance with his quality, +The which he could not levy; whereupon +He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes, +To Scotland, and concludes in hearty prayers +That your attempts may overlive the hazard +And fearful meeting of their opposite. + +MOWBRAY +Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground +And dash themselves to pieces. + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +HASTINGS Now, what news? + +MESSENGER +West of this forest, scarcely off a mile, +In goodly form comes on the enemy, +And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number +Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand. + +MOWBRAY +The just proportion that we gave them out. +Let us sway on and face them in the field. + +[Enter Westmoreland.] + + +ARCHBISHOP +What well-appointed leader fronts us here? + +MOWBRAY +I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland. + +WESTMORELAND +Health and fair greeting from our general, +The Prince Lord John and Duke of Lancaster. + +ARCHBISHOP +Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace, +What doth concern your coming. + +WESTMORELAND Then, my lord, +Unto your Grace do I in chief address +The substance of my speech. If that rebellion +Came like itself, in base and abject routs, +Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage, +And countenanced by boys and beggary-- +I say, if damned commotion so appeared +In his true, native, and most proper shape, +You, reverend father, and these noble lords +Had not been here to dress the ugly form +Of base and bloody insurrection +With your fair honors. You, Lord Archbishop, +Whose see is by a civil peace maintained, +Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touched, +Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutored, +Whose white investments figure innocence, +The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, +Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself +Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace, +Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war, +Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, +Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine +To a loud trumpet and a point of war? + +ARCHBISHOP +Wherefore do I this? So the question stands. +Briefly, to this end: we are all diseased +And with our surfeiting and wanton hours +Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, +And we must bleed for it; of which disease +Our late King Richard, being infected, died. +But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland, +I take not on me here as a physician, +Nor do I as an enemy to peace +Troop in the throngs of military men, +But rather show awhile like fearful war +To diet rank minds sick of happiness +And purge th' obstructions which begin to stop +Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly. +I have in equal balance justly weighed +What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we +suffer, +And find our griefs heavier than our offenses. +We see which way the stream of time doth run +And are enforced from our most quiet there +By the rough torrent of occasion, +And have the summary of all our griefs, +When time shall serve, to show in articles; +Which long ere this we offered to the King +And might by no suit gain our audience. +When we are wronged and would unfold our griefs, +We are denied access unto his person +Even by those men that most have done us wrong. +The dangers of the days but newly gone, +Whose memory is written on the earth +With yet-appearing blood, and the examples +Of every minute's instance, present now, +Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms, +Not to break peace or any branch of it, +But to establish here a peace indeed, +Concurring both in name and quality. + +WESTMORELAND +Whenever yet was your appeal denied? +Wherein have you been galled by the King? +What peer hath been suborned to grate on you, +That you should seal this lawless bloody book +Of forged rebellion with a seal divine +And consecrate commotion's bitter edge? + +ARCHBISHOP +My brother general, the commonwealth, +To brother born an household cruelty, +I make my quarrel in particular. + +WESTMORELAND +There is no need of any such redress, +Or if there were, it not belongs to you. + +MOWBRAY +Why not to him in part, and to us all +That feel the bruises of the days before +And suffer the condition of these times +To lay a heavy and unequal hand +Upon our honors? + +WESTMORELAND O, my good Lord Mowbray, +Construe the times to their necessities, +And you shall say indeed it is the time, +And not the King, that doth you injuries. +Yet for your part, it not appears to me +Either from the King or in the present time +That you should have an inch of any ground +To build a grief on. Were you not restored +To all the Duke of Norfolk's seigniories, +Your noble and right well remembered father's? + +MOWBRAY +What thing, in honor, had my father lost +That need to be revived and breathed in me? +The King that loved him, as the state stood then, +Was force perforce compelled to banish him, +And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he, +Being mounted and both roused in their seats, +Their neighing coursers daring of the spur, +Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, +Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel, +And the loud trumpet blowing them together, +Then, then, when there was nothing could have +stayed +My father from the breast of Bolingbroke, +O, when the King did throw his warder down-- +His own life hung upon the staff he threw-- +Then threw he down himself and all their lives +That by indictment and by dint of sword +Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke. + +WESTMORELAND +You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what. +The Earl of Hereford was reputed then +In England the most valiant gentleman. +Who knows on whom fortune would then have +smiled? +But if your father had been victor there, +He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry; +For all the country in a general voice +Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and +love +Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on +And blessed and graced, indeed more than the +King. +But this is mere digression from my purpose. +Here come I from our princely general +To know your griefs, to tell you from his Grace +That he will give you audience; and wherein +It shall appear that your demands are just, +You shall enjoy them, everything set off +That might so much as think you enemies. + +MOWBRAY +But he hath forced us to compel this offer, +And it proceeds from policy, not love. + +WESTMORELAND +Mowbray, you overween to take it so. +This offer comes from mercy, not from fear. +For, lo, within a ken our army lies, +Upon mine honor, all too confident +To give admittance to a thought of fear. +Our battle is more full of names than yours, +Our men more perfect in the use of arms, +Our armor all as strong, our cause the best. +Then reason will our hearts should be as good. +Say you not then our offer is compelled. + +MOWBRAY +Well, by my will, we shall admit no parley. + +WESTMORELAND +That argues but the shame of your offense. +A rotten case abides no handling. + +HASTINGS +Hath the Prince John a full commission, +In very ample virtue of his father, +To hear and absolutely to determine +Of what conditions we shall stand upon? + +WESTMORELAND +That is intended in the General's name. +I muse you make so slight a question. + +ARCHBISHOP, [giving Westmoreland a paper] +Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule, +For this contains our general grievances. +Each several article herein redressed, +All members of our cause, both here and hence +That are insinewed to this action, +Acquitted by a true substantial form +And present execution of our wills +To us and to our purposes confined, +We come within our awful banks again +And knit our powers to the arm of peace. + +WESTMORELAND +This will I show the General. Please you, lords, +In sight of both our battles we may meet, +And either end in peace, which God so frame, +Or to the place of difference call the swords +Which must decide it. + +ARCHBISHOP My lord, we will do so. +[Westmoreland exits.] + +MOWBRAY +There is a thing within my bosom tells me +That no conditions of our peace can stand. + +HASTINGS +Fear you not that. If we can make our peace +Upon such large terms and so absolute +As our conditions shall consist upon, +Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. + +MOWBRAY +Yea, but our valuation shall be such +That every slight and false-derived cause, +Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason, +Shall to the King taste of this action, +That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love, +We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind +That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff, +And good from bad find no partition. + +ARCHBISHOP +No, no, my lord. Note this: the King is weary +Of dainty and such picking grievances, +For he hath found to end one doubt by death +Revives two greater in the heirs of life; +And therefore will he wipe his tables clean +And keep no telltale to his memory +That may repeat and history his loss +To new remembrance. For full well he knows +He cannot so precisely weed this land +As his misdoubts present occasion; +His foes are so enrooted with his friends +That, plucking to unfix an enemy, +He doth unfasten so and shake a friend; +So that this land, like an offensive wife +That hath enraged him on to offer strokes, +As he is striking holds his infant up +And hangs resolved correction in the arm +That was upreared to execution. + +HASTINGS +Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods +On late offenders, that he now doth lack +The very instruments of chastisement, +So that his power, like to a fangless lion, +May offer but not hold. + +ARCHBISHOP 'Tis very true, +And therefore be assured, my good Lord Marshal, +If we do now make our atonement well, +Our peace will, like a broken limb united, +Grow stronger for the breaking. + +MOWBRAY Be it so. +Here is returned my Lord of Westmoreland. + +[Enter Westmoreland.] + + +WESTMORELAND, [to the Archbishop] +The Prince is here at hand. Pleaseth your Lordship +To meet his Grace just distance 'tween our armies. + +[Enter Prince John and his army.] + + +MOWBRAY, [to the Archbishop] +Your Grace of York, in God's name then set +forward. + +ARCHBISHOP +Before, and greet his Grace.--My lord, we come. +[All move forward.] + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +You are well encountered here, my cousin +Mowbray.-- +Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop,-- +And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.-- +My Lord of York, it better showed with you +When that your flock, assembled by the bell, +Encircled you to hear with reverence +Your exposition on the holy text +Than now to see you here, an iron man talking, +Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum, +Turning the word to sword, and life to death. +That man that sits within a monarch's heart +And ripens in the sunshine of his favor, +Would he abuse the countenance of the King, +Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach +In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord +Bishop, +It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken +How deep you were within the books of God, +To us the speaker in His parliament, +To us th' imagined voice of God Himself, +The very opener and intelligencer +Between the grace, the sanctities, of heaven, +And our dull workings? O, who shall believe +But you misuse the reverence of your place, +Employ the countenance and grace of heaven +As a false favorite doth his prince's name, +In deeds dishonorable? You have ta'en up, +Under the counterfeited zeal of God, +The subjects of His substitute, my father, +And both against the peace of heaven and him +Have here up-swarmed them. + +ARCHBISHOP Good my Lord of +Lancaster, +I am not here against your father's peace, +But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland, +The time misordered doth, in common sense, +Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form +To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace +The parcels and particulars of our grief, +The which hath been with scorn shoved from the +court, +Whereon this Hydra son of war is born, +Whose dangerous eyes may well be charmed asleep +With grant of our most just and right desires, +And true obedience, of this madness cured, +Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty. + +MOWBRAY +If not, we ready are to try our fortunes +To the last man. + +HASTINGS And though we here fall down, +We have supplies to second our attempt; +If they miscarry, theirs shall second them, +And so success of mischief shall be born, +And heir from heir shall hold his quarrel up +Whiles England shall have generation. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow +To sound the bottom of the after-times. + +WESTMORELAND +Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly +How far forth you do like their articles. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +I like them all, and do allow them well, +And swear here by the honor of my blood +My father's purposes have been mistook, +And some about him have too lavishly +Wrested his meaning and authority. +[To the Archbishop.] My lord, these griefs shall be +with speed redressed; +Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you, +Discharge your powers unto their several counties, +As we will ours, and here, between the armies, +Let's drink together friendly and embrace, +That all their eyes may bear those tokens home +Of our restored love and amity. + +ARCHBISHOP +I take your princely word for these redresses. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +I give it you, and will maintain my word, +And thereupon I drink unto your Grace. +[The Leaders of both armies begin to drink together.] + +HASTINGS, [to an Officer] +Go, captain, and deliver to the army +This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part. +I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain. +[Officer exits.] + +ARCHBISHOP, [toasting Westmoreland] +To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland. + +WESTMORELAND, [returning the toast] +I pledge your Grace, and if you knew what pains +I have bestowed to breed this present peace, +You would drink freely. But my love to you +Shall show itself more openly hereafter. + +ARCHBISHOP +I do not doubt you. + +WESTMORELAND I am glad of it.-- +Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray. + +MOWBRAY +You wish me health in very happy season, +For I am on the sudden something ill. + +ARCHBISHOP +Against ill chances men are ever merry, +But heaviness foreruns the good event. + +WESTMORELAND +Therefore be merry, coz, since sudden sorrow +Serves to say thus: "Some good thing comes +tomorrow." + +ARCHBISHOP +Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. + +MOWBRAY +So much the worse if your own rule be true. +[Shout within.] + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +The word of peace is rendered. Hark how they +shout. + +MOWBRAY +This had been cheerful after victory. + +ARCHBISHOP +A peace is of the nature of a conquest, +For then both parties nobly are subdued, +And neither party loser. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER, [to Westmoreland] Go, my lord, +And let our army be discharged too. +[Westmoreland exits.] +[To the Archbishop.] And, good my lord, so please +you, let our trains +March by us, that we may peruse the men +We should have coped withal. + +ARCHBISHOP Go, good Lord +Hastings, +And ere they be dismissed, let them march by. +[Hastings exits.] + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +I trust, lords, we shall lie tonight together. + +[Enter Westmoreland.] + +Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? + +WESTMORELAND +The leaders, having charge from you to stand, +Will not go off until they hear you speak. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER They know their duties. + +[Enter Hastings.] + + +HASTINGS, [to the Archbishop] +My lord, our army is dispersed already. +Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their +courses +East, west, north, south, or, like a school broke up, +Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place. + +WESTMORELAND +Good tidings, my Lord Hastings, for the which +I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason.-- +And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray, +Of capital treason I attach you both. + +MOWBRAY +Is this proceeding just and honorable? + +WESTMORELAND Is your assembly so? + +ARCHBISHOP +Will you thus break your faith? + +JOHN OF LANCASTER I pawned thee none. +I promised you redress of these same grievances +Whereof you did complain, which, by mine honor, +I will perform with a most Christian care. +But for you rebels, look to taste the due +Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours. +Most shallowly did you these arms commence, +Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.-- +Strike up our drums; pursue the scattered stray. +God, and not we, hath safely fought today.-- +Some guard these traitors to the block of death, +Treason's true bed and yielder-up of breath. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile.] + + +FALSTAFF What's your name, sir? Of what condition are +you, and of what place, I pray? + +COLEVILE I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of +the Dale. + +FALSTAFF Well then, Colevile is your name, a knight is +your degree, and your place the Dale. Colevile shall +be still your name, a traitor your degree, and the +dungeon your place, a place deep enough so shall +you be still Colevile of the Dale. + +COLEVILE Are not you Sir John Falstaff? + +FALSTAFF As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do +you yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, +they are the drops of thy lovers and they weep for +thy death. Therefore rouse up fear and trembling, +and do observance to my mercy. + +COLEVILE I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that +thought yield me. + +FALSTAFF I have a whole school of tongues in this belly +of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any +other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any +indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in +Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes +me. Here comes our general. + +[Enter John, Westmoreland, and the rest.] + + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +The heat is past. Follow no further now. +Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland. +[Westmoreland exits. Retreat is sounded.] +Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? +When everything is ended, then you come. +These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, +One time or other break some gallows' back. + +FALSTAFF I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be +thus. I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the +reward of valor. Do you think me a swallow, an +arrow, or a bullet? Have I in my poor and old +motion the expedition of thought? I have speeded +hither with the very extremest inch of possibility. I +have foundered ninescore and odd posts, and here, +travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and immaculate +valor taken Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most +furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of +that? He saw me and yielded, that I may justly say, +with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, "There, cousin, +I came, saw, and overcame." + +JOHN OF LANCASTER It was more of his courtesy than +your deserving. + +FALSTAFF I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him. +And I beseech your Grace let it be booked with the +rest of this day's deeds, or, by the Lord, I will have it +in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture +on the top on 't, Colevile kissing my foot; to the +which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show +like gilt twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of +fame o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth +the cinders of the element (which show like pins' +heads to her), believe not the word of the noble. +Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER Thine's too heavy to mount. + +FALSTAFF Let it shine, then. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER Thine's too thick to shine. + +FALSTAFF Let it do something, my good lord, that may +do me good, and call it what you will. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER Is thy name Colevile? + +COLEVILE It is, my lord. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER A famous rebel art thou, +Colevile. + +FALSTAFF And a famous true subject took him. + +COLEVILE +I am, my lord, but as my betters are +That led me hither. Had they been ruled by me, +You should have won them dearer than you have. + +FALSTAFF I know not how they sold themselves, but +thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis, +and I thank thee for thee. + +[Enter Westmoreland.] + + +JOHN OF LANCASTER Now, have you left pursuit? + +WESTMORELAND +Retreat is made and execution stayed. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +Send Colevile with his confederates +To York, to present execution.-- +Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure. +[Blunt exits with Colevile.] +And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords. +I hear the King my father is sore sick. +Our news shall go before us to his Majesty, +[To Westmoreland.] Which, cousin, you shall bear +to comfort him, +And we with sober speed will follow you. + +FALSTAFF My lord, I beseech you give me leave to go +through Gloucestershire, and, when you come to +court, stand my good lord, pray, in your good +report. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition, +Shall better speak of you than you deserve. +[All but Falstaff exit.] + +FALSTAFF I would you had but the wit; 'twere better +than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young +sober-blooded boy doth not love me, nor a man +cannot make him laugh. But that's no marvel; he +drinks no wine. There's never none of these demure +boys come to any proof, for thin drink doth so +overcool their blood, and making many fish meals, +that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness, and +then, when they marry, they get wenches. They are +generally fools and cowards, which some of us +should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherris +sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me +into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and +dull and crudy vapors which environ it, makes it +apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, +and delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the +voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes +excellent wit. The second property of your excellent +sherris is the warming of the blood, which, +before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, +which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice. +But the sherris warms it and makes it course from +the inwards to the parts' extremes. It illumineth the +face, which as a beacon gives warning to all the rest +of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the +vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me +all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed +up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage, and +this valor comes of sherris. So that skill in the +weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it +a-work; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept +by a devil till sack commences it and sets it in +act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is +valiant, for the cold blood he did naturally inherit +of his father he hath, like lean, sterile, and bare +land, manured, husbanded, and tilled with excellent +endeavor of drinking good and good store +of fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. +If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle +I would teach them should be to forswear +thin potations and to addict themselves to sack. + +[Enter Bardolph.] + +How now, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH The army is discharged all and gone. + +FALSTAFF Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire, +and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, +Esquire. I have him already temp'ring between my +finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with +him. Come away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King in a chair, Warwick, Thomas Duke of +Clarence, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, and +Attendants.] + + +KING +Now, lords, if God doth give successful end +To this debate that bleedeth at our doors, +We will our youth lead on to higher fields +And draw no swords but what are sanctified. +Our navy is addressed, our power collected, +Our substitutes in absence well invested, +And everything lies level to our wish. +Only we want a little personal strength; +And pause us till these rebels now afoot +Come underneath the yoke of government. + +WARWICK +Both which we doubt not but your Majesty +Shall soon enjoy. + +KING +Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, where is the +Prince your brother? + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. + +KING +And how accompanied? + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER I do not know, my lord. + +KING +Is not his brother Thomas of Clarence with him? + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +No, my good lord, he is in presence here. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE, [coming forward] What would +my lord and father? + +KING +Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence. +How chance thou art not with the Prince thy +brother? +He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas. +Thou hast a better place in his affection +Than all thy brothers. Cherish it, my boy, +And noble offices thou mayst effect +Of mediation, after I am dead, +Between his greatness and thy other brethren. +Therefore omit him not, blunt not his love, +Nor lose the good advantage of his grace +By seeming cold or careless of his will. +For he is gracious if he be observed; +He hath a tear for pity, and a hand +Open as day for melting charity; +Yet notwithstanding, being incensed he is flint, +As humorous as winter, and as sudden +As flaws congealed in the spring of day. +His temper therefore must be well observed. +Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, +When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth; +But, being moody, give him time and scope +Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, +Confound themselves with working. Learn this, +Thomas, +And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends, +A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in, +That the united vessel of their blood, +Mingled with venom of suggestion +(As, force perforce, the age will pour it in), +Shall never leak, though it do work as strong +As aconitum or rash gunpowder. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +I shall observe him with all care and love. + +KING +Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas? + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +He is not there today; he dines in London. + +KING +And how accompanied? Canst thou tell that? + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +With Poins and other his continual followers. + +KING +Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds, +And he, the noble image of my youth, +Is overspread with them; therefore my grief +Stretches itself beyond the hour of death. +The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, +In forms imaginary, th' unguided days +And rotten times that you shall look upon +When I am sleeping with my ancestors. +For when his headstrong riot hath no curb, +When rage and hot blood are his counsellors, +When means and lavish manners meet together, +O, with what wings shall his affections fly +Towards fronting peril and opposed decay! + +WARWICK +My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite. +The Prince but studies his companions +Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the +language, +'Tis needful that the most immodest word +Be looked upon and learned; which, once attained, +Your Highness knows, comes to no further use +But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms, +The Prince will, in the perfectness of time, +Cast off his followers, and their memory +Shall as a pattern or a measure live, +By which his Grace must mete the lives of others, +Turning past evils to advantages. + +KING +'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb +In the dead carrion. + +[Enter Westmoreland.] + +Who's here? Westmoreland? + +WESTMORELAND +Health to my sovereign, and new happiness +Added to that that I am to deliver. +Prince John your son doth kiss your Grace's hand. +Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all +Are brought to the correction of your law. +There is not now a rebel's sword unsheathed, +But peace puts forth her olive everywhere. +The manner how this action hath been borne +Here at more leisure may your Highness read +With every course in his particular. +[He gives the King a paper.] + +KING +O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, +Which ever in the haunch of winter sings +The lifting up of day. + +[Enter Harcourt.] + +Look, here's more news. + +HARCOURT +From enemies heavens keep your Majesty, +And when they stand against you, may they fall +As those that I am come to tell you of. +The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, +With a great power of English and of Scots, +Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown. +The manner and true order of the fight +This packet, please it you, contains at large. +[He gives the King papers.] + +KING +And wherefore should these good news make me +sick? +Will Fortune never come with both hands full, +But write her fair words still in foulest letters? +She either gives a stomach and no food-- +Such are the poor, in health--or else a feast +And takes away the stomach--such are the rich, +That have abundance and enjoy it not. +I should rejoice now at this happy news, +And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy. +O, me! Come near me, now I am much ill. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +Comfort, your Majesty. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE O, my royal father! + +WESTMORELAND +My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up. + +WARWICK +Be patient, princes. You do know these fits +Are with his Highness very ordinary. +Stand from him, give him air. He'll straight be +well. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs. +Th' incessant care and labor of his mind +Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in +So thin that life looks through and will break out. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +The people fear me, for they do observe +Unfathered heirs and loathly births of nature. +The seasons change their manners, as the year +Had found some months asleep and leapt them +over. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +The river hath thrice flowed, no ebb between, +And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, +Say it did so a little time before +That our great-grandsire, Edward, sicked and died. + +WARWICK +Speak lower, princes, for the King recovers. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +This apoplexy will certain be his end. + +KING +I pray you take me up and bear me hence +Into some other chamber. Softly, pray. +[The King is carried to a bed on another +part of the stage.] +Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends, +Unless some dull and favorable hand +Will whisper music to my weary spirit. + +WARWICK, [to an Attendant] +Call for the music in the other room. + +KING +Set me the crown upon my pillow here. +[The crown is placed on the bed.] + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE, [aside to the others] +His eye is hollow, and he changes much. + +WARWICK +Less noise, less noise. + +[Enter Prince Harry.] + + +PRINCE Who saw the Duke of Clarence? + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE, [weeping] +I am here, brother, full of heaviness. + +PRINCE +How now, rain within doors, and none abroad? +How doth the King? + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER Exceeding ill. + +PRINCE +Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +He altered much upon the hearing it. + +PRINCE If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without +physic. + +WARWICK +Not so much noise, my lords.--Sweet prince, speak +low. +The King your father is disposed to sleep. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +Let us withdraw into the other room. + +WARWICK +Will 't please your Grace to go along with us? + +PRINCE +No, I will sit and watch here by the King. +[All but Prince and King exit.] +Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, +Being so troublesome a bedfellow? +O polished perturbation, golden care, +That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide +To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now; +Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet +As he whose brow with homely biggen bound +Snores out the watch of night. O majesty, +When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit +Like a rich armor worn in heat of day, +That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath +There lies a downy feather which stirs not; +Did he suspire, that light and weightless down +Perforce must move. My gracious lord, my father, +This sleep is sound indeed. This is a sleep +That from this golden rigol hath divorced +So many English kings. Thy due from me +Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, +Which nature, love, and filial tenderness +Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously. +My due from thee is this imperial crown, +Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, +Derives itself to me. [He puts on the crown.] Lo, +where it sits, +Which God shall guard. And, put the world's whole +strength +Into one giant arm, it shall not force +This lineal honor from me. This from thee +Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. +[He exits with the crown.] + +KING, [rising up in his bed] Warwick! Gloucester! +Clarence! + +[Enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence, and others.] + + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE Doth the King call? + +WARWICK +What would your Majesty? How fares your Grace? + +KING +Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +We left the Prince my brother here, my liege, +Who undertook to sit and watch by you. + +KING +The Prince of Wales? Where is he? Let me see him. +He is not here. + +WARWICK +This door is open. He is gone this way. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +He came not through the chamber where we +stayed. + +KING +Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow? + +WARWICK +When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. + +KING +The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go seek him out. +Is he so hasty that he doth suppose my sleep my +death? +Find him, my Lord of Warwick. Chide him hither. +[Warwick exits.] +This part of his conjoins with my disease +And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you +are, +How quickly nature falls into revolt +When gold becomes her object! +For this the foolish overcareful fathers +Have broke their sleep with thoughts, +Their brains with care, their bones with industry. +For this they have engrossed and piled up +The cankered heaps of strange-achieved gold. +For this they have been thoughtful to invest +Their sons with arts and martial exercises-- +When, like the bee, tolling from every flower +The virtuous sweets, +Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with +honey, +We bring it to the hive and, like the bees, +Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste +Yields his engrossments to the ending father. + +[Enter Warwick.] + +Now where is he that will not stay so long +Till his friend sickness hath determined me? + +WARWICK +My lord, I found the Prince in the next room, +Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks, +With such a deep demeanor in great sorrow +That tyranny, which never quaffed but blood, +Would, by beholding him, have washed his knife +With gentle eyedrops. He is coming hither. + +KING +But wherefore did he take away the crown? + +[Enter Prince Harry with the crown.] + +Lo where he comes.--Come hither to me, Harry.-- +Depart the chamber. Leave us here alone. +[Gloucester, Clarence, Warwick, and others exit.] + +PRINCE +I never thought to hear you speak again. + +KING +Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. +I stay too long by thee; I weary thee. +Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair +That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honors +Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth, +Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm +thee. +Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity +Is held from falling with so weak a wind +That it will quickly drop. My day is dim. +Thou hast stol'n that which after some few hours +Were thine without offense, and at my death +Thou hast sealed up my expectation. +Thy life did manifest thou loved'st me not, +And thou wilt have me die assured of it. +Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, +Whom thou hast whetted on thy stony heart +To stab at half an hour of my life. +What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour? +Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself, +And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear +That thou art crowned, not that I am dead. +Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse +Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head; +Only compound me with forgotten dust. +Give that which gave thee life unto the worms. +Pluck down my officers, break my decrees, +For now a time is come to mock at form. +Harry the Fifth is crowned. Up, vanity, +Down, royal state, all you sage councillors, +hence, +And to the English court assemble now, +From every region, apes of idleness. +Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum. +Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, +Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit +The oldest sins the newest kind of ways? +Be happy, he will trouble you no more. +England shall double gild his treble guilt. +England shall give him office, honor, might, +For the fifth Harry from curbed license plucks +The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog +Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. +O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows! +When that my care could not withhold thy riots, +What wilt thou do when riot is thy care? +O, thou wilt be a wilderness again, +Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants. + +PRINCE, [placing the crown on the pillow] +O pardon me, my liege! But for my tears, +The moist impediments unto my speech, +I had forestalled this dear and deep rebuke +Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard +The course of it so far. There is your crown, +And He that wears the crown immortally +Long guard it yours. [He kneels.] If I affect it +more +Than as your honor and as your renown, +Let me no more from this obedience rise, +Which my most inward true and duteous spirit +Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending. +God witness with me, when I here came in +And found no course of breath within your Majesty, +How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign, +O, let me in my present wildness die +And never live to show th' incredulous world +The noble change that I have purposed. +Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, +And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, +I spake unto this crown as having sense, +And thus upbraided it: "The care on thee +depending +Hath fed upon the body of my father; +Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold. +Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, +Preserving life in med'cine potable; +But thou, most fine, most honored, most renowned, +Hast eat thy bearer up." Thus, my most royal liege, +Accusing it, I put it on my head +To try with it, as with an enemy +That had before my face murdered my father, +The quarrel of a true inheritor. +But if it did infect my blood with joy +Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride, +If any rebel or vain spirit of mine +Did with the least affection of a welcome +Give entertainment to the might of it, +Let God forever keep it from my head +And make me as the poorest vassal is +That doth with awe and terror kneel to it. + +KING O my son, +God put it in thy mind to take it hence +That thou mightst win the more thy father's love, +Pleading so wisely in excuse of it. +Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed +And hear, I think, the very latest counsel +That ever I shall breathe. +[The Prince rises from his knees and sits +near the bed.] +God knows, my son, +By what bypaths and indirect crook'd ways +I met this crown, and I myself know well +How troublesome it sat upon my head. +To thee it shall descend with better quiet, +Better opinion, better confirmation, +For all the soil of the achievement goes +With me into the earth. It seemed in me +But as an honor snatched with boist'rous hand, +And I had many living to upbraid +My gain of it by their assistances, +Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed, +Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears +Thou seest with peril I have answered, +For all my reign hath been but as a scene +Acting that argument. And now my death +Changes the mood, for what in me was purchased +Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort. +So thou the garland wear'st successively. +Yet though thou stand'st more sure than I could do, +Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green, +And all my friends, which thou must make thy +friends, +Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out, +By whose fell working I was first advanced +And by whose power I well might lodge a fear +To be again displaced; which to avoid, +I cut them off and had a purpose now +To lead out many to the Holy Land, +Lest rest and lying still might make them look +Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, +Be it thy course to busy giddy minds +With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne +out, +May waste the memory of the former days. +More would I, but my lungs are wasted so +That strength of speech is utterly denied me. +How I came by the crown, O God forgive, +And grant it may with thee in true peace live. + +PRINCE My gracious liege, +You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me. +Then plain and right must my possession be, +Which I with more than with a common pain +'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain. + +[Enter John of Lancaster and others.] + + +KING +Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father. + +KING +Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John, +But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown +From this bare withered trunk. Upon thy sight +My worldly business makes a period. +Where is my Lord of Warwick? + +PRINCE My Lord of Warwick. + +[Enter Warwick.] + + +KING +Doth any name particular belong +Unto the lodging where I first did swoon? + +WARWICK +'Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord. + +KING +Laud be to God! Even there my life must end. +It hath been prophesied to me many years, +I should not die but in Jerusalem, +Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land. +But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie. +In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Page, and Bardolph.] + + +SHALLOW By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away +tonight.--What, Davy, I say! + +FALSTAFF You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow. + +SHALLOW I will not excuse you. You shall not be +excused. Excuses shall not be admitted. There is no +excuse shall serve. You shall not be excused.-- +Why, Davy! + +[Enter Davy.] + + +DAVY Here, sir. + +SHALLOW Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy, let +me see, Davy, let me see. Yea, marry, William cook, +bid him come hither.--Sir John, you shall not be +excused. + +DAVY Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served. +And again, sir: shall we sow the hade land with +wheat? + +SHALLOW With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook, +are there no young pigeons? + +DAVY Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing +and plow irons. [He gives Shallow a paper.] + +SHALLOW Let it be cast and paid.--Sir John, you shall +not be excused. + +DAVY Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be +had. And, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's +wages about the sack he lost the other day at +Hinckley Fair? + +SHALLOW He shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a +couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and +any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. +[Shallow and Davy walk aside.] + +DAVY Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? + +SHALLOW Yea, Davy, I will use him well. A friend i' th' +court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men +well, Davy, for they are arrant knaves and will +backbite. + +DAVY No worse than they are back-bitten, sir, for they +have marvelous foul linen. + +SHALLOW Well-conceited, Davy. About thy business, +Davy. + +DAVY I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor +of Woncot against Clement Perkes o' th' hill. + +SHALLOW There is many complaints, Davy, against that +Visor. That Visor is an arrant knave, on my +knowledge. + +DAVY I grant your Worship that he is a knave, sir, but +yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some +countenance at his friend's request. An honest +man, sir, is able to speak for himself when a knave is +not. I have served your Worship truly, sir, this eight +years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear +out a knave against an honest man, I have but a +very little credit with your Worship. The knave is +mine honest friend, sir; therefore I beseech you let +him be countenanced. + +SHALLOW Go to, I say, he shall have no wrong. Look +about, Davy. [Davy exits.] Where are you, Sir John? +Come, come, come, off with your boots.--Give me +your hand, Master Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH I am glad to see your Worship. + +SHALLOW I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master +Bardolph, [(to Page)] and welcome, my tall +fellow.--Come, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. +[Shallow exits.] Bardolph, look to our horses. [Bardolph +and Page exit.] If I were sawed into quantities, +I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits' +staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to +see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits +and his. They, by observing of him, do bear +themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing +with them, is turned into a justice-like servingman. +Their spirits are so married in conjunction with the +participation of society that they flock together in +consent like so many wild geese. If I had a suit to +Master Shallow, I would humor his men with the +imputation of being near their master; if to his men, +I would curry with Master Shallow that no man +could better command his servants. It is certain +that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is +caught, as men take diseases, one of another. Therefore +let men take heed of their company. I will +devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep +Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out +of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, +and he shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is +much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a +sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the +ache in his shoulders. O, you shall see him laugh till +his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up. + +SHALLOW, [within] Sir John. + +FALSTAFF I come, Master Shallow, I come, Master +Shallow. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Warwick and Lord Chief Justice.] + + +WARWICK +How now, my Lord Chief Justice, whither away? + +CHIEF JUSTICE How doth the King? + +WARWICK +Exceeding well. His cares are now all ended. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I hope, not dead. + +WARWICK He's walked the way of nature, +And to our purposes he lives no more. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I would his Majesty had called me with him. +The service that I truly did his life +Hath left me open to all injuries. + +WARWICK +Indeed, I think the young king loves you not. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I know he doth not, and do arm myself +To welcome the condition of the time, +Which cannot look more hideously upon me +Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. + +[Enter John, Thomas, and Humphrey.] + + +WARWICK +Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry. +O, that the living Harry had the temper +Of he the worst of these three gentlemen! +How many nobles then should hold their places +That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort! + +CHIEF JUSTICE +O God, I fear all will be overturned. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER, THOMAS OF CLARENCE Good morrow, cousin. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +We meet like men that had forgot to speak. + +WARWICK +We do remember, but our argument +Is all too heavy to admit much talk. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +Peace be with us, lest we be heavier. + +HUMPHREY OF GLOUCESTER +O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed, +And I dare swear you borrow not that face +Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER, [to the Chief Justice] +Though no man be assured what grace to find, +You stand in coldest expectation. +I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise. + +THOMAS OF CLARENCE +Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair, +Which swims against your stream of quality. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +Sweet princes, what I did I did in honor, +Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul; +And never shall you see that I will beg +A ragged and forestalled remission. +If truth and upright innocency fail me, +I'll to the king my master that is dead +And tell him who hath sent me after him. + +[Enter the Prince, as Henry V, and Blunt.] + + +WARWICK Here comes the Prince. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +Good morrow, and God save your Majesty. + +PRINCE +This new and gorgeous garment majesty +Sits not so easy on me as you think.-- +Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear. +This is the English, not the Turkish court; +Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, +But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, +For, by my faith, it very well becomes you. +Sorrow so royally in you appears +That I will deeply put the fashion on +And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad. +But entertain no more of it, good brothers, +Than a joint burden laid upon us all. +For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured, +I'll be your father and your brother too. +Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares. +Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I, +But Harry lives that shall convert those tears +By number into hours of happiness. + +BROTHERS +We hope no otherwise from your Majesty. + +PRINCE +You all look strangely on me. [To the Chief Justice.] +And you most. +You are, I think, assured I love you not. + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I am assured, if I be measured rightly, +Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me. + +PRINCE +No? How might a prince of my great hopes forget +So great indignities you laid upon me? +What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison +Th' immediate heir of England? Was this easy? +May this be washed in Lethe and forgotten? + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I then did use the person of your father; +The image of his power lay then in me. +And in th' administration of his law, +Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, +Your Highness pleased to forget my place, +The majesty and power of law and justice, +The image of the King whom I presented, +And struck me in my very seat of judgment, +Whereon, as an offender to your father, +I gave bold way to my authority +And did commit you. If the deed were ill, +Be you contented, wearing now the garland, +To have a son set your decrees at nought? +To pluck down justice from your awful bench? +To trip the course of law and blunt the sword +That guards the peace and safety of your person? +Nay more, to spurn at your most royal image +And mock your workings in a second body? +Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours; +Be now the father and propose a son, +Hear your own dignity so much profaned, +See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, +Behold yourself so by a son disdained, +And then imagine me taking your part +And in your power soft silencing your son. +After this cold considerance, sentence me, +And, as you are a king, speak in your state +What I have done that misbecame my place, +My person, or my liege's sovereignty. + +PRINCE +You are right, justice, and you weigh this well. +Therefore still bear the balance and the sword. +And I do wish your honors may increase +Till you do live to see a son of mine +Offend you and obey you as I did. +So shall I live to speak my father's words: +"Happy am I that have a man so bold +That dares do justice on my proper son; +And not less happy, having such a son +That would deliver up his greatness so +Into the hands of justice." You did commit me, +For which I do commit into your hand +Th' unstained sword that you have used to bear, +With this remembrance: that you use the same +With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit +As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand. +[They clasp hands.] +You shall be as a father to my youth, +My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, +And I will stoop and humble my intents +To your well-practiced wise directions.-- +And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you: +My father is gone wild into his grave, +For in his tomb lie my affections, +And with his spirits sadly I survive +To mock the expectation of the world, +To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out +Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down +After my seeming. The tide of blood in me +Hath proudly flowed in vanity till now. +Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, +Where it shall mingle with the state of floods +And flow henceforth in formal majesty. +Now call we our high court of parliament, +And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel +That the great body of our state may go +In equal rank with the best-governed nation; +That war, or peace, or both at once, may be +As things acquainted and familiar to us, +[To the Chief Justice.] In which you, father, shall +have foremost hand. +Our coronation done, we will accite, +As I before remembered, all our state. +And, God consigning to my good intents, +No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say +God shorten Harry's happy life one day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Davy, +Bardolph, and Page.] + + +SHALLOW Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an +arbor, we will eat a last year's pippin of mine own +graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth.-- +Come, cousin Silence.--And then to bed. + +FALSTAFF Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling, +and a rich. + +SHALLOW Barren, barren, barren, beggars all, beggars +all, Sir John. Marry, good air.--Spread, Davy, +spread, Davy. Well said, Davy. + +FALSTAFF This Davy serves you for good uses. He is +your servingman and your husband. + +SHALLOW A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good +varlet, Sir John. By the Mass, I have drunk too +much sack at supper. A good varlet. Now sit down, +now sit down.--Come, cousin. + +SILENCE Ah, sirrah, quoth he, we shall +[Sings.] Do nothing but eat and make good cheer, + And praise God for the merry year, + When flesh is cheap and females dear, + And lusty lads roam here and there + So merrily, + And ever among so merrily. + +FALSTAFF There's a merry heart!--Good Master Silence, +I'll give you a health for that anon. + +SHALLOW Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy. + +DAVY, [to the guests] Sweet sir, sit. I'll be with you +anon. Most sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master +page, sit. Proface. What you want in meat, we'll +have in drink, but you must bear. The heart's all. +[He exits.] + +SHALLOW Be merry, Master Bardolph.--And, my little +soldier there, be merry. + +SILENCE [sings] + Be merry, be merry, my wife has all, + For women are shrews, both short and tall. + 'Tis merry in hall when beards wags all, + And welcome merry Shrovetide. + Be merry, be merry. + +FALSTAFF I did not think Master Silence had been a +man of this mettle. + +SILENCE Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere +now. + +[Enter Davy.] + + +DAVY, [to the guests] There's a dish of leather-coats for +you. + +SHALLOW Davy! + +DAVY Your Worship, I'll be with you straight.--A cup +of wine, sir. + +SILENCE [sings] + A cup of wine that's brisk and fine, + And drink unto thee, leman mine, + And a merry heart lives long-a. + +FALSTAFF Well said, Master Silence. + +SILENCE And we shall be merry; now comes in the +sweet o' th' night. + +FALSTAFF Health and long life to you, Master Silence. + +SILENCE [sings] + Fill the cup, and let it come, + I'll pledge you a mile to th' bottom. + +SHALLOW Honest Bardolph, welcome. If thou want'st +anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.-- +Welcome, my little tiny thief, and welcome indeed +too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the +cabileros about London. + +DAVY I hope to see London once ere I die. + +BARDOLPH An I might see you there, Davy! + +SHALLOW By the Mass, you'll crack a quart together, +ha, will you not, Master Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. + +SHALLOW By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave +will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. He will not +out, he. 'Tis true bred! + +BARDOLPH And I'll stick by him, sir. + +SHALLOW Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing, be +merry. [(One knocks at door.)] Look who's at door +there, ho. Who knocks? [Davy exits.] + +FALSTAFF Why, now you have done me right. + +SILENCE [sings] + Do me right, + And dub me knight, + Samingo. +Is 't not so? + +FALSTAFF 'Tis so. + +SILENCE Is 't so? Why then, say an old man can do +somewhat. + +[Enter Davy.] + + +DAVY An 't please your Worship, there's one Pistol +come from the court with news. + +FALSTAFF From the court? Let him come in. + +[Enter Pistol.] + +How now, Pistol? + +PISTOL Sir John, God save you. + +FALSTAFF What wind blew you hither, Pistol? + +PISTOL Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. +Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men +in this realm. + +SILENCE By 'r Lady, I think he be, but Goodman Puff of +Barson. + +PISTOL Puff? +Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!-- +Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, +And helter-skelter have I rode to thee, +And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, +And golden times, and happy news of price. + +FALSTAFF I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of +this world. + +PISTOL +A foutre for the world and worldlings base! +I speak of Africa and golden joys. + +FALSTAFF +O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? +Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. + +SILENCE [sings] + And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. + +PISTOL +Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons, +And shall good news be baffled? +Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. + +SHALLOW Honest gentleman, I know not your +breeding. + +PISTOL Why then, lament therefor. + +SHALLOW Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with +news from the court, I take it there's but two ways, +either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir, +under the King in some authority. + +PISTOL +Under which king, besonian? Speak or die. + +SHALLOW +Under King Harry. + +PISTOL Harry the Fourth, or Fifth? + +SHALLOW +Harry the Fourth. + +PISTOL A foutre for thine office!-- +Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king. +Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth. +When Pistol lies, do this and fig me, like +The bragging Spaniard. [Pistol makes a fig.] + +FALSTAFF What, is the old king dead? + +PISTOL +As nail in door. The things I speak are just. + +FALSTAFF Away, Bardolph.--Saddle my horse.-- +Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou +wilt in the land, 'tis thine.--Pistol, I will double-charge +thee with dignities. + +BARDOLPH O joyful day! I would not take a knight-hood +for my fortune. + +PISTOL What, I do bring good news! + +FALSTAFF Carry Master Silence to bed.--Master Shallow, +my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt. I am +Fortune's steward. Get on thy boots. We'll ride all +night.--O sweet Pistol!--Away, Bardolph!--Come, +Pistol, utter more to me, and withal devise something +to do thyself good.--Boot, boot, Master Shallow. +I know the young king is sick for me. Let us +take any man's horses. The laws of England are at +my commandment. Blessed are they that have been +my friends, and woe to my Lord Chief Justice! + +PISTOL +Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! +"Where is the life that late I led?" say they. +Why, here it is. Welcome these pleasant days. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Hostess Quickly, Doll Tearsheet, and Beadles.] + + +HOSTESS No, thou arrant knave. I would to God that I +might die, that I might have thee hanged. Thou hast +drawn my shoulder out of joint. + +BEADLE The Constables have delivered her over to me, +and she shall have whipping cheer enough, I +warrant her. There hath been a man or two lately +killed about her. + +DOLL Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie! Come on, I'll tell +thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal: an the +child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert better +thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced +villain. + +HOSTESS O the Lord, that Sir John were come! I would +make this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God +the fruit of her womb might miscarry. + +BEADLE If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions +again; you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you +both go with me, for the man is dead that you and +Pistol beat amongst you. + +DOLL I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will +have you as soundly swinged for this, you bluebottle +rogue, you filthy famished correctioner. If you be +not swinged, I'll forswear half-kirtles. + +BEADLE Come, come, you she-knight-errant, come. + +HOSTESS O God, that right should thus overcome +might! Well, of sufferance comes ease. + +DOLL Come, you rogue, come, bring me to a justice. + +HOSTESS Ay, come, you starved bloodhound. + +DOLL Goodman Death, Goodman Bones! + +HOSTESS Thou atomy, thou! + +DOLL Come, you thin thing, come, you rascal. + +BEADLE Very well. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter two Grooms.] + + +FIRST GROOM More rushes, more rushes. + +SECOND GROOM The trumpets have sounded twice. + +FIRST GROOM 'Twill be two o'clock ere they come +from the coronation. Dispatch, dispatch. +[Grooms exit.] + +[Trumpets sound, and the King and his train pass over +the stage. After them enter Falstaff, Shallow, Pistol, +Bardolph, and the Page.] + + +FALSTAFF Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow. I +will make the King do you grace. I will leer upon +him as he comes by, and do but mark the countenance +that he will give me. + +PISTOL God bless thy lungs, good knight! + +FALSTAFF Come here, Pistol, stand behind me.--O, if I +had had time to have made new liveries, I would +have bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of +you. But 'tis no matter. This poor show doth better. +This doth infer the zeal I had to see him. + +SHALLOW It doth so. + +FALSTAFF It shows my earnestness of affection-- + +SHALLOW It doth so. + +FALSTAFF My devotion-- + +SHALLOW It doth, it doth, it doth. + +FALSTAFF As it were, to ride day and night, and not to +deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience +to shift me-- + +SHALLOW It is best, certain. + +FALSTAFF But to stand stained with travel and sweating +with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else, +putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there were +nothing else to be done but to see him. + +PISTOL 'Tis semper idem, for obsque hoc nihil est; 'tis +all in every part. + +SHALLOW 'Tis so indeed. + +PISTOL My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver, and +make thee rage. Thy Doll and Helen of thy noble +thoughts is in base durance and contagious prison, +haled thither by most mechanical and dirty hand. +Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell Alecto's +snake, for Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth. + +FALSTAFF I will deliver her. +[Shouts within. The trumpets sound.] + +PISTOL +There roared the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds. + +[Enter the King and his train.] + + +FALSTAFF +God save thy Grace, King Hal, my royal Hal. + +PISTOL +The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal +imp of fame! + +FALSTAFF God save thee, my sweet boy! + +KING +My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man. + +CHIEF JUSTICE, [to Falstaff] +Have you your wits? Know you what 'tis you +speak? + +FALSTAFF, [to the King] +My king, my Jove, I speak to thee, my heart! + +KING +I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers. +How ill white hairs becomes a fool and jester. +I have long dreamt of such a kind of man, +So surfeit-swelled, so old, and so profane; +But being awaked, I do despise my dream. +Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace; +Leave gormandizing. Know the grave doth gape +For thee thrice wider than for other men. +Reply not to me with a fool-born jest. +Presume not that I am the thing I was, +For God doth know--so shall the world perceive-- +That I have turned away my former self. +So will I those that kept me company. +When thou dost hear I am as I have been, +Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast, +The tutor and the feeder of my riots. +Till then I banish thee, on pain of death, +As I have done the rest of my misleaders, +Not to come near our person by ten mile. +For competence of life I will allow you, +That lack of means enforce you not to evils. +And, as we hear you do reform yourselves, +We will, according to your strengths and qualities, +Give you advancement. [To the Lord Chief Justice.] +Be it your charge, my lord, +To see performed the tenor of my word.-- +Set on. +[King and his train exit.] + +FALSTAFF Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound. + +SHALLOW Yea, marry, Sir John, which I beseech you to +let me have home with me. + +FALSTAFF That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not +you grieve at this. I shall be sent for in private to +him. Look you, he must seem thus to the world. +Fear not your advancements. I will be the man yet +that shall make you great. + +SHALLOW I cannot well perceive how, unless you +should give me your doublet and stuff me out with +straw. I beseech you, good Sir John, let me have five +hundred of my thousand. + +FALSTAFF Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that +you heard was but a color. + +SHALLOW A color that I fear you will die in, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF Fear no colors. Go with me to dinner.-- +Come, lieutenant Pistol.--Come, Bardolph.--I +shall be sent for soon at night. + +[Enter the Lord Chief Justice and Prince John, with +Officers.] + + +CHIEF JUSTICE +Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet. +Take all his company along with him. + +FALSTAFF My lord, my lord -- + +CHIEF JUSTICE +I cannot now speak. I will hear you soon.-- +Take them away. + +PISTOL Si fortuna me tormenta, spero me contenta. +[All but John of Lancaster and +Chief Justice exit.] + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +I like this fair proceeding of the King's. +He hath intent his wonted followers +Shall all be very well provided for, +But all are banished till their conversations +Appear more wise and modest to the world. + +CHIEF JUSTICE And so they are. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +The King hath called his parliament, my lord. + +CHIEF JUSTICE He hath. + +JOHN OF LANCASTER +I will lay odds that, ere this year expire, +We bear our civil swords and native fire +As far as France. I heard a bird so sing, +Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the King. +Come, will you hence? +[They exit.] + + +EPILOGUE +======== + + First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My +fear is your displeasure, my curtsy my duty, and my +speech, to beg your pardons. If you look for a good +speech now, you undo me, for what I have to say is +of mine own making, and what indeed I should say +will, I doubt, prove mine own marring. + But to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it +known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in +the end of a displeasing play to pray your patience +for it and to promise you a better. I meant indeed to +pay you with this, which, if like an ill venture it +come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle +creditors, lose. Here I promised you I would be, +and here I commit my body to your mercies. Bate +me some, and I will pay you some, and, as most +debtors do, promise you infinitely. And so I kneel +down before you, but, indeed, to pray for the +Queen. + If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, +will you command me to use my legs? And yet that +were but light payment, to dance out of your debt. +But a good conscience will make any possible +satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen +here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not, +then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, +which was never seen before in such an +assembly. + One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too +much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will +continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make +you merry with fair Katherine of France, where, for +anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless +already he be killed with your hard opinions; for +Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man. +My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid +you good night. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-v_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-v_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..68b3547 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-v_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4731 @@ +Henry V +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-v/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +CHORUS +HENRY V, KING OF ENGLAND +THOMAS, DUKE OF EXETER, uncle to the King +Brothers to the King: + HUMPHREY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER + JOHN, DUKE OF BEDFORD + THOMAS, DUKE OF CLARENCE +Cousins to the King: + DUKE OF YORK + EARL OF WESTMORELAND + EARL OF CAMBRIDGE +English nobles: + EARL OF WARWICK + EARL OF SALISBURY + EARL OF HUNTINGTON + LORD SCROOP OF MASHAM +SIR THOMAS GREY +HOSTESS QUICKLY +Former companions of Henry, now in his army: + PISTOL + NYM + BARDOLPH +BOY, their servant +Officers in Henry's army: + SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM + CAPTAIN FLUELLEN + CAPTAIN GOWER + CAPTAIN MACMORRIS + CAPTAIN JAMY +English heralds +Soldiers in Henry's army: + JOHN BATES + ALEXANDER COURT + MICHAEL WILLIAMS +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +BISHOP OF ELY + +KING OF FRANCE +QUEEN ISABEL OF FRANCE +KATHERINE, Princess of France +ALICE, a gentlewoman attending on Katherine +DAUPHIN (i.e., Prince) of France +French nobles: + DUKE OF BERRI + DUKE OF BRITTANY + DUKE OF ORLEANS + DUKE OF BOURBON + DUKE OF BURGUNDY + CONSTABLE OF FRANCE + LORD GRANDPRE + LORD RAMBURES + LORD BEAUMONT +MONTJOY, French herald +French ambassadors to England +MONSIEUR LE FER, a French soldier +Governor of Harfleur +Lords, Attendants, Soldiers, French Prisoners, Messengers + + +PROLOGUE +======== + +[Enter Chorus as Prologue.] + + +CHORUS +O, for a muse of fire that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention! +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels, +Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword, and +fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that hath dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object. Can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O pardon, since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million, +And let us, ciphers to this great account, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder. +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts. +Into a thousand parts divide one man, +And make imaginary puissance. +Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth, +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our +kings, +Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times, +Turning th' accomplishment of many years +Into an hourglass; for the which supply, +Admit me chorus to this history, +Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray +Gently to hear, kindly to judge our play. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the two Bishops of Canterbury and Ely.] + + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you that self bill is urged +Which in th' eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us passed +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +BISHOP OF ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession, +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the Church +Would they strip from us, being valued thus: +"As much as would maintain, to the King's honor, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil, +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the King besides, +A thousand pounds by th' year." Thus runs the bill. + +BISHOP OF ELY +This would drink deep. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY 'Twould drink the cup and +all. + +BISHOP OF ELY But what prevention? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +The King is full of grace and fair regard. + +BISHOP OF ELY +And a true lover of the holy Church. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seemed to die too. Yea, at that very moment +Consideration like an angel came +And whipped th' offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise +T' envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made, +Never came reformation in a flood +With such a heady currance scouring faults, +Nor never Hydra-headed willfulness +So soon did lose his seat, and all at once, +As in this king. + +BISHOP OF ELY We are blessed in the change. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity +And, all-admiring, with an inward wish +You would desire the King were made a prelate; +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study; +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle rendered you in music; +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose +Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks, +The air, a chartered libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears +To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric; +Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unlettered, rude, and shallow, +His hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +BISHOP OF ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle, +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbored by fruit of baser quality; +And so the Prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness, which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen yet crescive in his faculty. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +It must be so, for miracles are ceased, +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +BISHOP OF ELY But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the Commons? Doth his Majesty +Incline to it or no? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing th' exhibitors against us; +For I have made an offer to his Majesty-- +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have opened to his Grace at large, +As touching France--to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +BISHOP OF ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his Majesty-- +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his Grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms, +And generally to the crown and seat of France, +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +BISHOP OF ELY +What was th' impediment that broke this off? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience. And the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing. Is it four o'clock? + +BISHOP OF ELY It is. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +Then go we in to know his embassy, +Which I could with a ready guess declare +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +BISHOP OF ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the King of England, Humphrey Duke of +Gloucester, Bedford, Clarence, Warwick, Westmoreland, +and Exeter, with other Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in th' Ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY +Not yet, my cousin. We would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts concerning us and France. + +[Enter the two Bishops of Canterbury and Ely.] + + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it. + +KING HENRY Sure we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salic that they have in France +Or should or should not bar us in our claim. +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your +reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colors with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war. +We charge you in the name of God, take heed, +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood, whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the +swords +That makes such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord, +For we will hear, note, and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience washed +As pure as sin with baptism. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers +That owe yourselves, your lives, and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your Highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond: +"In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant +(No woman shall succeed in Salic land), +Which Salic land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salic is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe, +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the +Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French, +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Established then this law: to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salic land, +Which "Salic," as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala +Is at this day in Germany called Meissen. +Then doth it well appear the Salic law +Was not devised for the realm of France, +Nor did the French possess the Salic land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law, +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the Duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +Though in pure truth it was corrupt and naught, +Conveyed himself as th' heir to th' Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemagne, who was the son +To Lewis the Emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid Duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was reunited to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun, +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female. +So do the kings of France unto this day, +Howbeit they would hold up this Salic law +To bar your Highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurped from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign, +For in the Book of Numbers is it writ: +"When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter." Gracious lord, +Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag, +Look back into your mighty ancestors. +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground played a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English, that could entertain +With half their forces the full pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +BISHOP OF ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats. +You are their heir, you sit upon their throne, +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the Earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your Grace hath cause and means and +might; +So hath your Highness. Never king of England +Had nobles richer, and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilioned in the fields of France. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right, +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your Highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY +We must not only arm t' invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbor to us. +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnished kingdom +Came pouring like the tide into a breach +With ample and brim fullness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns, +That England, being empty of defense, +Hath shook and trembled at th' ill neighborhood. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY +She hath been then more feared than harmed, my +liege, +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots, whom she did send to France +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wrack and sumless treasuries. + +BISHOP OF ELY +But there's a saying very old and true: + "If that you will France win, + Then with Scotland first begin." +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To 'tame and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows, then, the cat must stay at home. +Yet that is but a crushed necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +Th' advised head defends itself at home. +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +BISHOP OF CANTERBURY Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavor in continual motion, +To which is fixed as an aim or butt +Obedience; for so work the honeybees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts, +Where some like magistrates correct at home, +Others like merchants venture trade abroad, +Others like soldiers armed in their stings +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent royal of their emperor, +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice with his surly hum +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer: +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously, +As many arrows loosed several ways +Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town, +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea, +As many lines close in the dial's center, +So may a thousand actions, once afoot, +End in one purpose and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege! +Divide your happy England into four, +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried, and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. +[Attendants exit.] +Now are we well resolved, and by God's help +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe +Or break it all to pieces. Or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them. +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshiped with a waxen epitaph. + +[Enter Ambassadors of France, with Attendants. +] + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin, for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the King. + +AMBASSADOR +May 't please your Majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge, +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king, +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As is our wretches fettered in our prisons. +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +AMBASSADOR Thus, then, in few: +Your Highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third; +In answer of which claim, the Prince our master +Says that you savor too much of your youth +And bids you be advised there's naught in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER Tennis balls, +my liege. + +KING HENRY +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us. +His present and your pains we thank you for. +When we have matched our rackets to these balls, +We will in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a +wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturbed +With chases. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England, +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous license, as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France, +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working days; +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turned his balls to gun-stones, and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them; for many a thousand +widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands, +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal, and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallowed cause. +So get you hence in peace. And tell the Dauphin +His jest will savor but of shallow wit +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.-- +Convey them with safe conduct.--Fare you well. +[Ambassadors exit, with Attendants.] + +EXETER This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furth'rance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected, and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings. For, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. +[Flourish. They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + + +[Enter Chorus.] + + +CHORUS +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; +Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man. +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings +With winged heels, as English Mercurys. +For now sits Expectation in the air +And hides a sword, from hilts unto the point, +With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear, and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England, model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What might'st thou do, that honor would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see, thy fault France hath in thee found out, +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns, and three corrupted men-- +One, Richard, Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland-- +Have, for the gilt of France (O guilt indeed!), +Confirmed conspiracy with fearful France, +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on, and we'll digest +Th' abuse of distance, force a play. +The sum is paid, the traitors are agreed, +The King is set from London, and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton. +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit, +And thence to France shall we convey you safe +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the King come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Corporal Nym and Lieutenant Bardolph.] + + +BARDOLPH Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends +yet? + +NYM For my part, I care not. I say little, but when time +shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that shall be as +it may. I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out +mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? It +will toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another +man's sword will, and there's an end. + +BARDOLPH I will bestow a breakfast to make you +friends, and we'll be all three sworn brothers to +France. Let 't be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may. That is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH It is certain, corporal, that he is married to +Nell Quickly, and certainly she did you wrong, for +you were troth-plight to her. + +NYM I cannot tell. Things must be as they may. Men +may sleep, and they may have their throats about +them at that time, and some say knives have edges. +It must be as it may. Though patience be a tired +mare, yet she will plod. There must be conclusions. +Well, I cannot tell. + +[Enter Pistol and Hostess Quickly.] + + +BARDOLPH Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. +Good corporal, be patient here.--How now, mine +host Pistol? + +PISTOL Base tyke, call'st thou me host? Now, by this +hand, I swear I scorn the term, nor shall my Nell +keep lodgers. + +HOSTESS No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot +lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen +that live honestly by the prick of their needles but it +will be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. +[Nym and Pistol draw their swords.] +O well-a-day, Lady! If he be not hewn now, we shall +see willful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH Good lieutenant, good corporal, offer nothing +here. + +NYM Pish! + +PISTOL Pish for thee, Iceland dog, thou prick-eared +cur of Iceland! + +HOSTESS Good Corporal Nym, show thy valor, and put +up your sword. + +NYM Will you shog off? [To Pistol.] I would have you +solus. + +PISTOL "Solus, egregious dog? O viper vile, the solus +in thy most marvelous face, the solus in thy teeth +and in thy throat and in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy +maw, perdy, and, which is worse, within thy nasty +mouth! I do retort the solus in thy bowels, for I can +take, and Pistol's cock is up, and flashing fire will +follow. + +NYM I am not Barbason, you cannot conjure me. I +have an humor to knock you indifferently well. If +you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with +my rapier, as I may, in fair terms. If you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little in good terms, as +I may, and that's the humor of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight, +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near. +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes +the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a +soldier. [He draws.] + +PISTOL An oath of mickle might, and fury shall abate. +[Pistol and Nym and then Bardolph +sheathe their swords.] +Give me thy fist, thy forefoot to me give. Thy spirits +are most tall. + +NYM, [to Pistol] I will cut thy throat one time or other +in fair terms, that is the humor of it. + +PISTOL Couple a gorge, that is the word. I defy thee +again. O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to +get? No, to the spital go, and from the powd'ring tub +of infamy fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse. I +have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly for the +only she: and pauca, there's enough too! Go to. + +[Enter the Boy.] + + +BOY Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, +and your hostess. He is very sick and would to +bed.--Good Bardolph, put thy face between his +sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, +he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH Away, you rogue! + +HOSTESS By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding +one of these days. The King has killed his heart. +Good husband, come home presently. +[She exits with the Boy.] + +BARDOLPH Come, shall I make you two friends? We +must to France together. Why the devil should we +keep knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at +betting? + +PISTOL Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM That now I will have, that's the humor of it. + +PISTOL As manhood shall compound. Push home. +[They draw.] + +BARDOLPH, [drawing his sword] By this sword, he that +makes the first thrust, I'll kill him. By this sword, I +will. + +PISTOL, [sheathing his sword] "Sword" is an oath, and +oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be +friends; an thou wilt not, why then be enemies with +me too. Prithee, put up. + +PISTOL, [to Nym] A noble shalt thou have, and present +pay, and liquor likewise will I give to thee, and +friendship shall combine, and brotherhood. I'll live +by Nym, and Nym shall live by me. Is not this just? +For I shall sutler be unto the camp, and profits will +accrue. Give me thy hand. + +NYM I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL In cash, most justly paid. + +NYM Well, then, that's the humor of 't. +[Nym and Bardolph sheathe their swords.] + +[Enter Hostess.] + + +HOSTESS As ever you come of women, come in quickly +to Sir John. Ah, poor heart, he is so shaked of a +burning quotidian-tertian that it is most lamentable +to behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM The King hath run bad humors on the knight, +that's the even of it. + +PISTOL Nym, thou hast spoke the right. His heart is +fracted and corroborate. + +NYM The King is a good king, but it must be as it may; +he passes some humors and careers. + +PISTOL Let us condole the knight, for, lambkins, we +will live. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Exeter, Bedford, and Westmoreland.] + + +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his Grace is bold to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves, +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The King hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dulled and cloyed with gracious +favors-- +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery! + +[Sound Trumpets. Enter the King of England, +Scroop, Cambridge, and Grey, with Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.-- +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of +Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts. +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY +I doubt not that, since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better feared and loved +Than is your Majesty. There's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True. Those that were your father's enemies +Have steeped their galls in honey, and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness, +And shall forget the office of our hand +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labor shall refresh itself with hope +To do your Grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY +We judge no less.--Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday +That railed against our person. We consider +It was excess of wine that set him on, +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security. +Let him be punished, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your Highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, you show great mercy if you give him life +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch. +If little faults proceeding on distemper +Shall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chewed, swallowed, and +digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey, in their dear +care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French +causes. +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE I one, my lord. +Your Highness bade me ask for it today. + +SCROOP So did you me, my liege. + +GREY And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY, [giving them papers] +Then Richard, Earl of Cambridge, there is yours-- +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham.--And, sir +knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.-- +Read them, and know I know your worthiness.-- +My Lord of Westmoreland and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard tonight.--Why how now, gentlemen? +What see you in those papers, that you lose +So much complexion?--Look you, how they change. +Their cheeks are paper.--Why, what read you there +That have so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE I do confess my fault, +And do submit me to your Highness' mercy. + +GREY/SCROOP To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY +The mercy that was quick in us but late +By your own counsel is suppressed and killed. +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy, +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.-- +See you, my princes and my noble peers, +These English monsters. My Lord of Cambridge +here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appurtenants +Belonging to his honor, and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired +And sworn unto the practices of France +To kill us here in Hampton; to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn.--But O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop, thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature? +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coined me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practiced on me for thy use-- +May it be possible that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause +That admiration did not whoop at them. +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder, +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence. +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colors, and with forms being fetched +From glist'ring semblances of piety; +But he that tempered thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gulled thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back +And tell the legions "I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's." +O, how hast thou with jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou. Seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou. Come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou. Seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnished and decked in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem. +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot +To mark the full-fraught man and best endued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee, +For this revolt of thine methinks is like +Another fall of man.--Their faults are open. +Arrest them to the answer of the law, +And God acquit them of their practices. + +EXETER I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard, Earl of Cambridge.-- +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham.-- +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discovered, +And I repent my fault more than my death, +Which I beseech your Highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce, +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended; +But God be thanked for prevention, +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself, +Prevented from a damned enterprise. +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY +God quit you in His mercy. Hear your sentence: +You have conspired against our royal person, +Joined with an enemy proclaimed, and from his +coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death, +Wherein you would have sold your king to +slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt, +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person, seek we no revenge, +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death, +The taste whereof God of His mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offenses.--Bear them hence. +[They exit under guard.] +Now, lords, for France, the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen. Let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea. The signs of war advance. +No king of England if not king of France. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, Boy, and Hostess.] + + +HOSTESS Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring +thee to Staines. + +PISTOL No; for my manly heart doth earn.--Bardolph, +be blithe.--Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins.-- Boy, +bristle thy courage up. For Falstaff, he is dead, and +we must earn therefore. + +BARDOLPH Would I were with him, wheresome'er he +is, either in heaven or in hell. + +HOSTESS Nay, sure, he's not in hell! He's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. He +made a finer end, and went away an it had been any +christom child. He parted ev'n just between twelve +and one, ev'n at the turning o' th' tide; for after I saw +him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers +and smile upon his finger's end, I knew there was +but one way, for his nose was as sharp as a pen and +he talked of green fields. "How now, Sir John?" +quoth I. "What, man, be o' good cheer!" So he cried +out "God, God, God!" three or four times. Now I, to +comfort him, bid him he should not think of God; I +hoped there was no need to trouble himself with +any such thoughts yet. So he bade me lay more +clothes on his feet. I put my hand into the bed and +felt them, and they were as cold as any stone. Then I +felt to his knees, and so upward and upward, and +all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM They say he cried out of sack. + +HOSTESS Ay, that he did. + +BARDOLPH And of women. + +HOSTESS Nay, that he did not. + +BOY Yes, that he did, and said they were devils +incarnate. + +HOSTESS He could never abide carnation. 'Twas a +color he never liked. + +BOY He said once, the devil would have him about +women. + +HOSTESS He did in some sort, indeed, handle women, +but then he was rheumatic and talked of the Whore +of Babylon. + +BOY Do you not remember he saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and he said it was a black soul +burning in hell? + +BARDOLPH Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that +fire. That's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM Shall we shog? The King will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL Come, let's away.--My love, give me thy lips. +[They kiss.] Look to my chattels and my movables. +Let senses rule. The word is "Pitch and pay." Trust +none, for oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +and Holdfast is the only dog, my duck. +Therefore, Caveto be thy counselor. Go, clear thy +crystals.--Yoke-fellows in arms, let us to France, +like horse-leeches, my boys, to suck, to suck, the +very blood to suck. + +BOY And that's but unwholesome food, they say. + +PISTOL Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH, [kissing the Hostess] Farewell, hostess. + +NYM I cannot kiss, that is the humor of it. But adieu. + +PISTOL, [to the Hostess] Let huswifery appear. Keep +close, I thee command. + +HOSTESS Farewell. Adieu. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Flourish. Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes + of Berri and Brittany, the Constable, and others.] + + +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us, +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defenses. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Brittany, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new-repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant. +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe, +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question +But that defenses, musters, preparations +Should be maintained, assembled, and collected +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France. +And let us do it with no show of fear, +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance. +For, my good liege, she is so idly kinged, +Her scepter so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +CONSTABLE O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king. +Question your Grace the late ambassadors +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble councillors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly, +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable. +But though we think it so, it is no matter. +In cases of defense, 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems. +So the proportions of defense are filled, +Which of a weak and niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE Think we King Harry strong, +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been fleshed upon us, +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths. +Witness our too-much-memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck +And all our princes captived by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of +Wales, +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing +Up in the air, crowned with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed and smiled to see him +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock, and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your Majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring +them. [Messenger exits.] +You see this chase is hotly followed, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head and stop pursuit, for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to +threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head. +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +[Enter Exeter, with Lords and Attendants.] + + +KING OF FRANCE From our brother of England? + +EXETER +From him, and thus he greets your Majesty: +He wills you, in the name of God almighty, +That you divest yourself and lay apart +The borrowed glories that, by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'longs +To him and to his heirs--namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honors that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim +Picked from the wormholes of long-vanished days +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +[He offers a paper.] +In every branch truly demonstrative, +Willing you overlook this pedigree, +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him, the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint, for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it. +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel, +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws, and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, +The dead men's blood, the prived maidens' +groans, +For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers +That shall be swallowed in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message-- +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further. +Tomorrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother of England. + +DAUPHIN, [to Exeter] For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him. What to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance, slight regard, contempt, +And anything that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king: an if your father's Highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordinance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will, for I desire +Nothing but odds with England. To that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress court of mighty Europe. +And be assured you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now. Now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain. That you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +Tomorrow shall you know our mind at full. +[Flourish.] + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay, +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatched with fair conditions. +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. +[Flourish. They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + + +[Enter Chorus.] + + +CHORUS +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Dover pier +Embark his royalty, and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus +fanning. +Play with your fancies and in them behold, +Upon the hempen tackle, shipboys climbing. +Hear the shrill whistle, which doth order give +To sounds confused. Behold the threaden sails, +Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea, +Breasting the lofty surge. O, do but think +You stand upon the rivage and behold +A city on th' inconstant billows dancing, +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow! +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance, +For who is he whose chin is but enriched +With one appearing hair that will not follow +These culled and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose th' Ambassador from the French comes +back, +Tells Harry that the King doth offer him +Katherine his daughter and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not, and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, +[Alarum, and chambers go off.] +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the King of England, Exeter, Bedford, and +Gloucester. Alarum. Enter Soldiers with scaling +ladders at Harfleur.] + + +KING HENRY +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once +more, +Or close the wall up with our English dead! +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility, +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger: +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage, +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect, +Let it pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon, let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base +Swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English, +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof, +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought, +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. +Dishonor not your mothers. Now attest +That those whom you called fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood +And teach them how to war. And you, good +yeomen, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture. Let us swear +That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt +not, +For there is none of you so mean and base +That hath not noble luster in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot. +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" +[Alarum, and chambers go off.] +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.] + + +BARDOLPH On, on, on, on, on! To the breach, to the +breach! + +NYM Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too hot, +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives. +The humor of it is too hot; that is the very plainsong +of it. + +PISTOL "The plainsong" is most just, for humors do +abound. +Knocks go and come. God's vassals drop and die, +[Sings] And sword and shield, + In bloody field, + Doth win immortal fame. + +BOY Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would +give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety. + +PISTOL And I. +[Sings] If wishes would prevail with me, + My purpose should not fail with me, + But thither would I hie. + +BOY [sings] As duly, + But not as truly, + As bird doth sing on bough. + +[Enter Fluellen. +] + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! Avaunt, you cullions! + +PISTOL Be merciful, great duke, to men of mold. Abate +thy rage, abate thy manly rage, abate thy rage, great +duke. Good bawcock, 'bate thy rage. Use lenity, +sweet chuck. + +NYM, [to Fluellen] These be good humors. Your Honor +wins bad humors. +[All but the Boy exit.] + +BOY As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three, but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be +man to me. For indeed three such antics do not +amount to a man: for Bardolph, he is white-livered +and red-faced, by the means whereof he faces it out +but fights not; for Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword, by the means whereof he breaks +words and keeps whole weapons; for Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men, and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest he should +be thought a coward, but his few bad words are +matched with as few good deeds, for he never broke +any man's head but his own, and that was against a +post when he was drunk. They will steal anything +and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute case, bore +it twelve leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. +Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, +and in Calais they stole a fire shovel. I knew by that +piece of service the men would carry coals. They +would have me as familiar with men's pockets as +their gloves or their handkerchers, which makes +much against my manhood, if I should take from +another's pocket to put into mine, for it is plain +pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and seek +some better service. Their villainy goes against my +weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. +[He exits.] + +[Enter Fluellen and Gower.] + + +GOWER Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to +the mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak +with you. + +FLUELLEN To the mines? Tell you the Duke it is not so +good to come to the mines, for, look you, the mines +is not according to the disciplines of the war. The +concavities of it is not sufficient, for, look you, th' +athversary, you may discuss unto the Duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the countermines. +By Cheshu, I think he will plow up all if +there is not better directions. + +GOWER The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of +the siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER I think it be. + +FLUELLEN By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world. I +will verify as much in his beard. He has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy dog. + +[Enter Captain Macmorris, and Captain Jamy.] + + +GOWER Here he comes, and the Scots captain, Captain +Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN Captain Jamy is a marvelous falorous gentleman, +that is certain, and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man +in the world in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY I say gudday, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN Godden to your Worship, good Captain +James. + +GOWER How now, Captain Macmorris, have you quit +the mines? Have the pioners given o'er? + +MACMORRIS By Chrish, la, 'tish ill done. The work ish +give over. The trompet sound the retreat. By my +hand I swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill +done. It ish give over. I would have blowed up the +town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O, 'tish ill +done, 'tish ill done, by my hand, 'tish ill done. + +FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, +will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations +with you as partly touching or concerning the +disciplines of the war, the Roman wars? In the way +of argument, look you, and friendly communication, +partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the +satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the +direction of the military discipline, that is the point. + +JAMY It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captens bath, +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion, that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save +me. The day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, +and the King, and the dukes. It is no time to +discourse. The town is beseeched. An the trumpet +call us to the breach and we talk and, be Chrish, do +nothing, 'tis shame for us all. So God sa' me, 'tis +shame to stand still. It is shame, by my hand. And +there is throats to be cut, and works to be done, +and there ish nothing done, so Christ sa' me, la. + +JAMY By the Mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or I'll lig i' +th' grund for it, ay, or go to death. And I'll pay 't as +valorously as I may, that sall I suerly do, that is the +breff and the long. Marry, I wad full fain heard +some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under +your correction, there is not many of your +nation-- + +MACMORRIS Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a +villain and a basterd and a knave and a rascal. What +ish my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN Look you, if you take the matter otherwise +than is meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I +shall think you do not use me with that affability as, +in discretion, you ought to use me, look you, being +as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war and in the derivation of my birth, and in other +particularities. + +MACMORRIS I do not know you so good a man as +myself. So Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY Ah, that's a foul fault. +[A parley sounds.] + +GOWER The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN Captain Macmorris, when there is more +better opportunity to be required, look you, I will +be so bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of +war, and there is an end. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King of England and all his train +before the gates.] + + +KING HENRY, [to the men of Harfleur] +How yet resolves the Governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit. +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves +Or, like to men proud of destruction, +Defy us to our worst. For, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the batt'ry once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand, shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants. +What is it then to me if impious war, +Arrayed in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do with his smirched complexion all fell feats +Enlinked to waste and desolation? +What is 't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the Leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command, +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Desire the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters, +Your fathers taken by the silver beards +And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? Will you yield and this avoid +Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed? + +[Enter Governor.] + + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end. +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates, dispose of us and ours, +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY +Open your gates. [Governor exits.] +Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur. There remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French. +Use mercy to them all for us, dear uncle. +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +Tonight in Harfleur will we be your guest. +Tomorrow for the march are we addressed. +[Flourish, and enter the town.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Katherine and Alice, an old Gentlewoman.] + + +KATHERINE Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles +bien le langage. + +ALICE Un peu, madame. + +KATHERINE Je te prie, m'enseignez. Il faut que j'apprenne +a parler. Comment appelez-vous "la main" en +anglais? + +ALICE La main? Elle est appelee "de hand." + +KATHERINE De hand. Et "les doigts"? + +ALICE Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je +me souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont +appeles "de fingres"; oui, de fingres. + +KATHERINE La main, de hand. Les doigts, le fingres. +Je pense que je suis le bon ecolier. J'ai gagne deux +mots d'anglais vitement. Comment appelez-vous "les +ongles"? + +ALICE Les ongles? Nous les appelons "de nailes." + +KATHERINE De nailes. Ecoutez. Dites-moi si je parle +bien: de hand, de fingres, et de nailes. + +ALICE C'est bien dit, madame. Il est fort bon anglais. + +KATHERINE Dites-moi l'anglais pour "le bras." + +ALICE "De arme," madame. + +KATHERINE Et "le coude"? + +ALICE "D' elbow." + +KATHERINE D' elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous +les mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHERINE Excusez-moi, Alice. Ecoutez: d' hand, de +fingre, de nailes, d' arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE D' elbow, madame. + +KATHERINE O Seigneur Dieu! Je m'en oublie; d' elbow. +Comment appelez-vous "le col"? + +ALICE "De nick," madame. + +KATHERINE De nick. Et "le menton"? + +ALICE "De chin." + +KATHERINE De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin. + +ALICE Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHERINE Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par le grace +de Dieu, et en peu de temps. + +ALICE N'avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai +enseigne? + +KATHERINE Non. Je reciterai a vous promptement: d' +hand, de fingre, de mailes-- + +ALICE De nailes, madame. + +KATHERINE De nailes, de arme, de ilbow-- + +ALICE Sauf votre honneur, d' elbow. + +KATHERINE Ainsi dis-je: d' elbow, de nick, et de sin. +Comment appelez-vous "le pied" et "la robe"? + +ALICE "Le foot," madame, et "le count." + +KATHERINE Le foot, et le count. O Seigneur Dieu! Ils +sont les mots de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et +impudique, et non pour les dames d'honneur d'user. +Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs +de France, pour tout le monde. Foh! Le foot et le +count! Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma +lecon ensemble: d' hand, de fingre, de nailes, d' +arme, d' elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, le count. + +ALICE Excellent, madame. + +KATHERINE C'est assez pour une fois. Allons-nous a +diner. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter the King of France, the Dauphin, the Duke of +Brittany, the Constable of France, and others.] + + +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath passed the river Somme. + +CONSTABLE +An if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France. Let us quit all, +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant, shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spurt up so suddenly into the clouds +And overlook their grafters? + +BRITTANY +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie, if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom +To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +CONSTABLE +Dieu de batailles, where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-reined jades, their barley broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honor of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty +people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +"Poor" we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN By faith and honor, +Our madams mock at us and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out, and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BRITTANY +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos, +Saying our grace is only in our heels +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence. +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes, and, with spirit of honor edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jacques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Faulconbridge, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciquault, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and +knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur. +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon. +Go down upon him--you have power enough-- +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +CONSTABLE This becomes the great! +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famished in their march, +For, I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy, +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give.-- +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your Majesty. + +KING +Be patient, for you shall remain with us.-- +Now forth, Lord Constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Captains, English and Welsh, Gower and Fluellen.] + + +GOWER How now, Captain Fluellen? Come you from +the bridge? + +FLUELLEN I assure you there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as +Agamemnon, and a man that I love and honor with +my soul and my heart and my duty and my life and +my living and my uttermost power. He is not, God +be praised and blessed, any hurt in the world, but +keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent +discipline. There is an aunchient lieutenant there at +the pridge; I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony, and he is a man of no +estimation in the world, but I did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER I know him not. + +[Enter Pistol.] + + +FLUELLEN Here is the man. + +PISTOL Captain, I thee beseech to do me favors. The +Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN Ay, I praise God, and I have merited some +love at his hands. + +PISTOL Bardolph, a soldier firm and sound of heart and +of buxom valor, hath, by cruel Fate and giddy +Fortune's furious fickle wheel, that goddess blind, +that stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN By your patience, Aunchient Pistol, Fortune +is painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel to signify to you, which is +the moral of it, that she is turning and inconstant, +and mutability and variation; and her foot, look you, +is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls and rolls +and rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most +excellent description of it. Fortune is an excellent +moral. + +PISTOL Fortune is Bardolph's foe and frowns on him, +for he hath stolen a pax and hanged must he be. A +damned death! Let gallows gape for dog, let man go +free, and let not hemp his windpipe suffocate. But +Exeter hath given the doom of death for pax of little +price. Therefore go speak; the Duke will hear thy +voice, and let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +with edge of penny cord and vile reproach. Speak, +captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand +your meaning. + +PISTOL Why then, rejoice therefore. + +FLUELLEN Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to +rejoice at, for if, look you, he were my brother, I +would desire the Duke to use his good pleasure and +put him to execution, for discipline ought to be +used. + +PISTOL Die and be damned, and figo for thy friendship! + +FLUELLEN It is well. + +PISTOL The fig of Spain! [He exits.] + +FLUELLEN Very good. + +GOWER Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal. I +remember him now, a bawd, a cutpurse. + +FLUELLEN I'll assure you he uttered as prave words at +the pridge as you shall see in a summer's day. But it +is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I +warrant you, when time is serve. + +GOWER Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and +then goes to the wars to grace himself at his return +into London under the form of a soldier; and such +fellows are perfect in the great commanders' +names, and they will learn you by rote where +services were done--at such and such a sconce, at +such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off +bravely, who was shot, who disgraced, what terms +the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in +the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned +oaths; and what a beard of the general's cut +and a horrid suit of the camp will do among +foaming bottles and ale-washed wits is wonderful to +be thought on. But you must learn to know such +slanders of the age, or else you may be marvelously +mistook. + +FLUELLEN I tell you what, Captain Gower. I do perceive +he is not the man that he would gladly make +show to the world he is. If I find a hole in his coat, I +will tell him my mind. + +[Drum and Colors. Enter the King of England and his +poor Soldiers, and Gloucester.] + +Hark you, the King is coming, and I must speak +with him from the pridge.--God pless your +Majesty. + +KING HENRY How now, Fluellen, cam'st thou from the +bridge? + +FLUELLEN Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of +Exeter has very gallantly maintained the pridge. +The French is gone off, look you, and there is gallant +and most prave passages. Marry, th' athversary was +have possession of the pridge, but he is enforced +to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the +pridge. I can tell your Majesty, the Duke is a prave +man. + +KING HENRY What men have you lost, Fluellen? + +FLUELLEN The perdition of th' athversary hath been +very great, reasonable great. Marry, for my part, I +think the Duke hath lost never a man but one that is +like to be executed for robbing a church, one +Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man. His face is +all bubukles and whelks and knobs and flames o' +fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a +coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red, but +his nose is executed, and his fire's out. + +KING HENRY We would have all such offenders so cut +off; and we give express charge that in our marches +through the country there be nothing compelled +from the villages, nothing taken but paid for, +none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful +language; for when lenity and cruelty play +for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest +winner. + +[Tucket. Enter Montjoy.] + + +MONTJOY You know me by my habit. + +KING HENRY Well then, I know thee. What shall I know +of thee? + +MONTJOY My master's mind. + +KING HENRY Unfold it. + +MONTJOY Thus says my king: "Say thou to Harry of +England, though we seemed dead, we did but sleep. +Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him +we could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we +thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full +ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is +imperial. England shall repent his folly, see his +weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him +therefore consider of his ransom, which must proportion +the losses we have borne, the subjects we +have lost, the disgrace we have digested, which, in +weight to reanswer, his pettiness would bow under. +For our losses, his exchequer is too poor; for th' +effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom +too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own +person kneeling at our feet but a weak and worthless +satisfaction. To this, add defiance, and tell him, +for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, +whose condemnation is pronounced." So far my +king and master; so much my office. + +KING HENRY +What is thy name? I know thy quality. + +MONTJOY Montjoy. + +KING HENRY +Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back, +And tell thy king I do not seek him now +But could be willing to march on to Calais +Without impeachment, for, to say the sooth, +Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much +Unto an enemy of craft and vantage, +My people are with sickness much enfeebled, +My numbers lessened, and those few I have +Almost no better than so many French, +Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald, +I thought upon one pair of English legs +Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God, +That I do brag thus. This your air of France +Hath blown that vice in me. I must repent. +Go therefore, tell thy master: here I am. +My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk, +My army but a weak and sickly guard, +Yet, God before, tell him we will come on +Though France himself and such another neighbor +Stand in our way. There's for thy labor, Montjoy. +[Gives money.] +Go bid thy master well advise himself: +If we may pass, we will; if we be hindered, +We shall your tawny ground with your red blood +Discolor. And so, Montjoy, fare you well. +The sum of all our answer is but this: +We would not seek a battle as we are, +Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it. +So tell your master. + +MONTJOY +I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness. +[He exits.] + +GLOUCESTER +I hope they will not come upon us now. + +KING HENRY +We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs. +March to the bridge. It now draws toward night. +Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves, +And on tomorrow bid them march away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, +Orleans, Dauphin, with others.] + + +CONSTABLE Tut, I have the best armor of the world. +Would it were day! + +ORLEANS You have an excellent armor, but let my +horse have his due. + +CONSTABLE It is the best horse of Europe. + +ORLEANS Will it never be morning? + +DAUPHIN My Lord of Orleans and my Lord High Constable, +you talk of horse and armor? + +ORLEANS You are as well provided of both as any +prince in the world. + +DAUPHIN What a long night is this! I will not change +my horse with any that treads but on four pasterns. +Ca, ha! He bounds from the earth, as if his +entrails were hairs, le cheval volant, the Pegasus, qui +a les narines de feu. When I bestride him, I soar; I +am a hawk; he trots the air. The earth sings when he +touches it. The basest horn of his hoof is more +musical than the pipe of Hermes. + +ORLEANS He's of the color of the nutmeg. + +DAUPHIN And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for +Perseus. He is pure air and fire, and the dull +elements of earth and water never appear in him, +but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts +him. He is indeed a horse, and all other jades you +may call beasts. + +CONSTABLE Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and +excellent horse. + +DAUPHIN It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like +the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance +enforces homage. + +ORLEANS No more, cousin. + +DAUPHIN Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from +the rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb, +vary deserved praise on my palfrey. It is a theme as +fluent as the sea. Turn the sands into eloquent +tongues, and my horse is argument for them all. 'Tis +a subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for a +sovereign's sovereign to ride on, and for the world, +familiar to us and unknown, to lay apart their +particular functions and wonder at him. I once writ +a sonnet in his praise and began thus: "Wonder of +nature--" + +ORLEANS I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's +mistress. + +DAUPHIN Then did they imitate that which I composed +to my courser, for my horse is my mistress. + +ORLEANS Your mistress bears well. + +DAUPHIN Me well--which is the prescript praise and +perfection of a good and particular mistress. + +CONSTABLE Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress +shrewdly shook your back. + +DAUPHIN So perhaps did yours. + +CONSTABLE Mine was not bridled. + +DAUPHIN O, then belike she was old and gentle, and +you rode like a kern of Ireland, your French hose +off, and in your strait strossers. + +CONSTABLE You have good judgment in horsemanship. + +DAUPHIN Be warned by me, then: they that ride so, and +ride not warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have +my horse to my mistress. + +CONSTABLE I had as lief have my mistress a jade. + +DAUPHIN I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears his +own hair. + +CONSTABLE I could make as true a boast as that if I had +a sow to my mistress. + +DAUPHIN "Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, +et la truie lavee au bourbier." Thou mak'st use +of anything. + +CONSTABLE Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, +or any such proverb so little kin to the purpose. + +RAMBURES My Lord Constable, the armor that I saw in +your tent tonight, are those stars or suns upon it? + +CONSTABLE Stars, my lord. + +DAUPHIN Some of them will fall tomorrow, I hope. + +CONSTABLE And yet my sky shall not want. + +DAUPHIN That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, +and 'twere more honor some were away. + +CONSTABLE Ev'n as your horse bears your praises-- +who would trot as well were some of your brags +dismounted. + +DAUPHIN Would I were able to load him with his +desert! Will it never be day? I will trot tomorrow a +mile, and my way shall be paved with English faces. + +CONSTABLE I will not say so for fear I should be faced +out of my way. But I would it were morning, for I +would fain be about the ears of the English. + +RAMBURES Who will go to hazard with me for twenty +prisoners? + +CONSTABLE You must first go yourself to hazard ere you +have them. + +DAUPHIN 'Tis midnight. I'll go arm myself. [He exits.] + +ORLEANS The Dauphin longs for morning. + +RAMBURES He longs to eat the English. + +CONSTABLE I think he will eat all he kills. + +ORLEANS By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant +prince. + +CONSTABLE Swear by her foot, that she may tread out +the oath. + +ORLEANS He is simply the most active gentleman of +France. + +CONSTABLE Doing is activity, and he will still be doing. + +ORLEANS He never did harm, that I heard of. + +CONSTABLE Nor will do none tomorrow. He will keep +that good name still. + +ORLEANS I know him to be valiant. + +CONSTABLE I was told that by one that knows him +better than you. + +ORLEANS What's he? + +CONSTABLE Marry, he told me so himself, and he said +he cared not who knew it. + +ORLEANS He needs not. It is no hidden virtue in him. + +CONSTABLE By my faith, sir, but it is; never anybody +saw it but his lackey. 'Tis a hooded valor, and when +it appears, it will bate. + +ORLEANS Ill will never said well. + +CONSTABLE I will cap that proverb with "There is +flattery in friendship." + +ORLEANS And I will take up that with "Give the devil +his due." + +CONSTABLE Well placed; there stands your friend for +the devil. Have at the very eye of that proverb with +"A pox of the devil." + +ORLEANS You are the better at proverbs, by how much +"A fool's bolt is soon shot." + +CONSTABLE You have shot over. + +ORLEANS 'Tis not the first time you were overshot. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER My Lord High Constable, the English lie +within fifteen hundred paces of your tents. + +CONSTABLE Who hath measured the ground? + +MESSENGER The Lord Grandpre. + +CONSTABLE A valiant and most expert gentleman.-- +Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! He +longs not for the dawning as we do. + +ORLEANS What a wretched and peevish fellow is this +King of England to mope with his fat-brained +followers so far out of his knowledge. + +CONSTABLE If the English had any apprehension, they +would run away. + +ORLEANS That they lack; for if their heads had any +intellectual armor, they could never wear such +heavy headpieces. + +RAMBURES That island of England breeds very valiant +creatures. Their mastiffs are of unmatchable +courage. + +ORLEANS Foolish curs, that run winking into the +mouth of a Russian bear and have their heads +crushed like rotten apples. You may as well say +that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the +lip of a lion. + +CONSTABLE Just, just; and the men do sympathize with +the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, +leaving their wits with their wives. And then give +them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they +will eat like wolves and fight like devils. + +ORLEANS Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of +beef. + +CONSTABLE Then shall we find tomorrow they have +only stomachs to eat and none to fight. Now is it +time to arm. Come, shall we about it? + +ORLEANS +It is now two o'clock. But, let me see, by ten +We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +[Enter Chorus.] + + +CHORUS +Now entertain conjecture of a time +When creeping murmur and the poring dark +Fills the wide vessel of the universe. +From camp to camp, through the foul womb of +night, +The hum of either army stilly sounds, +That the fixed sentinels almost receive +The secret whispers of each other's watch. +Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames +Each battle sees the other's umbered face; +Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neighs +Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents +The armorers, accomplishing the knights, +With busy hammers closing rivets up, +Give dreadful note of preparation. +The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll, +And, the third hour of drowsy morning named, +Proud of their numbers and secure in soul, +The confident and overlusty French +Do the low-rated English play at dice +And chide the cripple, tardy-gaited night, +Who like a foul and ugly witch doth limp +So tediously away. The poor condemned English, +Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires +Sit patiently and inly ruminate +The morning's danger; and their gesture sad, +Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats, +Presenteth them unto the gazing moon +So many horrid ghosts. O now, who will behold +The royal captain of this ruined band +Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent, +Let him cry, "Praise and glory on his head!" +For forth he goes and visits all his host, +Bids them good morrow with a modest smile, +And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen. +Upon his royal face there is no note +How dread an army hath enrounded him, +Nor doth he dedicate one jot of color +Unto the weary and all-watched night, +But freshly looks and overbears attaint +With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty, +That every wretch, pining and pale before, +Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks. +A largesse universal, like the sun, +His liberal eye doth give to everyone, +Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all +Behold, as may unworthiness define, +A little touch of Harry in the night. +And so our scene must to the battle fly, +Where, O for pity, we shall much disgrace, +With four or five most vile and ragged foils +Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous, +The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see, +Minding true things by what their mock'ries be. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the King of England, Bedford, and Gloucester.] + + +KING HENRY +Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger. +The greater therefore should our courage be.-- +Good morrow, brother Bedford. God almighty, +There is some soul of goodness in things evil, +Would men observingly distill it out. +For our bad neighbor makes us early stirrers, +Which is both healthful and good husbandry. +Besides, they are our outward consciences +And preachers to us all, admonishing +That we should dress us fairly for our end. +Thus may we gather honey from the weed +And make a moral of the devil himself. + +[Enter Erpingham.] + +Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham. +A good soft pillow for that good white head +Were better than a churlish turf of France. + +ERPINGHAM +Not so, my liege, this lodging likes me better, +Since I may say "Now lie I like a king." + +KING HENRY +'Tis good for men to love their present pains +Upon example. So the spirit is eased; +And when the mind is quickened, out of doubt, +The organs, though defunct and dead before, +Break up their drowsy grave and newly move +With casted slough and fresh legerity. +Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. +[He puts on Erpingham's cloak.] +Brothers both, +Commend me to the princes in our camp, +Do my good morrow to them, and anon +Desire them all to my pavilion. + +GLOUCESTER We shall, my liege. + +ERPINGHAM Shall I attend your Grace? + +KING HENRY No, my good knight. +Go with my brothers to my lords of England. +I and my bosom must debate awhile, +And then I would no other company. + +ERPINGHAM +The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry. +[All but the King exit.] + +KING HENRY +God-a-mercy, old heart, thou speak'st cheerfully. + +[Enter Pistol.] + + +PISTOL Qui vous la? + +KING HENRY A friend. + +PISTOL Discuss unto me: art thou officer or art thou +base, common, and popular? + +KING HENRY I am a gentleman of a company. + +PISTOL Trail'st thou the puissant pike? + +KING HENRY Even so. What are you? + +PISTOL As good a gentleman as the Emperor. + +KING HENRY Then you are a better than the King. + +PISTOL The King's a bawcock and a heart of gold, a lad +of life, an imp of fame, of parents good, of fist most +valiant. I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heartstring I +love the lovely bully. What is thy name? + +KING HENRY Harry le Roy. + +PISTOL Le Roy? A Cornish name. Art thou of Cornish +crew? + +KING HENRY No, I am a Welshman. + +PISTOL Know'st thou Fluellen? + +KING HENRY Yes. + +PISTOL Tell him I'll knock his leek about his pate upon +Saint Davy's day. + +KING HENRY Do not you wear your dagger in your cap +that day, lest he knock that about yours. + +PISTOL Art thou his friend? + +KING HENRY And his kinsman too. + +PISTOL The figo for thee then! + +KING HENRY I thank you. God be with you. + +PISTOL My name is Pistol called. [He exits.] + +KING HENRY It sorts well with your fierceness. +[He steps aside.] + +[Enter Fluellen and Gower.] + + +GOWER Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN ’So. In the name of Jesu Christ, speak fewer. +It is the greatest admiration in the universal world +when the true and aunchient prerogatifes and +laws of the wars is not kept. If you would take the +pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the +Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is +no tiddle taddle nor pibble babble in Pompey's +camp. I warrant you, you shall find the ceremonies +of the wars and the cares of it and the forms +of it and the sobriety of it and the modesty of it to +be otherwise. + +GOWER Why, the enemy is loud. You hear him all +night. + +FLUELLEN If the enemy is an ass and a fool and a prating +coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, +look you, be an ass and a fool and a prating +coxcomb, in your own conscience now? + +GOWER I will speak lower. + +FLUELLEN I pray you and beseech you that you will. +[Gower and Fluellen exit.] + +KING HENRY +Though it appear a little out of fashion, +There is much care and valor in this Welshman. + +[Enter three Soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and +Michael Williams.] + + +COURT Brother John Bates, is not that the morning +which breaks yonder? + +BATES I think it be, but we have no great cause to desire +the approach of day. + +WILLIAMS We see yonder the beginning of the day, but +I think we shall never see the end of it.--Who goes +there? + +KING HENRY A friend. + +WILLIAMS Under what captain serve you? + +KING HENRY Under Sir Thomas Erpingham. + +WILLIAMS A good old commander and a most kind +gentleman. I pray you, what thinks he of our +estate? + +KING HENRY Even as men wracked upon a sand, that +look to be washed off the next tide. + +BATES He hath not told his thought to the King? + +KING HENRY No. Nor it is not meet he should, for, +though I speak it to you, I think the King is but a +man as I am. The violet smells to him as it doth to +me. The element shows to him as it doth to me. All +his senses have but human conditions. His ceremonies +laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man, +and though his affections are higher mounted than +ours, yet when they stoop, they stoop with the like +wing. Therefore, when he sees reason of fears as we +do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as +ours are. Yet, in reason, no man should possess him +with any appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, +should dishearten his army. + +BATES He may show what outward courage he will, +but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish +himself in Thames up to the neck; and so I would +he were, and I by him, at all adventures, so we were +quit here. + +KING HENRY By my troth, I will speak my conscience +of the King. I think he would not wish himself +anywhere but where he is. + +BATES Then I would he were here alone; so should he +be sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's +lives saved. + +KING HENRY I dare say you love him not so ill to wish +him here alone, howsoever you speak this to feel +other men's minds. Methinks I could not die anywhere +so contented as in the King's company, his +cause being just and his quarrel honorable. + +WILLIAMS That's more than we know. + +BATES Ay, or more than we should seek after, for we +know enough if we know we are the King's subjects. +If his cause be wrong, our obedience to the +King wipes the crime of it out of us. + +WILLIAMS But if the cause be not good, the King +himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all +those legs and arms and heads, chopped off in a +battle, shall join together at the latter day, and cry +all "We died at such a place," some swearing, some +crying for a surgeon, some upon their wives left +poor behind them, some upon the debts they owe, +some upon their children rawly left. I am afeard +there are few die well that die in a battle, for how +can they charitably dispose of anything when blood +is their argument? Now, if these men do not die +well, it will be a black matter for the king that led +them to it, who to disobey were against all proportion +of subjection. + +KING HENRY So, if a son that is by his father sent about +merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, +the imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, +should be imposed upon his father that sent him. +Or if a servant, under his master's command transporting +a sum of money, be assailed by robbers and +die in many irreconciled iniquities, you may call the +business of the master the author of the servant's +damnation. But this is not so. The King is not bound +to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the +father of his son, nor the master of his servant, for +they purpose not their death when they purpose +their services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause +never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrament of +swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers. +Some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of +premeditated and contrived murder; some, of beguiling +virgins with the broken seals of perjury; +some, making the wars their bulwark, that have +before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage +and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the +law and outrun native punishment, though they can +outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God. +War is His beadle, war is His vengeance, so that here +men are punished for before-breach of the King's +laws in now the King's quarrel. Where they feared +the death, they have borne life away; and where they +would be safe, they perish. Then, if they die unprovided, +no more is the King guilty of their damnation +than he was before guilty of those impieties for the +which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is +the King's, but every subject's soul is his own. +Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as +every sick man in his bed: wash every mote out of +his conscience. And, dying so, death is to him +advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost +wherein such preparation was gained. And in him +that escapes, it were not sin to think that, making +God so free an offer, He let him outlive that day to +see His greatness and to teach others how they +should prepare. + +WILLIAMS 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill +upon his own head; the King is not to answer it. + +BATES I do not desire he should answer for me, and yet +I determine to fight lustily for him. + +KING HENRY I myself heard the King say he would not +be ransomed. + +WILLIAMS Ay, he said so to make us fight cheerfully, +but when our throats are cut, he may be ransomed +and we ne'er the wiser. + +KING HENRY If I live to see it, I will never trust his +word after. + +WILLIAMS You pay him then. That's a perilous shot out +of an elder gun, that a poor and a private displeasure +can do against a monarch. You may as well go +about to turn the sun to ice with fanning in his face +with a peacock's feather. You'll "never trust his +word after." Come, 'tis a foolish saying. + +KING HENRY Your reproof is something too round. I +should be angry with you if the time were +convenient. + +WILLIAMS Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live. + +KING HENRY I embrace it. + +WILLIAMS How shall I know thee again? + +KING HENRY Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear +it in my bonnet. Then, if ever thou dar'st acknowledge +it, I will make it my quarrel. + +WILLIAMS Here's my glove. Give me another of thine. + +KING HENRY There. [They exchange gloves.] + +WILLIAMS This will I also wear in my cap. If ever thou +come to me and say, after tomorrow, "This is my +glove," by this hand I will take thee a box on the +ear. + +KING HENRY If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it. + +WILLIAMS Thou dar'st as well be hanged. + +KING HENRY Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the +King's company. + +WILLIAMS Keep thy word. Fare thee well. + +BATES Be friends, you English fools, be friends. We +have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how +to reckon. + +KING HENRY Indeed, the French may lay twenty +French crowns to one they will beat us, for they +bear them on their shoulders. But it is no English +treason to cut French crowns, and tomorrow the +King himself will be a clipper. +[Soldiers exit.] +Upon the King! Let us our lives, our souls, our +debts, our careful wives, our children, and our sins, +lay on the King! +We must bear all. O hard condition, +Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath +Of every fool whose sense no more can feel +But his own wringing. What infinite heart's ease +Must kings neglect that private men enjoy? +And what have kings that privates have not too, +Save ceremony, save general ceremony? +And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? +What kind of god art thou that suffer'st more +Of mortal griefs than do thy worshipers? +What are thy rents? What are thy comings-in? +O ceremony, show me but thy worth! +What is thy soul of adoration? +Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, +Creating awe and fear in other men, +Wherein thou art less happy, being feared, +Than they in fearing? +What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, +But poisoned flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, +And bid thy ceremony give thee cure! +Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out +With titles blown from adulation? +Will it give place to flexure and low bending? +Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's +knee, +Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream, +That play'st so subtly with a king's repose. +I am a king that find thee, and I know +'Tis not the balm, the scepter, and the ball, +The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, +The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, +The farced title running 'fore the King, +The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp +That beats upon the high shore of this world; +No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony, +Not all these, laid in bed majestical, +Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave +Who, with a body filled and vacant mind, +Gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread; +Never sees horrid night, the child of hell, +But, like a lackey, from the rise to set +Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night +Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn +Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse, +And follows so the ever-running year +With profitable labor to his grave. +And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, +Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, +Had the forehand and vantage of a king. +The slave, a member of the country's peace, +Enjoys it, but in gross brain little wots +What watch the King keeps to maintain the peace, +Whose hours the peasant best advantages. + +[Enter Erpingham.] + + +ERPINGHAM +My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence, +Seek through your camp to find you. + +KING HENRY Good old knight, +Collect them all together at my tent. +I'll be before thee. + +ERPINGHAM I shall do 't, my lord. [He exits.] + +KING HENRY +O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts. +Possess them not with fear. Take from them now +The sense of reck'ning or th' opposed numbers +Pluck their hearts from them. Not today, O Lord, +O, not today, think not upon the fault +My father made in compassing the crown. +I Richard's body have interred new +And on it have bestowed more contrite tears +Than from it issued forced drops of blood. +Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay +Who twice a day their withered hands hold up +Toward heaven to pardon blood. And I have built +Two chantries where the sad and solemn priests +Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do-- +Though all that I can do is nothing worth, +Since that my penitence comes after all, +Imploring pardon. + +[Enter Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER My liege. + +KING HENRY My brother Gloucester's voice.--Ay, +I know thy errand. I will go with thee. +The day, my friends, and all things stay for me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Dauphin, Orleans, Rambures, and Beaumont.] + + +ORLEANS +The sun doth gild our armor. Up, my lords. + +DAUPHIN +Montez a cheval! My horse, varlet! Lackey! Ha! + +ORLEANS O brave spirit! + +DAUPHIN Via les eaux et terre. + +ORLEANS Rien puis? L'air et feu? + +DAUPHIN Cieux, cousin Orleans. + +[Enter Constable.] + +Now, my Lord Constable? + +CONSTABLE +Hark how our steeds for present service neigh. + +DAUPHIN +Mount them, and make incision in their hides, +That their hot blood may spin in English eyes +And dout them with superfluous courage. Ha! + +RAMBURES +What, will you have them weep our horses' blood? +How shall we then behold their natural tears? + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +The English are embattled, you French peers. + +CONSTABLE +To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse. +Do but behold yond poor and starved band, +And your fair show shall suck away their souls, +Leaving them but the shales and husks of men. +There is not work enough for all our hands, +Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins +To give each naked curtal ax a stain, +That our French gallants shall today draw out +And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on +them, +The vapor of our valor will o'erturn them. +'Tis positive against all exceptions, lords, +That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants, +Who in unnecessary action swarm +About our squares of battle, were enough +To purge this field of such a hilding foe, +Though we upon this mountain's basis by +Took stand for idle speculation, +But that our honors must not. What's to say? +A very little little let us do, +And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound +The tucket sonance and the note to mount, +For our approach shall so much dare the field +That England shall couch down in fear and yield. + +[Enter Grandpre.] + + +GRANDPRE +Why do you stay so long, my lords of France? +Yond island carrions, desperate of their bones, +Ill-favoredly become the morning field. +Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose, +And our air shakes them passing scornfully. +Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggared host +And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps. +The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks +With torch staves in their hand, and their poor jades +Lob down their heads, drooping the hides and hips, +The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes, +And in their pale dull mouths the gemeled bit +Lies foul with chawed grass, still and motionless. +And their executors, the knavish crows, +Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour. +Description cannot suit itself in words +To demonstrate the life of such a battle +In life so lifeless, as it shows itself. + +CONSTABLE +They have said their prayers, and they stay for death. + +DAUPHIN +Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits, +And give their fasting horses provender, +And after fight with them? + +CONSTABLE +I stay but for my guard. On, to the field! +I will the banner from a trumpet take +And use it for my haste. Come, come away. +The sun is high, and we outwear the day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham with all +his host, Salisbury, and Westmoreland.] + + +GLOUCESTER Where is the King? + +BEDFORD +The King himself is rode to view their battle. + +WESTMORELAND +Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand. + +EXETER +There's five to one. Besides, they all are fresh. + +SALISBURY +God's arm strike with us! 'Tis a fearful odds. +God be wi' you, princes all. I'll to my charge. +If we no more meet till we meet in heaven, +Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, +My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, +And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu. + +BEDFORD +Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with +thee. +And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, +For thou art framed of the firm truth of valor. + +EXETER +Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today. +[Salisbury exits.] + +BEDFORD +He is as full of valor as of kindness, +Princely in both. + +[Enter the King of England.] + + +WESTMORELAND O, that we now had here +But one ten thousand of those men in England +That do no work today. + +KING HENRY What's he that wishes so? +My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin. +If we are marked to die, we are enough +To do our country loss; and if to live, +The fewer men, the greater share of honor. +God's will, I pray thee wish not one man more. +By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, +Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; +It yearns me not if men my garments wear; +Such outward things dwell not in my desires. +But if it be a sin to covet honor, +I am the most offending soul alive. +No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. +God's peace, I would not lose so great an honor +As one man more, methinks, would share from me, +For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! +Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, +That he which hath no stomach to this fight, +Let him depart. His passport shall be made, +And crowns for convoy put into his purse. +We would not die in that man's company +That fears his fellowship to die with us. +This day is called the feast of Crispian. +He that outlives this day and comes safe home +Will stand o' tiptoe when this day is named +And rouse him at the name of Crispian. +He that shall see this day, and live old age, +Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors +And say "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian." +Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars. +Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, +But he'll remember with advantages +What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, +Familiar in his mouth as household words, +Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, +Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, +Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. +This story shall the good man teach his son, +And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, +From this day to the ending of the world, +But we in it shall be remembered-- +We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; +For he today that sheds his blood with me +Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, +This day shall gentle his condition; +And gentlemen in England now abed +Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, +And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks +That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. + +[Enter Salisbury.] + + +SALISBURY +My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed. +The French are bravely in their battles set, +And will with all expedience charge on us. + +KING HENRY +All things are ready if our minds be so. + +WESTMORELAND +Perish the man whose mind is backward now! + +KING HENRY +Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz? + +WESTMORELAND +God's will, my liege, would you and I alone, +Without more help, could fight this royal battle! + +KING HENRY +Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men, +Which likes me better than to wish us one.-- +You know your places. God be with you all. + +[Tucket. Enter Montjoy.] + + +MONTJOY +Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry, +If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, +Before thy most assured overthrow. +For certainly thou art so near the gulf +Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy, +The Constable desires thee thou wilt mind +Thy followers of repentance, that their souls +May make a peaceful and a sweet retire +From off these fields where, wretches, their poor +bodies +Must lie and fester. + +KING HENRY Who hath sent thee now? + +MONTJOY The Constable of France. + +KING HENRY +I pray thee bear my former answer back. +Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones. +Good God, why should they mock poor fellows +thus? +The man that once did sell the lion's skin +While the beast lived was killed with hunting him. +A many of our bodies shall no doubt +Find native graves, upon the which, I trust, +Shall witness live in brass of this day's work. +And those that leave their valiant bones in France, +Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills, +They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet +them +And draw their honors reeking up to heaven, +Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime, +The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France. +Mark, then, abounding valor in our English, +That being dead, like to the bullet's crazing, +Break out into a second course of mischief, +Killing in relapse of mortality. +Let me speak proudly: tell the Constable +We are but warriors for the working day; +Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched +With rainy marching in the painful field. +There's not a piece of feather in our host-- +Good argument, I hope, we will not fly-- +And time hath worn us into slovenry. +But, by the Mass, our hearts are in the trim, +And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night +They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck +The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads +And turn them out of service. If they do this, +As, if God please, they shall, my ransom then +Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labor. +Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald. +They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints, +Which, if they have, as I will leave 'em them, +Shall yield them little, tell the Constable. + +MONTJOY +I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well. +Thou never shalt hear herald anymore. + +KING HENRY I fear thou wilt once more come again +for a ransom. [Montjoy exits.] +[Enter York. +] + +YORK, [kneeling] +My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg +The leading of the vaward. + +KING HENRY +Take it, brave York. [York rises.] +Now, soldiers, march away, +And how Thou pleasest, God, dispose the day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistol, French Soldier, +and Boy.] + + +PISTOL Yield, cur. + +FRENCH SOLDIER Je pense que vous etes le gentilhomme +de bonne qualite. + +PISTOL Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a gentleman? +What is thy name? Discuss. + +FRENCH SOLDIER O Seigneur Dieu! + +PISTOL O, Seigneur Dew should be a gentleman. Perpend +my words, O Seigneur Dew, and mark: O +Seigneur Dew, thou diest on point of fox, except, O +Seigneur, thou do give to me egregious ransom. + +FRENCH SOLDIER O, prenez misericorde! Ayez pitie de +moi! + +PISTOL Moy shall not serve. I will have forty moys, or +I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat in drops of +crimson blood. + +FRENCH SOLDIER Est-il impossible d'echapper la force +de ton bras? + +PISTOL Brass, cur? Thou damned and luxurious +mountain goat, offer'st me brass? + +FRENCH SOLDIER O, pardonnez-moi! + +PISTOL Say'st thou me so? Is that a ton of moys?-- +Come hither, boy. Ask me this slave in French what +is his name. + +BOY Ecoutez. Comment etes-vous appele? + +FRENCH SOLDIER Monsieur le Fer. + +BOY He says his name is Master Fer. + +PISTOL Master Fer. I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret +him. Discuss the same in French unto him. + +BOY I do not know the French for "fer," and "ferret," +and "firk." + +PISTOL Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat. + +FRENCH SOLDIER, [to the Boy] Que dit-il, monsieur? + +BOY Il me commande a vous dire que vous faites vous +pret, car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette heure de +couper votre gorge. + +PISTOL Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy, peasant, unless +thou give me crowns, brave crowns, or mangled +shalt thou be by this my sword. + +FRENCH SOLDIER O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de +Dieu, me pardonner. Je suis le gentilhomme de bonne +maison. Gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux +cents ecus. + +PISTOL What are his words? + +BOY He prays you to save his life. He is a gentleman of a +good house, and for his ransom he will give you two +hundred crowns. + +PISTOL Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the crowns +will take. + +FRENCH SOLDIER, [to the Boy] Petit monsieur, que dit-il? + +BOY Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner +aucun prisonnier; neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous +lui avez promis, il est content a vous donner la liberte, +le franchisement. +[French soldier kneels.] + +FRENCH SOLDIER Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille +remerciments, et je m'estime heureux que j'ai tombe +entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave, +vaillant, et tres distingue seigneur d'Angleterre. + +PISTOL Expound unto me, boy. + +BOY He gives you upon his knees a thousand thanks, +and he esteems himself happy that he hath fall'n +into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most +brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy seigneur of +England. + +PISTOL As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. +Follow me. + +BOY Suivez-vous le grand capitaine. +[The French Soldier stands up. He and Pistol exit.] +I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty +a heart. But the saying is true: "The empty vessel +makes the greatest sound." Bardolph and Nym had +ten times more valor than this roaring devil i' th' old +play, that everyone may pare his nails with a wooden +dagger, and they are both hanged, and so would +this be if he durst steal anything adventurously. I +must stay with the lackeys with the luggage of our +camp. The French might have a good prey of us if he +knew of it, for there is none to guard it but boys. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Constable, Orleans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and +Rambures.] + + +CONSTABLE O diable! + +ORLEANS +O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu! + +DAUPHIN +Mort de ma vie, all is confounded, all! +Reproach and everlasting shame +Sits mocking in our plumes. [A short Alarum.] +O mechante Fortune! +Do not run away. + +CONSTABLE Why, all our ranks are broke. + +DAUPHIN +O perdurable shame! Let's stab ourselves. +Be these the wretches that we played at dice for? + +ORLEANS +Is this the king we sent to for his ransom? + +BOURBON +Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame! +Let us die. In once more! Back again! +And he that will not follow Bourbon now, +Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand +Like a base pander hold the chamber door, +Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog, +His fairest daughter is contaminate. + +CONSTABLE +Disorder, that hath spoiled us, friend us now. +Let us on heaps go offer up our lives. + +ORLEANS +We are enough yet living in the field +To smother up the English in our throngs, +If any order might be thought upon. + +BOURBON +The devil take order now! I'll to the throng. +Let life be short, else shame will be too long. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Alarum. Enter the King of England and his train, +with prisoners.] + + +KING HENRY +Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen, +But all's not done. Yet keep the French the field. + +[Enter Exeter.] + + +EXETER +The Duke of York commends him to your Majesty. + +KING HENRY +Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour +I saw him down, thrice up again and fighting. +From helmet to the spur, all blood he was. + +EXETER +In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie, +Larding the plain, and by his bloody side, +Yoke-fellow to his honor-owing wounds, +The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies. +Suffolk first died, and York, all haggled over, +Comes to him where in gore he lay insteeped, +And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes +That bloodily did yawn upon his face. +He cries aloud "Tarry, my cousin Suffolk. +My soul shall thine keep company to heaven. +Tarry, sweet soul, for mine; then fly abreast, +As in this glorious and well-foughten field +We kept together in our chivalry." +Upon these words I came and cheered him up. +He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand, +And with a feeble grip, says "Dear my lord, +Commend my service to my sovereign." +So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck +He threw his wounded arm and kissed his lips, +And so, espoused to death, with blood he sealed +A testament of noble-ending love. +The pretty and sweet manner of it forced +Those waters from me which I would have stopped, +But I had not so much of man in me, +And all my mother came into mine eyes +And gave me up to tears. + +KING HENRY I blame you not, +For, hearing this, I must perforce compound +With my full eyes, or they will issue too. [Alarum.] +But hark, what new alarum is this same? +The French have reinforced their scattered men. +Then every soldier kill his prisoners. +Give the word through. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Fluellen and Gower.] + + +FLUELLEN Kill the poys and the luggage! 'Tis expressly +against the law of arms. 'Tis as arrant a piece of +knavery, mark you now, as can be offert, in your +conscience now, is it not? + +GOWER 'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive, and +the cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha' +done this slaughter. Besides, they have burned +and carried away all that was in the King's tent, +wherefore the King, most worthily, hath caused +every soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a +gallant king! + +FLUELLEN Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain +Gower. What call you the town's name where +Alexander the Pig was born? + +GOWER Alexander the Great. + +FLUELLEN Why, I pray you, is not "pig" great? The pig, +or the great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the +magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the +phrase is a little variations. + +GOWER I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon. +His father was called Philip of Macedon, as I +take it. + +FLUELLEN I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is +porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of +the 'orld, I warrant you sall find, in the comparisons +between Macedon and Monmouth, that the +situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in +Macedon, and there is also, moreover, a river at +Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is +out of my prains what is the name of the other river. +But 'tis all one; 'tis alike as my fingers is to my +fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark +Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life is +come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in +all things. Alexander, God knows and you know, in +his rages and his furies and his wraths and his +cholers and his moods and his displeasures and his +indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in +his prains, did, in his ales and his angers, look you, +kill his best friend, Cleitus. + +GOWER Our king is not like him in that. He never +killed any of his friends. + +FLUELLEN It is not well done, mark you now, to take +the tales out of my mouth ere it is made and +finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons +of it. As Alexander killed his friend Cleitus, being in +his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth, +being in his right wits and his good judgments, +turned away the fat knight with the great-belly +doublet; he was full of jests and gipes and knaveries +and mocks--I have forgot his name. + +GOWER Sir John Falstaff. + +FLUELLEN That is he. I'll tell you, there is good men +porn at Monmouth. + +GOWER Here comes his Majesty. + +[Alarum. Enter King Harry, Exeter, Warwick, Gloucester, +Heralds and Bourbon with other prisoners. Flourish.] + + +KING HENRY +I was not angry since I came to France +Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald. +Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill. +If they will fight with us, bid them come down, +Or void the field. They do offend our sight. +If they'll do neither, we will come to them +And make them skirr away as swift as stones +Enforced from the old Assyrian slings. +Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have, +And not a man of them that we shall take +Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so. + +[Enter Montjoy.] + + +EXETER +Here comes the herald of the French, my liege. + +GLOUCESTER +His eyes are humbler than they used to be. + +KING HENRY +How now, what means this, herald? Know'st thou +not +That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom? +Com'st thou again for ransom? + +MONTJOY No, great king. +I come to thee for charitable license, +That we may wander o'er this bloody field +To book our dead and then to bury them, +To sort our nobles from our common men, +For many of our princes--woe the while!-- +Lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood. +So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs +In blood of princes, and the wounded steeds +Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage +Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters, +Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king, +To view the field in safety and dispose +Of their dead bodies. + +KING HENRY I tell thee truly, herald, +I know not if the day be ours or no, +For yet a many of your horsemen peer +And gallop o'er the field. + +MONTJOY The day is yours. + +KING HENRY +Praised be God, and not our strength, for it! +What is this castle called that stands hard by? + +MONTJOY They call it Agincourt. + +KING HENRY +Then call we this the field of Agincourt, +Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus. + +FLUELLEN Your grandfather of famous memory, an 't +please your Majesty, and your great-uncle Edward +the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the +chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in +France. + +KING HENRY They did, Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN Your Majesty says very true. If your Majesties +is remembered of it, the Welshmen did good +service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing +leeks in their Monmouth caps, which, your Majesty +know, to this hour is an honorable badge of the +service. And I do believe your Majesty takes no +scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy's day. + +KING HENRY +I wear it for a memorable honor, +For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman. + +FLUELLEN All the water in Wye cannot wash your +Majesty's Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell +you that. God pless it and preserve it as long as it +pleases his Grace and his Majesty too. + +KING HENRY Thanks, good my countryman. + +FLUELLEN By Jeshu, I am your Majesty's countryman, +I care not who know it. I will confess it to all the +'orld. I need not to be ashamed of your Majesty, +praised be God, so long as your Majesty is an +honest man. + +KING HENRY +God keep me so.--Our heralds, go with him. +Bring me just notice of the numbers dead +On both our parts. +[Montjoy, English Heralds, and Gower exit.] + +[Enter Williams.] + +Call yonder fellow hither. + +EXETER Soldier, you must come to the King. + +KING HENRY Soldier, why wear'st thou that glove in thy +cap? + +WILLIAMS An 't please your Majesty, 'tis the gage of +one that I should fight withal, if he be alive. + +KING HENRY An Englishman? + +WILLIAMS An 't please your Majesty, a rascal that +swaggered with me last night, who, if alive and ever +dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take +him a box o' th' ear, or if I can see my glove in his +cap, which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would +wear if alive, I will strike it out soundly. + +KING HENRY What think you, Captain Fluellen, is it fit +this soldier keep his oath? + +FLUELLEN He is a craven and a villain else, an 't +please your Majesty, in my conscience. + +KING HENRY It may be his enemy is a gentleman of +great sort, quite from the answer of his degree. + +FLUELLEN Though he be as good a gentleman as the +devil is, as Lucifer and Beelzebub himself, it is +necessary, look your Grace, that he keep his vow +and his oath. If he be perjured, see you now, his +reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jack Sauce as +ever his black shoe trod upon God's ground and His +earth, in my conscience, la. + +KING HENRY Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou +meet'st the fellow. + +WILLIAMS So I will, my liege, as I live. + +KING HENRY Who serv'st thou under? + +WILLIAMS Under Captain Gower, my liege. + +FLUELLEN Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge +and literatured in the wars. + +KING HENRY Call him hither to me, soldier. + +WILLIAMS I will, my liege. [He exits.] + +KING HENRY, [giving Fluellen Williams's glove] Here, +Fluellen, wear thou this favor for me, and stick it in +thy cap. When Alencon and myself were down +together, I plucked this glove from his helm. If any +man challenge this, he is a friend to Alencon and an +enemy to our person. If thou encounter any such, +apprehend him, an thou dost me love. + +FLUELLEN, [putting the glove in his cap] Your Grace +does me as great honors as can be desired in the +hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that +has but two legs that shall find himself aggriefed at +this glove, that is all; but I would fain see it once, an +please God of His grace that I might see. + +KING HENRY Know'st thou Gower? + +FLUELLEN He is my dear friend, an please you. + +KING HENRY Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to +my tent. + +FLUELLEN I will fetch him. [He exits.] + +KING HENRY +My Lord of Warwick and my brother Gloucester, +Follow Fluellen closely at the heels. +The glove which I have given him for a favor +May haply purchase him a box o' th' ear. +It is the soldier's. I by bargain should +Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick. +If that the soldier strike him, as I judge +By his blunt bearing he will keep his word, +Some sudden mischief may arise of it, +For I do know Fluellen valiant +And, touched with choler, hot as gunpowder, +And quickly will return an injury. +Follow, and see there be no harm between them.-- +Go you with me, uncle of Exeter. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Enter Gower and Williams.] + + +WILLIAMS I warrant it is to knight you, captain. + +[Enter Fluellen, wearing Williams's glove.] + + +FLUELLEN, [to Gower] God's will and His pleasure, +captain, I beseech you now, come apace to the +King. There is more good toward you peradventure +than is in your knowledge to dream of. + +WILLIAMS, [to Fluellen, pointing to the glove in his own +hat] Sir, know you this glove? + +FLUELLEN Know the glove? I know the glove is a glove. + +WILLIAMS I know this, and thus I challenge it. +[Strikes him.] + +FLUELLEN 'Sblood, an arrant traitor as any 's in the +universal world, or in France, or in England! + +GOWER, [to Williams] How now, sir? You villain! + +WILLIAMS Do you think I'll be forsworn? + +FLUELLEN Stand away, Captain Gower. I will give treason +his payment into plows, I warrant you. + +WILLIAMS I am no traitor. + +FLUELLEN That's a lie in thy throat.--I charge you in +his Majesty's name, apprehend him. He's a friend +of the Duke Alencon's. + +[Enter Warwick and Gloucester.] + + +WARWICK How now, how now, what's the matter? + +FLUELLEN My Lord of Warwick, here is, praised be +God for it, a most contagious treason come to +light, look you, as you shall desire in a summer's +day. + +[Enter King of England and Exeter.] + +Here is his Majesty. + +KING HENRY How now, what's the matter? + +FLUELLEN My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that, +look your Grace, has struck the glove which your +Majesty is take out of the helmet of Alencon. + +WILLIAMS My liege, this was my glove; here is the fellow +of it. And he that I gave it to in change promised to +wear it in his cap. I promised to strike him if he did. +I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I have +been as good as my word. + +FLUELLEN Your Majesty, hear now, saving your Majesty's +manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, +lousy knave it is. I hope your Majesty is pear me +testimony and witness and will avouchment that +this is the glove of Alencon that your Majesty is give +me, in your conscience now. + +KING HENRY, [to Williams] Give me thy glove, soldier. +Look, here is the fellow of it. +'Twas I indeed thou promised'st to strike, +And thou hast given me most bitter terms. + +FLUELLEN An please your Majesty, let his neck answer +for it, if there is any martial law in the world. + +KING HENRY, [to Williams] How canst thou make me +satisfaction? + +WILLIAMS All offenses, my lord, come from the heart. +Never came any from mine that might offend your +Majesty. + +KING HENRY It was ourself thou didst abuse. + +WILLIAMS Your Majesty came not like yourself. You +appeared to me but as a common man; witness the +night, your garments, your lowliness. And what +your Highness suffered under that shape, I beseech +you take it for your own fault and not mine, for, had +you been as I took you for, I made no offense. +Therefore, I beseech your Highness pardon me. + +KING HENRY +Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns +And give it to this fellow.--Keep it, fellow, +And wear it for an honor in thy cap +Till I do challenge it.--Give him the crowns.-- +And, captain, you must needs be friends with him. + +FLUELLEN By this day and this light, the fellow has +mettle enough in his belly.--Hold, there is twelvepence +for you, and I pray you to serve God and keep +you out of prawls and prabbles and quarrels and +dissensions, and I warrant you it is the better for +you. + +WILLIAMS I will none of your money. + +FLUELLEN It is with a good will. I can tell you it will +serve you to mend your shoes. Come, wherefore +should you be so pashful? Your shoes is not so +good. 'Tis a good silling, I warrant you, or I will +change it. + +[Enter an English Herald.] + + +KING HENRY Now, herald, are the dead numbered? + +HERALD, [giving the King a paper] +Here is the number of the slaughtered French. + +KING HENRY, [to Exeter] +What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle? + +EXETER +Charles, Duke of Orleans, nephew to the King; +John, Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt. +Of other lords and barons, knights and squires, +Full fifteen hundred, besides common men. + +KING HENRY +This note doth tell me of ten thousand French +That in the field lie slain. Of princes in this number +And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead +One hundred twenty-six. Added to these, +Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen, +Eight thousand and four hundred, of the which +Five hundred were but yesterday dubbed knights. +So that in these ten thousand they have lost, +There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries. +The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires, +And gentlemen of blood and quality. +The names of those their nobles that lie dead: +Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France; +Jacques of Chatillon, Admiral of France; +The Master of the Crossbows, Lord Rambures; +Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard +Dauphin; +John, Duke of Alencon; Anthony, Duke of Brabant, +The brother to the Duke of Burgundy; +And Edward, Duke of Bar. Of lusty earls: +Grandpre and Roussi, Faulconbridge and Foix, +Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale. +Here was a royal fellowship of death. +Where is the number of our English dead? +[Herald gives him another paper.] +Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, +Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire; +None else of name, and of all other men +But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here, +And not to us, but to thy arm alone +Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem, +But in plain shock and even play of battle, +Was ever known so great and little loss +On one part and on th' other? Take it, God, +For it is none but thine. + +EXETER 'Tis wonderful. + +KING HENRY +Come, go we in procession to the village, +And be it death proclaimed through our host +To boast of this or take that praise from God +Which is His only. + +FLUELLEN Is it not lawful, an please your Majesty, to +tell how many is killed? + +KING HENRY +Yes, captain, but with this acknowledgment: +That God fought for us. + +FLUELLEN Yes, my conscience, He did us great good. + +KING HENRY Do we all holy rites. +Let there be sung Non nobis, and Te Deum, +The dead with charity enclosed in clay, +And then to Calais, and to England then, +Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +[Enter Chorus.] + + +CHORUS +Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story +That I may prompt them; and of such as have, +I humbly pray them to admit th' excuse +Of time, of numbers, and due course of things, +Which cannot in their huge and proper life +Be here presented. Now we bear the King +Toward Calais. Grant him there. There seen, +Heave him away upon your winged thoughts +Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach +Pales in the flood with men, wives, and boys, +Whose shouts and claps outvoice the deep-mouthed +sea, +Which, like a mighty whiffler 'fore the King +Seems to prepare his way. So let him land, +And solemnly see him set on to London. +So swift a pace hath thought that even now +You may imagine him upon Blackheath, +Where that his lords desire him to have borne +His bruised helmet and his bended sword +Before him through the city. He forbids it, +Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride, +Giving full trophy, signal, and ostent +Quite from himself, to God. But now behold, +In the quick forge and workinghouse of thought, +How London doth pour out her citizens. +The Mayor and all his brethren in best sort, +Like to the senators of th' antique Rome, +With the plebeians swarming at their heels, +Go forth and fetch their conqu'ring Caesar in-- +As, by a lower but by loving likelihood +Were now the general of our gracious empress, +As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, +Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, +How many would the peaceful city quit +To welcome him! Much more, and much more +cause, +Did they this Harry. Now in London place him +(As yet the lamentation of the French +Invites the King of England's stay at home; +The Emperor's coming in behalf of France +To order peace between them) and omit +All the occurrences, whatever chanced, +Till Harry's back return again to France. +There must we bring him, and myself have played +The interim, by remembering you 'tis past. +Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance +After your thoughts, straight back again to France. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Fluellen and Gower.] + + +GOWER Nay, that's right. But why wear you your leek +today? Saint Davy's day is past. + +FLUELLEN There is occasions and causes why and +wherefore in all things. I will tell you ass my +friend, Captain Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, +lousy, pragging knave Pistol, which you and +yourself and all the world know to be no petter than +a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to +me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look +you, and bid me eat my leek. It was in a place where +I could not breed no contention with him, but I will +be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once +again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my +desires. + +[Enter Pistol.] + + +GOWER Why here he comes, swelling like a +turkey-cock. + +FLUELLEN 'Tis no matter for his swellings, nor his +turkey-cocks.--God pless you, Aunchient Pistol, +you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you. + +PISTOL Ha, art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base +Trojan, to have me fold up Parca's fatal web? Hence. +I am qualmish at the smell of leek. + +FLUELLEN I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, +at my desires and my requests and my petitions, to +eat, look you, this leek. Because, look you, you do +not love it, nor your affections and your appetites +and your disgestions does not agree with it, I would +desire you to eat it. + +PISTOL Not for Cadwallader and all his goats. + +FLUELLEN There is one goat for you. [(Strikes him +with a cudgel.)] Will you be so good, scald knave, +as eat it? + +PISTOL Base Trojan, thou shalt die. + +FLUELLEN You say very true, scald knave, when God's +will is. I will desire you to live in the meantime and +eat your victuals. Come, there is sauce for it. [Strikes +him.] You called me yesterday "mountain squire," +but I will make you today a squire of low degree. I +pray you, fall to. If you can mock a leek, you can eat +a leek. + +GOWER Enough, captain. You have astonished him. + +FLUELLEN I say I will make him eat some part of my +leek, or I will peat his pate four days.--Bite, I pray +you. It is good for your green wound and your +ploody coxcomb. + +PISTOL Must I bite? + +FLUELLEN Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of +question, too, and ambiguities. + +PISTOL By this leek, I will most horribly revenge. +[Fluellen threatens him.] I eat and eat, I swear-- + +FLUELLEN Eat, I pray you. Will you have some more +sauce to your leek? There is not enough leek to +swear by. + +PISTOL Quiet thy cudgel. Thou dost see I eat. + +FLUELLEN Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. +Nay, pray you throw none away. The skin is good for +your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to +see leeks hereafter, I pray you mock at 'em, that is +all. + +PISTOL Good. + +FLUELLEN Ay, leeks is good. Hold you, there is a groat +to heal your pate. + +PISTOL Me, a groat? + +FLUELLEN Yes, verily, and in truth you shall take it, or I +have another leek in my pocket, which you shall +eat. + +PISTOL I take thy groat in earnest of revenge. + +FLUELLEN If I owe you anything, I will pay you in +cudgels. You shall be a woodmonger and buy +nothing of me but cudgels. God be wi' you and +keep you and heal your pate. [He exits.] + +PISTOL All hell shall stir for this. + +GOWER Go, go. You are a counterfeit cowardly knave. +Will you mock at an ancient tradition begun upon +an honorable respect and worn as a memorable +trophy of predeceased valor, and dare not avouch in +your deeds any of your words? I have seen you +gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or +thrice. You thought because he could not speak +English in the native garb, he could not therefore +handle an English cudgel. You find it otherwise, and +henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good +English condition. Fare you well. [He exits.] + +PISTOL Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now? +News have I that my Doll is dead i' th' spital of a +malady of France, and there my rendezvous is quite +cut off. Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs +honor is cudgeled. Well, bawd I'll turn, and something +lean to cutpurse of quick hand. To England +will I steal, and there I'll steal. +And patches will I get unto these cudgeled scars, +And swear I got them in the Gallia wars. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter at one door, King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, +Warwick, Westmoreland, and other Lords. At another, +Queen Isabel of France, the King of France, the +Princess Katherine and Alice, the Duke of Burgundy, +and other French.] + + +KING HENRY +Peace to this meeting wherefor we are met. +Unto our brother France and to our sister, +Health and fair time of day.--Joy and good wishes +To our most fair and princely cousin Katherine.-- +And, as a branch and member of this royalty, +By whom this great assembly is contrived, +We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy.-- +And princes French, and peers, health to you all. + +KING OF FRANCE +Right joyous are we to behold your face, +Most worthy brother England. Fairly met.-- +So are you, princes English, every one. + +QUEEN OF FRANCE +So happy be the issue, brother Ireland, +Of this good day and of this gracious meeting, +As we are now glad to behold your eyes-- +Your eyes which hitherto have borne in them +Against the French that met them in their bent +The fatal balls of murdering basilisks. +The venom of such looks, we fairly hope, +Have lost their quality, and that this day +Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love. + +KING HENRY +To cry "Amen" to that, thus we appear. + +QUEEN OF FRANCE +You English princes all, I do salute you. + +BURGUNDY +My duty to you both, on equal love, +Great kings of France and England. That I have +labored +With all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavors +To bring your most imperial Majesties +Unto this bar and royal interview, +Your Mightiness on both parts best can witness. +Since, then, my office hath so far prevailed +That face to face and royal eye to eye +You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me +If I demand before this royal view +What rub or what impediment there is +Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace, +Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births, +Should not in this best garden of the world, +Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage? +Alas, she hath from France too long been chased, +And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, +Corrupting in its own fertility. +Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, +Unpruned, dies. Her hedges, even-pleached, +Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, +Put forth disordered twigs. Her fallow leas +The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory +Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts +That should deracinate such savagery. +The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth +The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, +Wanting the scythe, withal uncorrected, rank, +Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems +But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, +Losing both beauty and utility. +And all our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, +Defective in their natures, grow to wildness. +Even so our houses and ourselves and children +Have lost, or do not learn for want of time, +The sciences that should become our country, +But grow like savages, as soldiers will +That nothing do but meditate on blood, +To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire, +And everything that seems unnatural. +Which to reduce into our former favor +You are assembled, and my speech entreats +That I may know the let why gentle peace +Should not expel these inconveniences +And bless us with her former qualities. + +KING HENRY +If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace, +Whose want gives growth to th' imperfections +Which you have cited, you must buy that peace +With full accord to all our just demands, +Whose tenors and particular effects +You have, enscheduled briefly, in your hands. + +BURGUNDY +The King hath heard them, to the which as yet +There is no answer made. + +KING HENRY +Well then, the peace which you before so urged +Lies in his answer. + +KING OF FRANCE +I have but with a cursitory eye +O'erglanced the articles. Pleaseth your Grace +To appoint some of your council presently +To sit with us once more with better heed +To resurvey them, we will suddenly +Pass our accept and peremptory answer. + +KING HENRY +Brother, we shall.--Go, uncle Exeter, +And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester, +Warwick, and Huntington, go with the King, +And take with you free power to ratify, +Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best +Shall see advantageable for our dignity, +Anything in or out of our demands, +And we'll consign thereto.--Will you, fair sister, +Go with the princes or stay here with us? + +QUEEN OF FRANCE +Our gracious brother, I will go with them. +Haply a woman's voice may do some good +When articles too nicely urged be stood on. + +KING HENRY +Yet leave our cousin Katherine here with us. +She is our capital demand, comprised +Within the forerank of our articles. + +QUEEN OF FRANCE +She hath good leave. +[All but Katherine, and the King of England, +and Alice exit.] + +KING HENRY Fair Katherine, and most fair, +Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms +Such as will enter at a lady's ear +And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart? + +KATHERINE Your Majesty shall mock at me. I cannot +speak your England. + +KING HENRY O fair Katherine, if you will love me +soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to +hear you confess it brokenly with your English +tongue. Do you like me, Kate? + +KATHERINE Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell wat is "like +me." + +KING HENRY An angel is like you, Kate, and you are +like an angel. + +KATHERINE, [to Alice] Que dit-il? Que je suis semblable a +les anges? + +ALICE Oui, vraiment, sauf votre Grace, ainsi dit-il. + +KING HENRY I said so, dear Katherine, and I must not +blush to affirm it. + +KATHERINE O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont +pleines de tromperies. + +KING HENRY, [to Alice] What says she, fair one? That the +tongues of men are full of deceits? + +ALICE Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of +deceits; dat is de Princess. + +KING HENRY The Princess is the better Englishwoman.-- +I' faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy +understanding. I am glad thou canst speak no +better English, for if thou couldst, thou wouldst +find me such a plain king that thou wouldst think I +had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways +to mince it in love, but directly to say "I love you." +Then if you urge me farther than to say "Do you, in +faith?" I wear out my suit. Give me your answer, i' +faith, do; and so clap hands and a bargain. How say +you, lady? + +KATHERINE Sauf votre honneur, me understand well. + +KING HENRY Marry, if you would put me to verses or +to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me. +For the one, I have neither words nor measure; and +for the other, I have no strength in measure, yet a +reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a +lady at leapfrog or by vaulting into my saddle with +my armor on my back, under the correction of +bragging be it spoken, I should quickly leap into a +wife. Or if I might buffet for my love, or bound my +horse for her favors, I could lay on like a butcher +and sit like a jackanapes, never off. But, before God, +Kate, I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my eloquence, +nor I have no cunning in protestation, only +downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor +never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of +this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, +that never looks in his glass for love of +anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I +speak to thee plain soldier. If thou canst love me for +this, take me. If not, to say to thee that I shall die is +true, but for thy love, by the Lord, no. Yet I love thee +too. And while thou liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of +plain and uncoined constancy, for he perforce must +do thee right because he hath not the gift to woo in +other places. For these fellows of infinite tongue, +that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favors, they +do always reason themselves out again. What? A +speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a ballad, a +good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black +beard will turn white, a curled pate will grow bald, +a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow, but +a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon, or +rather the sun and not the moon, for it shines bright +and never changes but keeps his course truly. If +thou would have such a one, take me. And take me, +take a soldier. Take a soldier, take a king. And what +say'st thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, and +fairly, I pray thee. + +KATHERINE Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of +France? + +KING HENRY No, it is not possible you should love the +enemy of France, Kate. But, in loving me, you +should love the friend of France, for I love France +so well that I will not part with a village of it. I will +have it all mine. And, Kate, when France is mine +and I am yours, then yours is France and you are +mine. + +KATHERINE I cannot tell wat is dat. + +KING HENRY No, Kate? I will tell thee in French, +which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like a +new-married wife about her husband's neck, hardly +to be shook off. Je quand sur le possession de +France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi--let +me see, what then? Saint Denis be my speed!--donc +votre est France, et vous etes mienne. It is as easy for +me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom as to speak so +much more French. I shall never move thee in +French, unless it be to laugh at me. + +KATHERINE Sauf votre honneur, le francais que vous +parlez, il est meilleur que l'anglais lequel je parle. + +KING HENRY No, faith, is 't not, Kate, but thy speaking +of my tongue, and I thine, most truly-falsely must +needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost +thou understand thus much English? Canst thou +love me? + +KATHERINE I cannot tell. + +KING HENRY Can any of your neighbors tell, Kate? I'll +ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me; and at +night, when you come into your closet, you'll question +this gentlewoman about me, and, I know, Kate, +you will, to her, dispraise those parts in me that you +love with your heart. But, good Kate, mock me +mercifully, the rather, gentle princess, because I +love thee cruelly. If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I +have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I +get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore +needs prove a good soldier-breeder. Shall not thou +and I, between Saint Denis and Saint George, compound +a boy, half French, half English, that shall go +to Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard? +Shall we not? What say'st thou, my fair flower de +luce? + +KATHERINE I do not know dat. + +KING HENRY No, 'tis hereafter to know, but now to +promise. Do but now promise, Kate, you will +endeavor for your French part of such a boy; and +for my English moiety, take the word of a king and +a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katherine +du monde, mon tres cher et divin deesse? + +KATHERINE Your Majeste 'ave fausse French enough to +deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France. + +KING HENRY Now fie upon my false French. By mine +honor, in true English, I love thee, Kate. By which +honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood +begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding +the poor and untempering effect of my visage. Now +beshrew my father's ambition! He was thinking of +civil wars when he got me; therefore was I created +with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that +when I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in +faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear. +My comfort is that old age, that ill layer-up of +beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face. Thou +hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst, and thou shalt +wear me, if thou wear me, better and better. And +therefore tell me, most fair Katherine, will you have +me? Put off your maiden blushes, avouch the +thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress, +take me by the hand, and say "Harry of England, I +am thine," which word thou shalt no sooner bless +mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud "England +is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Henry +Plantagenet is thine," who, though I speak it before +his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou +shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your +answer in broken music, for thy voice is music, and +thy English broken. Therefore, queen of all, Katherine, +break thy mind to me in broken English. Wilt +thou have me? + +KATHERINE Dat is as it shall please de roi mon pere. + +KING HENRY Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall +please him, Kate. + +KATHERINE Den it sall also content me. + +KING HENRY Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you +my queen. + +KATHERINE Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez! Ma +foi, je ne veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur, +en baisant la main d' une--Notre Seigneur!-- +indigne serviteur. Excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon +tres puissant seigneur. + +KING HENRY Then I will kiss your lips, Kate. + +KATHERINE Les dames et demoiselles, pour etre baisees +devant leurs noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France. + +KING HENRY Madam my interpreter, what says she? + +ALICE Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of +France--I cannot tell wat is baiser en Anglish. + +KING HENRY To kiss. + +ALICE Your Majeste entendre bettre que moi. + +KING HENRY It is not a fashion for the maids in France +to kiss before they are married, would she say? + +ALICE Oui, vraiment. + +KING HENRY O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great +kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined +within the weak list of a country's fashion. We are +the makers of manners, Kate, and the liberty that +follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults, +as I will do yours for upholding the nice fashion of +your country in denying me a kiss. Therefore, +patiently and yielding. [He kisses her.] You have +witchcraft in your lips, Kate. There is more eloquence +in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues +of the French council, and they should sooner +persuade Harry of England than a general petition +of monarchs. + +[Enter the French power, the French King and Queen +and Burgundy, and the English Lords Westmoreland +and Exeter.] +Here comes your father. + +BURGUNDY God save your Majesty. My royal cousin, +teach you our princess English? + +KING HENRY I would have her learn, my fair cousin, +how perfectly I love her, and that is good English. + +BURGUNDY Is she not apt? + +KING HENRY Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition +is not smooth, so that, having neither the voice +nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so +conjure up the spirit of love in her that he will +appear in his true likeness. + +BURGUNDY Pardon the frankness of my mirth if I +answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, +you must make a circle; if conjure up Love in her in +his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. +Can you blame her, then, being a maid yet rosed +over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny +the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked +seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a +maid to consign to. + +KING HENRY Yet they do wink and yield, as love is +blind and enforces. + +BURGUNDY They are then excused, my lord, when they +see not what they do. + +KING HENRY Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to +consent winking. + +BURGUNDY I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if +you will teach her to know my meaning, for maids +well summered and warm kept are like flies at +Bartholomew-tide: blind, though they have their +eyes; and then they will endure handling, which +before would not abide looking on. + +KING HENRY This moral ties me over to time and a hot +summer. And so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, +in the latter end, and she must be blind too. + +BURGUNDY As love is, my lord, before it loves. + +KING HENRY It is so. And you may, some of you, thank +love for my blindness, who cannot see many a fair +French city for one fair French maid that stands in +my way. + +KING OF FRANCE Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, +the cities turned into a maid, for they are all +girdled with maiden walls that war hath never +entered. + +KING HENRY Shall Kate be my wife? + +KING OF FRANCE So please you. + +KING HENRY I am content, so the maiden cities you +talk of may wait on her. So the maid that stood in +the way for my wish shall show me the way to my +will. + +KING OF FRANCE +We have consented to all terms of reason. + +KING HENRY Is 't so, my lords of England? + +WESTMORELAND +The King hath granted every article, +His daughter first, and, in sequel, all, +According to their firm proposed natures. + +EXETER +Only he hath not yet subscribed this: +Where your Majesty demands that the King of +France, having any occasion to write for matter of +grant, shall name your Highness in this form and +with this addition, in French: Notre tres cher fils +Henri, roi d' Angleterre, heritier de France; and thus +in Latin: Praeclarissimus filius noster Henricus, rex +Angliae et hoeres Franciae. + +KING OF FRANCE +Nor this I have not, brother, so denied +But your request shall make me let it pass. + +KING HENRY +I pray you, then, in love and dear alliance, +Let that one article rank with the rest, +And thereupon give me your daughter. + +KING OF FRANCE +Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up +Issue to me, that the contending kingdoms +Of France and England, whose very shores look pale +With envy of each other's happiness, +May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction +Plant neighborhood and Christian-like accord +In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance +His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France. + +LORDS Amen. + +KING HENRY +Now welcome, Kate, and bear me witness all +That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen. +[He kisses her. Flourish.] + +QUEEN OF FRANCE +God, the best maker of all marriages, +Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one. +As man and wife, being two, are one in love, +So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal +That never may ill office or fell jealousy, +Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage, +Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms +To make divorce of their incorporate league, +That English may as French, French Englishmen, +Receive each other. God speak this Amen! + +ALL Amen. + +KING HENRY +Prepare we for our marriage; on which day, +My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath, +And all the peers', for surety of our leagues. +Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me, +And may our oaths well kept and prosp'rous be. +[Sennet. They exit.] + +[Enter Chorus as Epilogue.] + + +CHORUS +Thus far with rough and all-unable pen +Our bending author hath pursued the story, +In little room confining mighty men, +Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. +Small time, but in that small most greatly lived +This star of England. Fortune made his sword, +By which the world's best garden he achieved +And of it left his son imperial lord. +Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crowned King +Of France and England, did this king succeed, +Whose state so many had the managing +That they lost France and made his England bleed, +Which oft our stage hath shown. And for their sake, +In your fair minds let this acceptance take. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae6e4f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-1_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4562 @@ +Henry VI, Part 1 +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-vi-part-1/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +The English +KING HENRY VI +Lord TALBOT, afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury +JOHN TALBOT, his son +Duke of GLOUCESTER, the king's uncle, and Lord Protector +Duke of BEDFORD, the king's uncle, and Regent of France +Duke of EXETER, the king's great-uncle +Cardinal, Bishop of WINCHESTER, the king's great-uncle +Duke of SOMERSET +Richard PLANTAGENET, later Duke of YORK, and Regent of France +Earl of WARWICK +Earl of SALISBURY +Earl of SUFFOLK, William de la Pole +Edmund MORTIMER, Earl of March +Sir William GLANSDALE +Sir Thomas GARGRAVE +Sir John FASTOLF +Sir William LUCY +WOODVILLE, Lieutenant of the Tower of London +VERNON, of the White Rose or York faction +BASSET, of the Red Rose or Lancaster faction +A LAWYER +JAILORS to Mortimer +A LEGATE +MAYOR of London +Heralds, Attendants, three Messengers, Servingmen in blue coats and in tawny coats, two Warders, Officers, Soldiers, Captains, Watch, Trumpeters, Drummer, Servant, two Ambassadors + +The French +CHARLES, Dauphin of France +Joan la PUCELLE, also Joan of Arc +REIGNIER, Duke of Anjou and Maine, King of Naples +MARGARET, his daughter +Duke of ALANSON +Bastard of ORLEANCE +Duke of BURGUNDY +GENERAL of the French forces at Bordeaux +COUNTESS of Auvergne +Her PORTER +MASTER GUNNER of Orleance +BOY, his son +SERGEANT of a Band +A SHEPHERD, Pucelle's father +Drummer, Soldiers, two Sentinels, Messenger, Soldiers, Governor of Paris, Herald, Scout, Fiends accompanying Pucelle + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Dead March. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, +attended on by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; +the Duke of Gloucester, Protector; the Duke of Exeter; +the Earl of Warwick; the Bishop of Winchester; and +the Duke of Somerset, with Heralds and Attendants.] + + +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death: +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long. +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command; +His brandished sword did blind men with his beams; +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than midday sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech. +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black; why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive. +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And Death's dishonorable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What? Shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that, afraid of him, +By magic verses have contrived his end? + +WINCHESTER +He was a king blest of the King of kings; +Unto the French the dreadful Judgment Day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of Hosts he fought; +The Church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The Church? Where is it? Had not churchmen prayed, +His thread of life had not so soon decayed. +None do you like but an effeminate prince +Whom like a schoolboy you may overawe. + +WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art Protector +And lookest to command the Prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st, +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars, and rest your minds in peace! +Let's to the altar.--Heralds, wait on us.-- +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms, +Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years +When at their mothers' moistened eyes babes shall +suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens. +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +My honorable lords, health to you all. +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture: +Guyen, Champaigne, Rheims, Roan, Orleance, +Paris, Gisors, Poitiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? Is Roan yielded up? +If Henry were recalled to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the +ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? What treachery was used? + +MESSENGER +No treachery, but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers, this is muttered: +That here you maintain several factions +And, whilst a field should be dispatched and fought, +You are disputing of your generals. +One would have ling'ring wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtained. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your honors new begot. +Cropped are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat, one half is cut away. [He exits.] + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth her flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat, I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes. +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +[Enter to them another Messenger, with papers.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER +Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import. +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleance with him is joined; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alanson flieth to his side. [He exits.] + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king? All fly to him? +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly but to our enemies' throats.-- +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I mustered in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +THIRD MESSENGER +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. + +WINCHESTER +What? Wherein Talbot overcame, is 't so? + +THIRD MESSENGER +O no, wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown. +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last, this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleance, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop, +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men. +He wanted pikes to set before his archers, +Instead whereof, sharp stakes plucked out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued, +Where valiant Talbot, above human thought, +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance. +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and everywhere, enraged, he slew. +The French exclaimed the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him. +His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit, +"A Talbot! A Talbot!" cried out amain +And rushed into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been sealed up +If Sir John Fastolf had not played the coward. +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wrack and massacre. +Enclosed were they with their enemies. +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France, with their chief assembled +strength, +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain then? I will slay myself +For living idly here, in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betrayed. + +THIRD MESSENGER +O, no, he lives, but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford; +Most of the rest slaughtered or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay. +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne; +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend. +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I. +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal. +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +THIRD MESSENGER +So you had need; 'fore Orleance besieged, +The English army is grown weak and faint; +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they so few watch such a multitude. +[He exits.] + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn: +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it, and here take my leave +To go about my preparation. [Bedford exits.] + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can +To view th' artillery and munition, +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. +[Gloucester exits.] + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordained his special governor; +And for his safety there I'll best devise. [He exits.] + +WINCHESTER, [aside] +Each hath his place and function to attend. +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack-out-of-office. +The King from Eltham I intend to steal, +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. +[He exits at one door; at another door, +Warwick, Somerset, Attendants and +Heralds exit with the coffin.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Sound a flourish. Enter Charles the Dauphin, +Alanson, and Reignier, marching with Drum +and Soldiers.] + + +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the Earth, to this day is not known. +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie, near Orleance. +Otherwhiles, the famished English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALANSON +They want their porridge and their fat bull beeves. +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths, +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege. Why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear. +Remaineth none but mad-brained Salisbury, +And he may well in fretting spend his gall; +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! We will rush on them. +Now for the honor of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot, or fly. +[They exit. Here alarum. They are beaten +back by the English, with great loss.] + +[Enter Charles, Alanson, and Reignier.] + + +CHARLES +Whoever saw the like? What men have I! +Dogs, cowards, dastards! I would ne'er have fled +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide. +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALANSON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records +England all Olivers and Rolands bred +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified, +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean rawboned rascals! Who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town, for they are hare-brained slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager. +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think by some odd gimmers or device +Their arms are set, like clocks, still to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALANSON Be it so. + +[Enter the Bastard of Orleance.] + + +BASTARD +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleance, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appalled. +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismayed, for succor is at hand. +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which, by a vision sent to her from heaven, +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine Sibyls of old Rome. +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go call her in. [Bastard exits.] +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place; +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern. +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +[Enter Bastard, with Joan la Pucelle.] + + +REIGNIER, [as Charles] +Fair maid, is 't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +PUCELLE +Reignier, is 't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin?--Come, come from behind. +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed; there's nothing hid from me. +In private will I talk with thee apart.-- +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave a while. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. +[Alanson, Reignier, and Bastard exit.] + +PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrained in any kind of art. +Heaven and Our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate. +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat displayed my cheeks, +God's Mother deigned to appear to me, +And in a vision full of majesty +Willed me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity. +Her aid she promised and assured success. +In complete glory she revealed herself; +And whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I blest with, which you may see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated. +My courage try by combat, if thou dar'st, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this: thou shalt be fortunate +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonished me with thy high terms. +Only this proof I'll of thy valor make: +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +PUCELLE +I am prepared. Here is my keen-edged sword, +Decked with fine flower-de-luces on each side-- +[Aside.] The which at Touraine, in Saint Katherine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, a' God's name! I fear no woman. + +PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. +[Here they fight, and +Joan la Pucelle overcomes.] + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! Thou art an Amazon, +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me; else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me. +Impatiently I burn with thy desire. +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be. +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rights of love, +For my profession's sacred from above. +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +[Enter Reignier and Alanson.] + + +REIGNIER, [aside to Alanson] +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALANSON, [aside to Reignier] +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock, +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER, [aside to Alanson] +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALANSON, [aside to Reignier] +He may mean more than we poor men do know. +These women are shrewd tempters with their +tongues. + +REIGNIER, [to Charles] +My lord, where are you? What devise you on? +Shall we give o'er Orleance, or no? + +PUCELLE +Why, no, I say. Distrustful recreants, +Fight till the last gasp. I'll be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +PUCELLE +Assigned am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise. +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyons' days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught. +With Henry's death, the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the Earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALANSON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honors. +Drive them from Orleance and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try. Come, let's away about it. +No prophet will I trust if she prove false. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Gloucester with his Servingmen in blue coats.] + + +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day. +Since Henry's death I fear there is conveyance. +Where be these warders that they wait not here?-- +Open the gates! 'Tis Gloucester that calls. +[Servingmen knock at the gate.] + +FIRST WARDER, [within] +Who's there that knocks so imperiously? + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +SECOND WARDER, [within] +Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Villains, answer you so the Lord Protector? + +FIRST WARDER, [within] +The Lord protect him, so we answer him. +We do no otherwise than we are willed. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? Or whose will stands but mine? +There's none Protector of the realm but I.-- +Break up the gates! I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? +[Gloucester's men rush at the Tower gates, and +Woodville, the lieutenant, speaks within.] + +WOODVILLE +What noise is this? What traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates. Here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILLE +Have patience, noble duke, I may not open. +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids. +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Fainthearted Woodville, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the King. +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. + +SERVINGMEN +Open the gates unto the Lord Protector, +Or we'll burst them open if that you come not quickly. + +[Enter, to the Protector at the Tower gates, Winchester +in cardinal's robes and his men in tawny coats.] + + +WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphrey, what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peeled priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? + +WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor-- +And not Protector--of the King or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrived'st to murder our dead lord, +Thou that giv'st whores indulgences to sin! +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. + +WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back. I will not budge a foot. +This be Damascus; be thou cursed Cain +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back. +Thy scarlet robes, as a child's bearing-cloth, +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. + +WINCHESTER +Do what thou dar'st, I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What, am I dared and bearded to my face?-- +Draw, men, for all this privileged place. +Blue coats to tawny coats! [All draw their swords.] +Priest, beware your beard. +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly. +Under my feet I'll stamp thy cardinal's hat; +In spite of pope or dignities of Church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. + +WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the Pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry "a rope, a rope!"-- +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay?-- +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.-- +Out, tawny coats, out, scarlet hypocrite! + +[Here Gloucester's men beat out the Cardinal's men, +and enter in the hurly-burly the Mayor of London +and his Officers.] + + +MAYOR +Fie, lords, that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, Mayor? Thou know'st little of my wrongs. +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrained the Tower to his use. + +WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines; +That seeks to overthrow religion +Because he is Protector of the realm, +And would have armor here out of the Tower +To crown himself king and suppress the Prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. +[Here they skirmish again.] + +MAYOR +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation. +Come, officer, as loud as e'er thou canst, cry. +[He hands an Officer a paper.] + +OFFICER [reads] All manner of men, assembled here in +arms this day against God's peace and the King's, we +charge and command you, in his Highness' name, to +repair to your several dwelling places, and not to +wear, handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law, +But we shall meet and break our minds at large. + +WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we'll meet to thy cost, be sure. +Thy heartblood I will have for this day's work. + +MAYOR +I'll call for clubs if you will not away. +[(Aside.)] This cardinal's more haughty than the devil! + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell. Thou dost but what thou mayst. + +WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head, +For I intend to have it ere long. +[Gloucester and Winchester exit +at separate doors, with their Servingmen.] + +MAYOR, [to Officers] +See the coast cleared, and then we will depart. +[(Aside.)] Good God, these nobles should such +stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the Master Gunner of Orleance and his Boy.] + + +MASTER GUNNER +Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleance is besieged +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +BOY +Father, I know, and oft have shot at them; +Howe'er, unfortunate, I missed my aim. + +MASTER GUNNER +But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me. +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The Prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close entrenched, +Went through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed, +And even these three days have I watched +If I could see them. Now do thou watch, +For I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the Governor's. [He exits.] + +BOY +Father, I warrant you, take you no care; +I'll never trouble you if I may spy them. [He exits.] + +[Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the turrets, +with Sir William Glansdale, Sir Thomas Gargrave, +Attendants and Others.] + + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again returned! +How wert thou handled, being prisoner? +Or by what means gott'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Called the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man-of-arms by far +Once in contempt they would have bartered me, +Which I disdaining, scorned, and craved death +Rather than I would be so vile-esteemed. +In fine, redeemed I was as I desired. +But O, the treacherous Fastolf wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertained. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open marketplace produced they me +To be a public spectacle to all. +"Here," said they, "is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so." +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digged stones out of the ground +To hurl at the beholders of my shame. +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deemed me not secure: +So great fear of my name 'mongst them were spread +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant. +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +[Enter the Boy with a linstock. +He crosses the main stage and exits.] + + + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently. +Now it is supper time in Orleance. +Here, through this grate, I count each one +And view the Frenchmen how they fortify. +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our batt'ry next? + +GARGRAVE +I think at the north gate, for there stands lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famished +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. +[Here they shoot, and Salisbury +and Gargrave fall down.] + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woeful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath crossed us?-- +Speak, Salisbury--at least if thou canst, speak! +How far'st thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!-- +Accursed tower, accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woeful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first trained to the wars. +Whilst any trump did sound or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.-- +Yet liv'st thou, Salisbury? Though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast to look to heaven for grace. +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!-- +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot. Nay, look up to him.-- +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +[Attendants exit with body of Gargrave.] +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort, +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me +As who should say "When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French." +Plantagenet, I will; and, like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn. +Wretched shall France be only in my name. +[Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens.] +What stir is this? What tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head. +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle joined, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. +[Here Salisbury lifteth himself up and groans.] + +TALBOT +Hear, hear, how dying Salisbury doth groan; +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you. +Pucelle or puzel, dauphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey we Salisbury into his tent, +And then try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. +[Alarum. They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Here an alarum again, and Talbot pursueth the +Dauphin and driveth him; then enter Joan la Pucelle, +driving Englishmen before her. They cross the stage +and exit. Then enter Talbot.] + + +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valor, and my force? +Our English troops retire; I cannot stay them. +A woman clad in armor chaseth them. + +[Enter Pucelle, with Soldiers.] + +Here, here she comes!--I'll have a bout with thee. +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee. +Blood will I draw on thee--thou art a witch-- +And straightway give thy soul to him thou serv'st. + +PUCELLE +Come, come; 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. +[Here they fight.] + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage, +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. +[They fight again.] + +PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell. Thy hour is not yet come. +I must go victual Orleance forthwith. +[A short alarum. Then she prepares to +enter the town with Soldiers.] +O'ertake me if thou canst. I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hunger-starved men. +Help Salisbury to make his testament. +This day is ours, as many more shall be. +[She exits with Soldiers.] + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel. +I know not where I am nor what I do. +A witch by fear--not force, like Hannibal-- +Drives back our troops, and conquers as she lists. +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They called us, for our fierceness, English dogs; +Now like to whelps we crying run away. + +[A short alarum. Enter English soldiers, +chased by French soldiers.] + +Hark, countrymen, either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat. +Renounce your soil; give sheep in lions' stead. +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. +[Alarum. Here another skirmish.] +It will not be! Retire into your trenches. +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is entered into Orleance +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +[Soldiers exit.] +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. +[Talbot exits. Alarum. Retreat.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Flourish. Enter on the walls Pucelle, Charles the +Dauphin, Reignier, Alanson, and Soldiers.] + + +PUCELLE +Advance our waving colors on the walls. +Rescued is Orleance from the English. +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word. +[She exits.] + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honor thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' garden +That one day bloomed and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess. +Recovered is the town of Orleance. +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALANSON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy +When they shall hear how we have played the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodophe's of Memphis ever was. +In memory of her, when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jeweled coffer of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Dennis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally +After this golden day of victory. +[Flourish. They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter on the walls a French Sergeant of a Band, +with two Sentinels.] + + +SERGEANT +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant. +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +SENTINEL +Sergeant, you shall. [Sergeant exits.] +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold. + +[Enter Talbot, Bedford, and Burgundy, below, +with scaling ladders.] + + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Walloon, and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted. +Embrace we then this opportunity, +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France, how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD A maid? And be so martial? + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armor as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practice and converse with spirits. +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot. We will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together. Better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways, +That if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed. I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. +[Scaling the walls, they cry +"Saint George! A Talbot!"] + +SENTINEL +Arm, arm! The enemy doth make assault. +[The English, pursuing the Sentinels, exit aloft.] +[The French leap o'er the walls in their shirts.] + +[Enter several ways, Bastard, Alanson, Reignier, +half ready, and half unready.] + + +ALANSON +How now, my lords? What, all unready so? + +BASTARD +Unready? Ay, and glad we scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber doors. + +ALANSON +Of all exploits since first I followed arms +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens sure favor him. + +ALANSON +Here cometh Charles. I marvel how he sped. + +[Enter Charles and Joan la Pucelle.] + + +BASTARD +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking, must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?-- +Improvident soldiers, had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alanson, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch tonight, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALANSON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And for myself, most part of all this night +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employed in passing to and fro +About relieving of the sentinels. +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way; 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this: +To gather our soldiers, scattered and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +[Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying, +"A Talbot, A Talbot!" The French fly, +leaving their clothes behind.] + + +SOLDIER +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of "Talbot" serves me for a sword, +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, a Captain and Others.] + + +BEDFORD +The day begins to break and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veiled the Earth. +Here sound retreat and cease our hot pursuit. +[Retreat sounded.] + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the marketplace, +The middle center of this cursed town. + +[Soldiers enter bearing the body of Salisbury, +Drums beating a dead march.] + +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul: +For every drop of blood was drawn from him +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And, that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happened in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb wherein his corpse shall be interred, +Upon the which, that everyone may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleance, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death, +And what a terror he had been to France. +[Funeral exits.] +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapors of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm-in-arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtledoves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +All hail, my lords. Which of this princely train +Call you the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot. Who would speak with him? + +MESSENGER +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encountered with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me, then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness overruled.-- +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her.-- +Will not your Honors bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly, 'tis more than manners will; +And I have heard it said unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.-- +Come hither, captain. [Whispers.] +You perceive my mind? + +CAPTAIN +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Countess of Auvergne, with Porter.] + + +COUNTESS +Porter, remember what I gave in charge, +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +PORTER Madam, I will. [He exits.] + +COUNTESS +The plot is laid. If all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tamyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account. +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +[Enter Messenger and Talbot.] + + +MESSENGER +Madam, according as your Ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. + +COUNTESS +And he is welcome. What, is this the man? + +MESSENGER +Madam, it is. + +COUNTESS Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much feared abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false. +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you. +But since your Ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +[He begins to exit.] + +COUNTESS, [to Messenger] +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +MESSENGER +Stay, my Lord Talbot, for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +[Enter Porter with keys.] + + +COUNTESS, [to Talbot] +If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. + +TALBOT +Prisoner? To whom? + +COUNTESS To me, bloodthirsty lord. +And for that cause I trained thee to my house. +Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, +For in my gallery thy picture hangs. +But now the substance shall endure the like, +And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, +That hast by tyranny these many years +Wasted our country, slain our citizens, +And sent our sons and husbands captivate. + +TALBOT Ha, ha, ha! + +COUNTESS +Laughest thou, wretch? Thy mirth shall turn to moan. + +TALBOT +I laugh to see your Ladyship so fond +To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow +Whereon to practice your severity. + +COUNTESS Why, art not thou the man? + +TALBOT I am, indeed. + +COUNTESS Then have I substance too. + +TALBOT +No, no, I am but shadow of myself. +You are deceived; my substance is not here, +For what you see is but the smallest part +And least proportion of humanity. +I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here, +It is of such a spacious lofty pitch +Your roof were not sufficient to contain 't. + +COUNTESS +This is a riddling merchant for the nonce: +He will be here and yet he is not here. +How can these contrarieties agree? + +TALBOT +That will I show you presently. +[Winds his horn. Drums strike up; +a peal of ordnance.] + +[Enter Soldiers.] + +How say you, madam? Are you now persuaded +That Talbot is but shadow of himself? +These are his substance, sinews, arms, and strength, +With which he yoketh your rebellious necks, +Razeth your cities, and subverts your towns, +And in a moment makes them desolate. + +COUNTESS +Victorious Talbot, pardon my abuse. +I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited, +And more than may be gathered by thy shape. +Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath, +For I am sorry that with reverence +I did not entertain thee as thou art. + +TALBOT +Be not dismayed, fair lady, nor misconster +The mind of Talbot as you did mistake +The outward composition of his body. +What you have done hath not offended me, +Nor other satisfaction do I crave +But only, with your patience, that we may +Taste of your wine and see what cates you have, +For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. + +COUNTESS +With all my heart, and think me honored +To feast so great a warrior in my house. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Richard Plantagenet, Warwick, Somerset, +William de la Pole the Earl of Suffolk, +Vernon, a Lawyer, and Others.] + + +PLANTAGENET +Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence? +Dare no man answer in a case of truth? + +SUFFOLK +Within the Temple Hall we were too loud; +The garden here is more convenient. + +PLANTAGENET +Then say at once if I maintained the truth, +Or else was wrangling Somerset in th' error? + +SUFFOLK +Faith, I have been a truant in the law +And never yet could frame my will to it, +And therefore frame the law unto my will. + +SOMERSET +Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us. + +WARWICK +Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, +Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, +Between two blades, which bears the better temper, +Between two horses, which doth bear him best, +Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye, +I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; +But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, +Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. + +PLANTAGENET +Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance! +The truth appears so naked on my side +That any purblind eye may find it out. + +SOMERSET +And on my side it is so well appareled, +So clear, so shining, and so evident, +That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. + +PLANTAGENET +Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak, +In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts: +Let him that is a trueborn gentleman +And stands upon the honor of his birth, +If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, +From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. + +SOMERSET +Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, +But dare maintain the party of the truth, +Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. + +WARWICK +I love no colors; and, without all color +Of base insinuating flattery, +I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet. + +SUFFOLK +I pluck this red rose with young Somerset, +And say withal I think he held the right. + +VERNON +Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more +Till you conclude that he upon whose side +The fewest roses are cropped from the tree +Shall yield the other in the right opinion. + +SOMERSET +Good Master Vernon, it is well objected: +If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence. + +PLANTAGENET And I. + +VERNON +Then for the truth and plainness of the case, +I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, +Giving my verdict on the white rose side. + +SOMERSET +Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, +Lest, bleeding, you do paint the white rose red, +And fall on my side so against your will. + +VERNON +If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, +Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt +And keep me on the side where still I am. + +SOMERSET Well, well, come on, who else? + +LAWYER +Unless my study and my books be false, +The argument you held was wrong in law, +In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too. + +PLANTAGENET +Now, Somerset, where is your argument? + +SOMERSET +Here in my scabbard, meditating that +Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red. + +PLANTAGENET +Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses, +For pale they look with fear, as witnessing +The truth on our side. + +SOMERSET No, Plantagenet. +'Tis not for fear, but anger that thy cheeks +Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses, +And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error. + +PLANTAGENET +Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset? + +SOMERSET +Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet? + +PLANTAGENET +Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth, +Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood. + +SOMERSET +Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses +That shall maintain what I have said is true, +Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. + +PLANTAGENET +Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, +I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. + +SUFFOLK +Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. + +PLANTAGENET +Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee. + +SUFFOLK +I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat. + +SOMERSET +Away, away, good William de la Pole! +We grace the yeoman by conversing with him. + +WARWICK +Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset. +His grandfather was Lionel, Duke of Clarence, +Third son to the third Edward, King of England. +Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root? + +PLANTAGENET +He bears him on the place's privilege, +Or durst not for his craven heart say thus. + +SOMERSET +By Him that made me, I'll maintain my words +On any plot of ground in Christendom. +Was not thy father Richard, Earl of Cambridge, +For treason executed in our late king's days? +And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted, +Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry? +His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood, +And, till thou be restored, thou art a yeoman. + +PLANTAGENET +My father was attached, not attainted, +Condemned to die for treason, but no traitor; +And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset, +Were growing time once ripened to my will. +For your partaker Pole and you yourself, +I'll note you in my book of memory +To scourge you for this apprehension. +Look to it well, and say you are well warned. + +SOMERSET +Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee still, +And know us by these colors for thy foes, +For these my friends in spite of thee shall wear. + +PLANTAGENET +And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, +As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, +Will I forever, and my faction, wear +Until it wither with me to my grave +Or flourish to the height of my degree. + +SUFFOLK +Go forward, and be choked with thy ambition! +And so farewell, until I meet thee next. [He exits.] + +SOMERSET +Have with thee, Pole.--Farewell, ambitious Richard. +[He exits.] + +PLANTAGENET +How I am braved, and must perforce endure it! + +WARWICK +This blot that they object against your house +Shall be whipped out in the next parliament, +Called for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester; +And if thou be not then created York, +I will not live to be accounted Warwick. +Meantime, in signal of my love to thee, +Against proud Somerset and William Pole +Will I upon thy party wear this rose. +And here I prophesy: this brawl today, +Grown to this faction in the Temple garden, +Shall send, between the red rose and the white, +A thousand souls to death and deadly night. + +PLANTAGENET +Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, +That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. + +VERNON +In your behalf still will I wear the same. + +LAWYER +And so will I. + +PLANTAGENET Thanks, gentle sir. +Come, let us four to dinner. I dare say +This quarrel will drink blood another day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Edmund Mortimer, brought in a chair, +and Jailers.] + + +MORTIMER +Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, +Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. +Even like a man new-haled from the rack, +So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; +And these gray locks, the pursuivants of death, +Nestor-like aged in an age of care, +Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer; +These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, +Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent; +Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief, +And pithless arms, like to a withered vine +That droops his sapless branches to the ground; +Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb, +Unable to support this lump of clay, +Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, +As witting I no other comfort have. +But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come? + +KEEPER +Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come. +We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber, +And answer was returned that he will come. + +MORTIMER +Enough. My soul shall then be satisfied. +Poor gentleman, his wrong doth equal mine. +Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, +Before whose glory I was great in arms, +This loathsome sequestration have I had; +And even since then hath Richard been obscured, +Deprived of honor and inheritance. +But now the arbitrator of despairs, +Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries, +With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence. +I would his troubles likewise were expired, +That so he might recover what was lost. + +[Enter Richard Plantagenet.] + + +KEEPER +My lord, your loving nephew now is come. + +MORTIMER +Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? + +PLANTAGENET +Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used, +Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. + +MORTIMER, [to Jailer] +Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck +And in his bosom spend my latter gasp. +O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks, +That I may kindly give one fainting kiss. +[He embraces Richard.] +And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, +Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised? + +PLANTAGENET +First, lean thine aged back against mine arm, +And in that ease I'll tell thee my disease. +This day, in argument upon a case, +Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me, +Among which terms he used his lavish tongue +And did upbraid me with my father's death; +Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, +Else with the like I had requited him. +Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake, +In honor of a true Plantagenet, +And for alliance' sake, declare the cause +My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head. + +MORTIMER +That cause, fair nephew, that imprisoned me +And hath detained me all my flow'ring youth +Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, +Was cursed instrument of his decease. + +PLANTAGENET +Discover more at large what cause that was, +For I am ignorant and cannot guess. + +MORTIMER +I will, if that my fading breath permit +And death approach not ere my tale be done. +Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, +Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son, +The first begotten and the lawful heir +Of Edward king, the third of that descent; +During whose reign the Percies of the north, +Finding his usurpation most unjust, +Endeavored my advancement to the throne. +The reason moved these warlike lords to this +Was, for that--young Richard thus removed, +Leaving no heir begotten of his body-- +I was the next by birth and parentage; +For by my mother I derived am +From Lionel, Duke of Clarence, third son +To King Edward the Third; whereas he +From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree, +Being but fourth of that heroic line. +But mark: as in this haughty great attempt +They labored to plant the rightful heir, +I lost my liberty and they their lives. +Long after this, when Henry the Fifth, +Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign, +Thy father, Earl of Cambridge then, derived +From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York, +Marrying my sister that thy mother was, +Again, in pity of my hard distress, +Levied an army, weening to redeem +And have installed me in the diadem. +But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl +And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers, +In whom the title rested, were suppressed. + +PLANTAGENET +Of which, my lord, your Honor is the last. + +MORTIMER +True, and thou seest that I no issue have +And that my fainting words do warrant death. +Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather. +But yet be wary in thy studious care. + +PLANTAGENET +Thy grave admonishments prevail with me. +But yet methinks my father's execution +Was nothing less than bloody tyranny. + +MORTIMER +With silence, nephew, be thou politic; +Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster, +And, like a mountain, not to be removed. +But now thy uncle is removing hence, +As princes do their courts when they are cloyed +With long continuance in a settled place. + +PLANTAGENET +O uncle, would some part of my young years +Might but redeem the passage of your age. + +MORTIMER +Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth +Which giveth many wounds when one will kill. +Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good; +Only give order for my funeral. +And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes, +And prosperous be thy life in peace and war. +[Dies.] + +PLANTAGENET +And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul. +In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, +And like a hermit overpassed thy days.-- +Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast, +And what I do imagine, let that rest.-- +Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself +Will see his burial better than his life. +[Jailers exit carrying Mortimer's body.] +Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, +Choked with ambition of the meaner sort. +And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries, +Which Somerset hath offered to my house, +I doubt not but with honor to redress. +And therefore haste I to the Parliament, +Either to be restored to my blood, +Or make mine ill th' advantage of my good. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Gloucester, and +Winchester; Richard Plantagenet and Warwick, +with white roses; Somerset and Suffolk, with red +roses; and Others. Gloucester offers to put up a bill. +Winchester snatches it, tears it.] + + +WINCHESTER +Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, +With written pamphlets studiously devised? +Humphrey of Gloucester, if thou canst accuse +Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge, +Do it without invention, suddenly, +As I with sudden and extemporal speech +Purpose to answer what thou canst object. + +GLOUCESTER +Presumptuous priest, this place commands my +patience, +Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonored me. +Think not, although in writing I preferred +The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, +That therefore I have forged or am not able +Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen. +No, prelate, such is thy audacious wickedness, +Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissentious pranks, +As very infants prattle of thy pride. +Thou art a most pernicious usurer, +Froward by nature, enemy to peace, +Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems +A man of thy profession and degree. +And for thy treachery, what's more manifest, +In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life +As well at London Bridge as at the Tower? +Besides, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted, +The King, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt +From envious malice of thy swelling heart. + +WINCHESTER +Gloucester, I do defy thee.--Lords, vouchsafe +To give me hearing what I shall reply. +If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse, +As he will have me, how am I so poor? +Or how haps it I seek not to advance +Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling? +And for dissension, who preferreth peace +More than I do, except I be provoked? +No, my good lords, it is not that offends; +It is not that that hath incensed the Duke. +It is because no one should sway but he, +No one but he should be about the King; +And that engenders thunder in his breast +And makes him roar these accusations forth. +But he shall know I am as good-- + +GLOUCESTER As good! +Thou bastard of my grandfather! + +WINCHESTER +Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray, +But one imperious in another's throne? + +GLOUCESTER +Am I not Protector, saucy priest? + +WINCHESTER +And am not I a prelate of the Church? + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, +And useth it to patronage his theft. + +WINCHESTER +Unreverent Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER Thou art reverend +Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. + +WINCHESTER +Rome shall remedy this. + +GLOUCESTER Roam thither then. + +WARWICK, [to Winchester] +My lord, it were your duty to forbear. + +SOMERSET +Ay, so the Bishop be not overborne. +Methinks my lord should be religious, +And know the office that belongs to such. + +WARWICK +Methinks his Lordship should be humbler. +It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. + +SOMERSET +Yes, when his holy state is touched so near. + +WARWICK +State holy, or unhallowed, what of that? +Is not his Grace Protector to the King? + +PLANTAGENET, [aside] +Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue, +Lest it be said "Speak, sirrah, when you should; +Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?" +Else would I have a fling at Winchester. + +KING HENRY +Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester, +The special watchmen of our English weal, +I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, +To join your hearts in love and amity. +O, what a scandal is it to our crown +That two such noble peers as you should jar! +Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell +Civil dissension is a viperous worm +That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. + +[A noise within: "Down with the tawny coats!"] +What tumult 's this? + +WARWICK An uproar, I dare warrant, +Begun through malice of the Bishop's men. +[A noise again: "Stones! Stones!"] + +[Enter Mayor.] + + +MAYOR +O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry, +Pity the city of London, pity us! +The Bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men, +Forbidden late to carry any weapon, +Have filled their pockets full of pebble stones +And, banding themselves in contrary parts, +Do pelt so fast at one another's pate +That many have their giddy brains knocked out; +Our windows are broke down in every street, +And we, for fear, compelled to shut our shops. + +[Enter Servingmen in skirmish with bloody pates.] + + +KING HENRY +We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, +To hold your slaught'ring hands and keep the peace.-- +Pray, Uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we'll +fall to it with our teeth. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +Do what you dare, we are as +resolute. [Skirmish again.] + +GLOUCESTER +You of my household, leave this peevish broil, +And set this unaccustomed fight aside. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN +My lord, we know your Grace to be a man +Just and upright, and, for your royal birth, +Inferior to none but to his Majesty; +And ere that we will suffer such a prince, +So kind a father of the commonweal, +To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate, +We and our wives and children all will fight +And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Ay, and the very parings of our nails +Shall pitch a field when we are dead. +[Begin again.] + +GLOUCESTER Stay, stay, I say! +And if you love me, as you say you do, +Let me persuade you to forbear awhile. + +KING HENRY +O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! +Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold +My sighs and tears, and will not once relent? +Who should be pitiful if you be not? +Or who should study to prefer a peace +If holy churchmen take delight in broils? + +WARWICK +Yield, my Lord Protector--yield, Winchester-- +Except you mean with obstinate repulse +To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm. +You see what mischief, and what murder too, +Hath been enacted through your enmity. +Then be at peace, except you thirst for blood. + +WINCHESTER +He shall submit, or I will never yield. + +GLOUCESTER +Compassion on the King commands me stoop, +Or I would see his heart out ere the priest +Should ever get that privilege of me. + +WARWICK +Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the Duke +Hath banished moody discontented fury, +As by his smoothed brows it doth appear. +Why look you still so stern and tragical? + +GLOUCESTER +Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. +[Winchester refuses Gloucester's hand.] + +KING HENRY +Fie, Uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach +That malice was a great and grievous sin; +And will not you maintain the thing you teach, +But prove a chief offender in the same? + +WARWICK +Sweet king! The Bishop hath a kindly gird.-- +For shame, my Lord of Winchester, relent; +What, shall a child instruct you what to do? + +WINCHESTER +Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee; +Love for thy love and hand for hand I give. +[They take each other's hand.] + +GLOUCESTER, [aside] +Ay, but I fear me with a hollow heart.-- +See here, my friends and loving countrymen, +This token serveth for a flag of truce +Betwixt ourselves and all our followers, +So help me God, as I dissemble not. + +WINCHESTER, [aside] +So help me God, as I intend it not. + +KING HENRY +O, loving uncle--kind Duke of Gloucester-- +How joyful am I made by this contract. +[To the Servingmen.] Away, my masters, trouble us +no more, +But join in friendship as your lords have done. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Content. I'll to the surgeon's. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN And so will I. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN And I will see what physic the tavern +affords. +[They exit with Mayor and Others.] + +WARWICK, [presenting a scroll] +Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign, +Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet +We do exhibit to your Majesty. + +GLOUCESTER +Well urged, my Lord of Warwick.--For, sweet prince, +An if your Grace mark every circumstance, +You have great reason to do Richard right, +Especially for those occasions +At Eltham Place I told your Majesty. + +KING HENRY +And those occasions, uncle, were of force.-- +Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is +That Richard be restored to his blood. + +WARWICK +Let Richard be restored to his blood; +So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed. + +WINCHESTER +As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. + +KING HENRY +If Richard will be true, not that alone +But all the whole inheritance I give +That doth belong unto the house of York, +From whence you spring by lineal descent. + +PLANTAGENET +Thy humble servant vows obedience +And humble service till the point of death. + +KING HENRY +Stoop then, and set your knee against my foot; +[Plantagenet kneels.] +And in reguerdon of that duty done +I girt thee with the valiant sword of York. +Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet, +And rise created princely Duke of York. + +YORK, [formerly PLANTAGENET, standing] +And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall! +And as my duty springs, so perish they +That grudge one thought against your Majesty. + +ALL +Welcome, high prince, the mighty Duke of York. + +SOMERSET, [aside] +Perish, base prince, ignoble Duke of York. + +GLOUCESTER +Now will it best avail your Majesty +To cross the seas and to be crowned in France. +The presence of a king engenders love +Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends, +As it disanimates his enemies. + +KING HENRY +When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes, +For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Your ships already are in readiness. +[Sennet. Flourish. All but Exeter exit.] + +EXETER +Ay, we may march in England or in France, +Not seeing what is likely to ensue. +This late dissension grown betwixt the peers +Burns under feigned ashes of forged love +And will at last break out into a flame. +As festered members rot but by degree +Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away, +So will this base and envious discord breed. +And now I fear that fatal prophecy +Which in the time of Henry named the Fifth +Was in the mouth of every sucking babe: +That Henry born at Monmouth should win all, +And Henry born at Windsor should lose all, +Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish +His days may finish ere that hapless time. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Pucelle disguised, with four Soldiers with sacks +upon their backs.] + + +PUCELLE +These are the city gates, the gates of Roan, +Through which our policy must make a breach. +Take heed. Be wary how you place your words; +Talk like the vulgar sort of market men +That come to gather money for their corn. +If we have entrance, as I hope we shall, +And that we find the slothful watch but weak, +I'll by a sign give notice to our friends, +That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. + +SOLDIER +Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city, +And we be lords and rulers over Roan; +Therefore we'll knock. +[Knock.] + +WATCH, [within] +Qui la? + +PUCELLE Paysans la pauvre gens de France: +Poor market folks that come to sell their corn. + +WATCH +Enter, go in. The market bell is rung. + +PUCELLE, [aside] +Now, Roan, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanson, Reignier, +and Soldiers.] + + +CHARLES +Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem +And once again we'll sleep secure in Roan. + +BASTARD +Here entered Pucelle and her practisants. +Now she is there, how will she specify +"Here is the best and safest passage in"? + +REIGNIER +By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower, +Which, once discerned, shows that her meaning is: +No way to that, for weakness, which she entered. + +[Enter Pucelle on the top, thrusting out a torch burning.] + + +PUCELLE +Behold, this is the happy wedding torch +That joineth Roan unto her countrymen, +But burning fatal to the Talbonites. + +BASTARD +See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; +The burning torch, in yonder turret stands. + +CHARLES +Now shine it like a comet of revenge, +A prophet to the fall of all our foes! + +REIGNIER +Defer no time; delays have dangerous ends. +Enter and cry "The Dauphin!" presently, +And then do execution on the watch. +[Alarum. They exit.] + +[An Alarum. Enter Talbot in an excursion.] + + +TALBOT +France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, +If Talbot but survive thy treachery. +Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress, +Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, +That hardly we escaped the pride of France. +[He exits.] + +[An alarum. Excursions. Bedford brought in sick in +a chair, carried by two Attendants. Enter Talbot +and Burgundy without; within, Pucelle with a sack +of grain, Charles, Bastard, Alanson, and Reignier +on the walls.] + + +PUCELLE, [to those below] +Good morrow, gallants. Want you corn for bread? +[She scatters grain on those below.] +I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast +Before he'll buy again at such a rate. +'Twas full of darnel. Do you like the taste? + +BURGUNDY +Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtesan! +I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own, +And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. + +CHARLES +Your Grace may starve, perhaps, before that time. + +BEDFORD +O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason. + +PUCELLE +What will you do, good graybeard? Break a lance +And run a-tilt at Death within a chair? + +TALBOT +Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite, +Encompassed with thy lustful paramours, +Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age +And twit with cowardice a man half dead? +Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again, +Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. + +PUCELLE +Are you so hot, sir? Yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace, +If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow. +[Those below whisper together in council.] +God speed the Parliament! Who shall be the Speaker? + +TALBOT +Dare you come forth and meet us in the field? + +PUCELLE +Belike your Lordship takes us then for fools, +To try if that our own be ours or no. + +TALBOT +I speak not to that railing Hecate, +But unto thee, Alanson, and the rest. +Will you, like soldiers, come and fight it out? + +ALANSON Seigneur, no. + +TALBOT +Seigneur, hang! Base muleteers of France, +Like peasant footboys do they keep the walls +And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. + +PUCELLE +Away, captains. Let's get us from the walls, +For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.-- +Goodbye, my lord. We came but to tell you +That we are here. [They exit from the walls.] + +TALBOT +And there will we be too, ere it be long, +Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame.-- +Vow, Burgundy, by honor of thy house, +Pricked on by public wrongs sustained in France, +Either to get the town again or die. +And I, as sure as English Henry lives, +And as his father here was conqueror, +As sure as in this late-betrayed town +Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried, +So sure I swear to get the town or die. + +BURGUNDY +My vows are equal partners with thy vows. + +TALBOT +But, ere we go, regard this dying prince, +The valiant Duke of Bedford.--Come, my lord, +We will bestow you in some better place, +Fitter for sickness and for crazy age. + +BEDFORD +Lord Talbot, do not so dishonor me. +Here will I sit, before the walls of Roan, +And will be partner of your weal or woe. + +BURGUNDY +Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you-- + +BEDFORD +Not to be gone from hence, for once I read +That stout Pendragon, in his litter sick, +Came to the field and vanquished his foes. +Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts +Because I ever found them as myself. + +TALBOT +Undaunted spirit in a dying breast, +Then be it so. Heavens keep old Bedford safe!-- +And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, +But gather we our forces out of hand +And set upon our boasting enemy. +[He exits with Burgundy. +Bedford and Attendants remain.] + +[An alarum. Excursions. Enter Sir John Fastolf +and a Captain.] + + +CAPTAIN +Whither away, Sir John Fastolf, in such haste? + +FASTOLF +Whither away? To save myself by flight. +We are like to have the overthrow again. + +CAPTAIN +What, will you fly and leave Lord Talbot? + +FASTOLF Ay, +All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. +[He exits.] + +CAPTAIN +Cowardly knight, ill fortune follow thee. +[He exits.] + +[Retreat. Excursions. Pucelle, Alanson, and Charles +enter, pursued by English Soldiers, and fly.] + + +BEDFORD +Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please, +For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. +What is the trust or strength of foolish man? +They that of late were daring with their scoffs +Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. +[Bedford dies, and is carried +in by two in his chair.] + +[An alarum. Enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.] + + +TALBOT +Lost and recovered in a day again! +This is a double honor, Burgundy. +Yet heavens have glory for this victory. + +BURGUNDY +Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy +Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects +Thy noble deeds as valor's monuments. + +TALBOT +Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now? +I think her old familiar is asleep. +Now where's the Bastard's braves and Charles his +gleeks? +What, all amort? Roan hangs her head for grief +That such a valiant company are fled. +Now will we take some order in the town, +Placing therein some expert officers, +And then depart to Paris to the King, +For there young Henry with his nobles lie. + +BURGUNDY +What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. + +TALBOT +But yet, before we go, let's not forget +The noble Duke of Bedford late-deceased, +But see his exequies fulfilled in Roan. +A braver soldier never couched lance, +A gentler heart did never sway in court. +But kings and mightiest potentates must die, +For that's the end of human misery. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Charles, Bastard, Alanson, Pucelle, and Soldiers.] + + +PUCELLE +Dismay not, princes, at this accident, +Nor grieve that Roan is so recovered. +Care is no cure, but rather corrosive +For things that are not to be remedied. +Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while, +And like a peacock sweep along his tail; +We'll pull his plumes and take away his train, +If dauphin and the rest will be but ruled. + +CHARLES +We have been guided by thee hitherto, +And of thy cunning had no diffidence. +One sudden foil shall never breed distrust. + +BASTARD, [to Pucelle] +Search out thy wit for secret policies, +And we will make thee famous through the world. + +ALANSON, [to Pucelle] +We'll set thy statue in some holy place +And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint. +Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good. + +PUCELLE +Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise: +By fair persuasions mixed with sugared words +We will entice the Duke of Burgundy +To leave the Talbot and to follow us. + +CHARLES +Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, +France were no place for Henry's warriors, +Nor should that nation boast it so with us, +But be extirped from our provinces. + +ALANSON +Forever should they be expulsed from France, +And not have title of an earldom here. + +PUCELLE +Your honors shall perceive how I will work +To bring this matter to the wished end. +[Drum sounds afar off.] +Hark! By the sound of drum you may perceive +Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. +[Here sound an English march.] +There goes the Talbot with his colors spread, +And all the troops of English after him. +[French march.] +Now in the rearward comes the Duke and his. +Fortune in favor makes him lag behind. +Summon a parley; we will talk with him. +[Trumpets sound a parley.] + +CHARLES +A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! + +[Enter Burgundy.] + + +BURGUNDY +Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? + +PUCELLE +The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. + +BURGUNDY +What say'st thou, Charles?--for I am marching hence. + +CHARLES, [aside to Pucelle] +Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. + +PUCELLE +Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France, +Stay; let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. + +BURGUNDY +Speak on, but be not over-tedious. + +PUCELLE +Look on thy country, look on fertile France, +And see the cities and the towns defaced +By wasting ruin of the cruel foe. +As looks the mother on her lowly babe +When death doth close his tender-dying eyes, +See, see the pining malady of France: +Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, +Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast. +O, turn thy edged sword another way; +Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help. +One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom +Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore. +Return thee therefore with a flood of tears, +And wash away thy country's stained spots. + +BURGUNDY, [aside] +Either she hath bewitched me with her words, +Or nature makes me suddenly relent. + +PUCELLE +Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, +Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny. +Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation +That will not trust thee but for profit's sake? +When Talbot hath set footing once in France +And fashioned thee that instrument of ill, +Who then but English Henry will be lord, +And thou be thrust out like a fugitive? +Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof: +Was not the Duke of Orleance thy foe? +And was he not in England prisoner? +But when they heard he was thine enemy, +They set him free, without his ransom paid, +In spite of Burgundy and all his friends. +See then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen, +And join'st with them will be thy slaughtermen. +Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord. +Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms. + +BURGUNDY, [aside] +I am vanquished. These haughty words of hers +Have battered me like roaring cannon-shot, +And made me almost yield upon my knees.-- +Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen; +And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace. +[He embraces Charles, Bastard, and Alanson.] +My forces and my power of men are yours. +So, farewell, Talbot. I'll no longer trust thee. + +PUCELLE, [aside] +Done like a Frenchman: turn and turn again. + +CHARLES +Welcome, brave duke. Thy friendship makes us fresh. + +BASTARD +And doth beget new courage in our breasts. + +ALANSON +Pucelle hath bravely played her part in this +And doth deserve a coronet of gold. + +CHARLES +Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers, +And seek how we may prejudice the foe. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Flourish. Enter the King, Gloucester, Winchester, +Exeter; York, Warwick, and Vernon, with white roses; +Somerset, Suffolk, and Basset, with red roses. +To them, with his Soldiers, Talbot.] + + +TALBOT +My gracious prince and honorable peers, +Hearing of your arrival in this realm, +I have awhile given truce unto my wars +To do my duty to my sovereign; +In sign whereof, this arm, that hath reclaimed +To your obedience fifty fortresses, +Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength, +Besides five hundred prisoners of esteem, +Lets fall his sword before your Highness' feet, +And with submissive loyalty of heart +Ascribes the glory of his conquest got +First to my God, and next unto your Grace. +[He kneels.] + +KING HENRY +Is this the Lord Talbot, Uncle Gloucester, +That hath so long been resident in France? + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, if it please your Majesty, my liege. + +KING HENRY +Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord. +When I was young--as yet I am not old-- +I do remember how my father said +A stouter champion never handled sword. +Long since we were resolved of your truth, +Your faithful service, and your toil in war; +Yet never have you tasted our reward +Or been reguerdoned with so much as thanks, +Because till now we never saw your face. +Therefore stand up; and for these good deserts +We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury; +And in our coronation take your place. [Talbot rises.] +[Sennet. Flourish. All except +Vernon and Basset exit.] + +VERNON +Now, sir, to you that were so hot at sea, +Disgracing of these colors that I wear +In honor of my noble Lord of York, +Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st? + +BASSET +Yes, sir, as well as you dare patronage +The envious barking of your saucy tongue +Against my lord the Duke of Somerset. + +VERNON +Sirrah, thy lord I honor as he is. + +BASSET +Why, what is he? As good a man as York. + +VERNON +Hark you, not so; in witness, take you that. +[Strikes him.] + +BASSET +Villain, thou knowest the law of arms is such +That whoso draws a sword 'tis present death, +Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. +But I'll unto his Majesty, and crave +I may have liberty to venge this wrong, +When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost. +[He exits.] + +VERNON +Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you, +And after meet you sooner than you would. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King, Gloucester, Winchester, Talbot, +Exeter; York and Warwick, with white roses; Suffolk +and Somerset, with red roses; Governor of Paris, +and Others.] + + +GLOUCESTER +Lord Bishop, set the crown upon his head. + +WINCHESTER, [crowning King Henry] +God save King Henry, of that name the Sixth! + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath. +[Governor kneels.] +That you elect no other king but him; +Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, +And none your foes but such as shall pretend +Malicious practices against his state: +This shall you do, so help you righteous God. +[Governor rises.] + +[Enter Fastolf.] + + +FASTOLF +My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Callice +To haste unto your coronation, +A letter was delivered to my hands, +Writ to your Grace from th' Duke of Burgundy. +[He hands the King a paper.] + +TALBOT +Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! +I vowed, base knight, when I did meet thee next, +To tear the Garter from thy craven's leg, +[tearing it off] +Which I have done, because unworthily +Thou wast installed in that high degree.-- +Pardon me, princely Henry and the rest. +This dastard, at the battle of Patay, +When but in all I was six thousand strong +And that the French were almost ten to one, +Before we met or that a stroke was given, +Like to a trusty squire did run away; +In which assault we lost twelve hundred men. +Myself and divers gentlemen besides +Were there surprised and taken prisoners. +Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss, +Or whether that such cowards ought to wear +This ornament of knighthood--yea or no? + +GLOUCESTER +To say the truth, this fact was infamous +And ill beseeming any common man, +Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader. + +TALBOT +When first this Order was ordained, my lords, +Knights of the Garter were of noble birth, +Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage, +Such as were grown to credit by the wars; +Not fearing death nor shrinking for distress, +But always resolute in most extremes. +He then that is not furnished in this sort +Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, +Profaning this most honorable Order, +And should, if I were worthy to be judge, +Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain +That doth presume to boast of gentle blood. + +KING HENRY, [to Fastolf] +Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom. +Be packing therefore, thou that wast a knight. +Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death. +[Fastolf exits.] +And now, my lord protector, view the letter +Sent from our uncle, Duke of Burgundy. +[He hands the paper to Gloucester.] + +GLOUCESTER +What means his Grace that he hath changed his style? +No more but, plain and bluntly, "To the King"! +Hath he forgot he is his sovereign? +Or doth this churlish superscription +Pretend some alteration in good will? +What's here? [(Reads.)] +I have upon especial cause, +Moved with compassion of my country's wrack, +Together with the pitiful complaints +Of such as your oppression feeds upon, +Forsaken your pernicious faction +And joined with Charles, the rightful king of France. +O monstrous treachery! Can this be so? +That in alliance, amity, and oaths +There should be found such false dissembling guile? + +KING HENRY +What? Doth my Uncle Burgundy revolt? + +GLOUCESTER +He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. + +KING HENRY +Is that the worst this letter doth contain? + +GLOUCESTER +It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes. + +KING HENRY +Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him +And give him chastisement for this abuse.-- +How say you, my lord, are you not content? + +TALBOT +Content, my liege? Yes. But that I am prevented, +I should have begged I might have been employed. + +KING HENRY +Then gather strength and march unto him straight; +Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason +And what offense it is to flout his friends. + +TALBOT +I go, my lord, in heart desiring still +You may behold confusion of your foes. [He exits.] + +[Enter Vernon, with a white rose, and Basset, +with a red rose.] + + +VERNON +Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign. + +BASSET +And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. + +YORK, [indicating Vernon] +This is my servant; hear him, noble prince. + +SOMERSET, [indicating Basset] +And this is mine, sweet Henry; favor him. + +KING HENRY +Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak.-- +Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim, +And wherefore crave you combat, or with whom? + +VERNON +With him, my lord, for he hath done me wrong. + +BASSET +And I with him, for he hath done me wrong. + +KING HENRY +What is that wrong whereof you both complain? +First let me know, and then I'll answer you. + +BASSET +Crossing the sea from England into France, +This fellow here with envious carping tongue +Upbraided me about the rose I wear, +Saying the sanguine color of the leaves +Did represent my master's blushing cheeks +When stubbornly he did repugn the truth +About a certain question in the law +Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him, +With other vile and ignominious terms. +In confutation of which rude reproach, +And in defense of my lord's worthiness, +I crave the benefit of law of arms. + +VERNON +And that is my petition, noble lord; +For though he seem with forged quaint conceit +To set a gloss upon his bold intent, +Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him, +And he first took exceptions at this badge, +Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower +Bewrayed the faintness of my master's heart. + +YORK +Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? + +SOMERSET +Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, +Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. + +KING HENRY +Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men +When for so slight and frivolous a cause +Such factious emulations shall arise! +Good cousins both, of York and Somerset, +Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace. + +YORK +Let this dissension first be tried by fight, +And then your Highness shall command a peace. + +SOMERSET +The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; +Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then. + +YORK, [throwing down a gage] +There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. + +VERNON, [to Somerset] +Nay, let it rest where it began at first. + +BASSET, [to Somerset] +Confirm it so, mine honorable lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife, +And perish you with your audacious prate! +Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed +With this immodest clamorous outrage +To trouble and disturb the King and us?-- +And you, my lords, methinks you do not well +To bear with their perverse objections, +Much less to take occasion from their mouths +To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves. +Let me persuade you take a better course. + +EXETER +It grieves his Highness. Good my lords, be friends. + +KING HENRY +Come hither, you that would be combatants: +Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favor, +Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.-- +And you, my lords, remember where we are: +In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation. +If they perceive dissension in our looks, +And that within ourselves we disagree, +How will their grudging stomachs be provoked +To willful disobedience and rebel! +Besides, what infamy will there arise +When foreign princes shall be certified +That for a toy, a thing of no regard, +King Henry's peers and chief nobility +Destroyed themselves and lost the realm of France! +O, think upon the conquest of my father, +My tender years, and let us not forgo +That for a trifle that was bought with blood. +Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife. +I see no reason if I wear this rose +That anyone should therefore be suspicious +I more incline to Somerset than York. +[He puts on a red rose.] +Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both. +As well they may upbraid me with my crown +Because, forsooth, the King of Scots is crowned. +But your discretions better can persuade +Than I am able to instruct or teach; +And therefore, as we hither came in peace, +So let us still continue peace and love. +Cousin of York, we institute your Grace +To be our regent in these parts of France;-- +And good my Lord of Somerset, unite +Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot; +And like true subjects, sons of your progenitors, +Go cheerfully together and digest +Your angry choler on your enemies. +Ourself, my lord protector, and the rest, +After some respite, will return to Callice; +From thence to England, where I hope ere long +To be presented, by your victories, +With Charles, Alanson, and that traitorous rout. +[Flourish. All but York, Warwick, Exeter, Vernon exit.] + +WARWICK +My Lord of York, I promise you the King +Prettily, methought, did play the orator. + +YORK +And so he did, but yet I like it not +In that he wears the badge of Somerset. + +WARWICK +Tush, that was but his fancy; blame him not. +I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. + +YORK +And if iwis he did--but let it rest. +Other affairs must now be managed. + +[York, Warwick and Vernon exit. +Exeter remains.] + +EXETER +Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice, +For had the passions of thy heart burst out, +I fear we should have seen deciphered there +More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils, +Than yet can be imagined or supposed. +But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees +This jarring discord of nobility, +This shouldering of each other in the court, +This factious bandying of their favorites, +But sees it doth presage some ill event. +'Tis much when scepters are in children's hands, +But more when envy breeds unkind division: +There comes the ruin; there begins confusion. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Talbot with Soldiers and Trump and Drum +before Bordeaux.] + + +TALBOT +Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter. +Summon their general unto the wall. + +[Trumpet sounds. Enter General and Others aloft.] + +English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth, +Servant-in-arms to Harry, King of England, +And thus he would: open your city gates, +Be humble to us, call my sovereign yours, +And do him homage as obedient subjects, +And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power. +But if you frown upon this proffered peace, +You tempt the fury of my three attendants, +Lean Famine, quartering Steel, and climbing Fire, +Who, in a moment, even with the earth +Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers, +If you forsake the offer of their love. + +GENERAL +Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, +Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge, +The period of thy tyranny approacheth. +On us thou canst not enter but by death; +For I protest we are well fortified +And strong enough to issue out and fight. +If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed, +Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee. +On either hand thee, there are squadrons pitched +To wall thee from the liberty of flight; +And no way canst thou turn thee for redress +But Death doth front thee with apparent spoil, +And pale Destruction meets thee in the face. +Ten thousand French have ta'en the Sacrament +To rive their dangerous artillery +Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot. +Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man +Of an invincible unconquered spirit. +This is the latest glory of thy praise +That I, thy enemy, due thee withal; +For ere the glass that now begins to run +Finish the process of his sandy hour, +These eyes, that see thee now well-colored, +Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead. +[Drum afar off.] +Hark, hark, the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell, +Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul, +And mine shall ring thy dire departure out. +[He exits, aloft, with Others.] + +TALBOT +He fables not; I hear the enemy. +Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings. +[Some Soldiers exit.] +O, negligent and heedless discipline, +How are we parked and bounded in a pale, +A little herd of England's timorous deer +Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs. +If we be English deer, be then in blood, +Not rascal-like to fall down with a pinch, +But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags, +Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel +And make the cowards stand aloof at bay. +Sell every man his life as dear as mine +And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends. +God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right, +Prosper our colors in this dangerous fight! +[He exits with Soldiers, Drum and Trumpet.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter a Messenger that meets York. Enter York +with Trumpet and many Soldiers.] + + +YORK +Are not the speedy scouts returned again +That dogged the mighty army of the Dauphin? + +MESSENGER +They are returned, my lord, and give it out +That he is marched to Bordeaux with his power +To fight with Talbot. As he marched along, +By your espials were discovered +Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led, +Which joined with him and made their march for +Bordeaux. [He exits.] + +YORK +A plague upon that villain Somerset +That thus delays my promised supply +Of horsemen that were levied for this siege! +Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid, +And I am louted by a traitor villain +And cannot help the noble chevalier. +God comfort him in this necessity. +If he miscarry, farewell wars in France. + +[Enter Sir William Lucy.] + + +LUCY +Thou princely leader of our English strength, +Never so needful on the earth of France, +Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot, +Who now is girdled with a waist of iron +And hemmed about with grim destruction. +To Bordeaux, warlike duke! To Bordeaux, York! +Else farewell Talbot, France, and England's honor. + +YORK +O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart +Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place! +So should we save a valiant gentleman +By forfeiting a traitor and a coward. +Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep +That thus we die while remiss traitors sleep. + +LUCY +O, send some succor to the distressed lord! + +YORK +He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word; +We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get, +All long of this vile traitor Somerset. + +LUCY +Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul, +And on his son, young John, who two hours since +I met in travel toward his warlike father. +This seven years did not Talbot see his son, +And now they meet where both their lives are done. + +YORK +Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have +To bid his young son welcome to his grave? +Away! Vexation almost stops my breath, +That sundered friends greet in the hour of death. +Lucy, farewell. No more my fortune can +But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. +Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours are won away, +Long all of Somerset and his delay. +[York and his Soldiers exit.] + +LUCY +Thus while the vulture of sedition +Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, +Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss +The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror, +That ever-living man of memory, +Henry the Fifth. Whiles they each other cross, +Lives, honors, lands, and all hurry to loss. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Somerset with his army and a Captain +from Talbot's army.] + + +SOMERSET +It is too late; I cannot send them now. +This expedition was by York and Talbot +Too rashly plotted. All our general force +Might with a sally of the very town +Be buckled with. The overdaring Talbot +Hath sullied all his gloss of former honor +By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure. +York set him on to fight and die in shame +That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name. + +[Enter Sir William Lucy.] + + +CAPTAIN +Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me +Set from our o'er-matched forces forth for aid. + +SOMERSET +How now, Sir William, whither were you sent? + +LUCY +Whither, my lord? From bought and sold Lord Talbot, +Who, ringed about with bold adversity, +Cries out for noble York and Somerset +To beat assailing Death from his weak regions; +And whiles the honorable captain there +Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs +And, in advantage ling'ring, looks for rescue, +You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor, +Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. +Let not your private discord keep away +The levied succors that should lend him aid, +While he, renowned noble gentleman, +Yield up his life unto a world of odds. +Orleance the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy, +Alanson, Reignier compass him about, +And Talbot perisheth by your default. + +SOMERSET +York set him on; York should have sent him aid. + +LUCY +And York as fast upon your Grace exclaims, +Swearing that you withhold his levied host +Collected for this expedition. + +SOMERSET +York lies. He might have sent and had the horse. +I owe him little duty and less love, +And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending. + +LUCY +The fraud of England, not the force of France, +Hath now entrapped the noble-minded Talbot. +Never to England shall he bear his life, +But dies betrayed to fortune by your strife. + +SOMERSET +Come, go. I will dispatch the horsemen straight. +Within six hours they will be at his aid. + +LUCY +Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or slain, +For fly he could not if he would have fled; +And fly would Talbot never, though he might. + +SOMERSET +If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu. + +LUCY +His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Talbot and John Talbot, his son.] + + +TALBOT +O young John Talbot, I did send for thee +To tutor thee in stratagems of war, +That Talbot's name might be in thee revived +When sapless age and weak unable limbs +Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. +But--O, malignant and ill-boding stars!-- +Now thou art come unto a feast of Death, +A terrible and unavoided danger. +Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse, +And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape +By sudden flight. Come, dally not, be gone. + +JOHN TALBOT +Is my name Talbot? And am I your son? +And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother, +Dishonor not her honorable name +To make a bastard and a slave of me! +The world will say "He is not Talbot's blood, +That basely fled when noble Talbot stood." + +TALBOT +Fly, to revenge my death if I be slain. + +JOHN TALBOT +He that flies so will ne'er return again. + +TALBOT +If we both stay, we both are sure to die. + +JOHN TALBOT +Then let me stay and, father, do you fly. +Your loss is great; so your regard should be. +My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. +Upon my death, the French can little boast; +In yours they will; in you all hopes are lost. +Flight cannot stain the honor you have won, +But mine it will, that no exploit have done. +You fled for vantage, everyone will swear; +But if I bow, they'll say it was for fear. +There is no hope that ever I will stay +If the first hour I shrink and run away. [He kneels.] +Here on my knee I beg mortality, +Rather than life preserved with infamy. + +TALBOT +Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? + +JOHN TALBOT +Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb. + +TALBOT +Upon my blessing I command thee go. + +JOHN TALBOT +To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. + +TALBOT +Part of thy father may be saved in thee. + +JOHN TALBOT +No part of him but will be shame in me. + +TALBOT +Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it. + +JOHN TALBOT +Yes, your renowned name; shall flight abuse it? + +TALBOT +Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain. + +JOHN TALBOT +You cannot witness for me, being slain. +If death be so apparent, then both fly. + +TALBOT +And leave my followers here to fight and die? +My age was never tainted with such shame. + +JOHN TALBOT +And shall my youth be guilty of such blame? +[He rises.] +No more can I be severed from your side +Than can yourself yourself in twain divide. +Stay, go, do what you will; the like do I, +For live I will not, if my father die. + +TALBOT +Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, +Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon. +Come, side by side, together live and die, +And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions, wherein Talbot's son John +is hemmed about, and Talbot rescues him.] + + +TALBOT +Saint George, and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight! +The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word +And left us to the rage of France his sword. +Where is John Talbot?--Pause, and take thy breath; +I gave thee life and rescued thee from death. + +JOHN TALBOT +O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! +The life thou gav'st me first was lost and done +Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, +To my determined time thou gav'st new date. + +TALBOT +When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire, +It warmed thy father's heart with proud desire +Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, +Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, +Beat down Alanson, Orleance, Burgundy, +And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. +The ireful Bastard Orleance, that drew blood +From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood +Of thy first fight, I soon encountered, +And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed +Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace +Bespoke him thus: "Contaminated, base, +And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, +Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine +Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy." +Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, +Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care: +Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? +Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, +Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? +Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead; +The help of one stands me in little stead. +O, too much folly is it, well I wot, +To hazard all our lives in one small boat. +If I today die not with Frenchmen's rage, +Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age. +By me they nothing gain, and, if I stay, +'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day. +In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, +My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame. +All these and more we hazard by thy stay; +All these are saved if thou wilt fly away. + +JOHN TALBOT +The sword of Orleance hath not made me smart; +These words of yours draw lifeblood from my heart. +On that advantage, bought with such a shame, +To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, +Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, +The coward horse that bears me fall and die! +And like me to the peasant boys of France, +To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance! +Surely, by all the glory you have won, +An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son. +Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; +If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot. + +TALBOT +Then follow thou thy desp'rate sire of Crete, +Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. +If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side, +And commendable proved, let's die in pride. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter old Talbot +led by a Servant.] + + +TALBOT +Where is my other life? Mine own is gone. +O, where's young Talbot? Where is valiant John? +Triumphant Death, smeared with captivity, +Young Talbot's valor makes me smile at thee. +When he perceived me shrink and on my knee, +His bloody sword he brandished over me, +And like a hungry lion did commence +Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience; +But when my angry guardant stood alone, +Tend'ring my ruin and assailed of none, +Dizzy-eyed fury and great rage of heart +Suddenly made him from my side to start +Into the clust'ring battle of the French; +And in that sea of blood, my boy did drench +His over-mounting spirit; and there died +My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride. + +[Enter Soldiers with John Talbot, borne.] + + +SERVINGMAN +O, my dear lord, lo where your son is borne! + +TALBOT +Thou antic Death, which laugh'st us here to scorn, +Anon from thy insulting tyranny, +Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, +Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, +In thy despite shall scape mortality.-- +O, thou whose wounds become hard-favored Death, +Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath! +Brave Death by speaking, whither he will or no. +Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe.-- +Poor boy, he smiles, methinks, as who should say +"Had Death been French, then Death had died +today."-- +Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms; +My spirit can no longer bear these harms. +Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have, +Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. +[Dies.] +[Alarums. Soldiers exit.] + +[Enter Charles, Alanson, Burgundy, Bastard, +and Pucelle, with Forces.] + + +CHARLES +Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, +We should have found a bloody day of this. + +BASTARD +How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging wood, +Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! + +PUCELLE +Once I encountered him, and thus I said: +"Thou maiden youth, be vanquished by a maid." +But with a proud majestical high scorn +He answered thus: "Young Talbot was not born +To be the pillage of a giglot wench." +So, rushing in the bowels of the French, +He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. + +BURGUNDY +Doubtless he would have made a noble knight. +See where he lies inhearsed in the arms +Of the most bloody nurser of his harms. + +BASTARD +Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder, +Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. + +CHARLES +O, no, forbear! For that which we have fled +During the life, let us not wrong it dead. + +[Enter Lucy with Attendants and a French Herald.] + + +LUCY +Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent, +To know who hath obtained the glory of the day. + +CHARLES +On what submissive message art thou sent? + +LUCY +Submission, dauphin? 'Tis a mere French word. +We English warriors wot not what it means. +I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en, +And to survey the bodies of the dead. + +CHARLES +For prisoners askst thou? Hell our prison is. +But tell me whom thou seek'st. + +LUCY +But where's the great Alcides of the field, +Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, +Created for his rare success in arms +Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence, +Lord Talbot of Goodrich and Urchinfield, +Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdon of Alton, +Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of +Sheffield, +The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge, +Knight of the noble Order of Saint George, +Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece, +Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth +Of all his wars within the realm of France? + +PUCELLE +Here's a silly stately style indeed. +The Turk, that two-and-fifty kingdoms hath, +Writes not so tedious a style as this. +Him that thou magnifi'st with all these titles +Stinking and flyblown lies here at our feet. + +LUCY +Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge, +Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis? +O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turned +That I in rage might shoot them at your faces! +O, that I could but call these dead to life, +It were enough to fright the realm of France. +Were but his picture left amongst you here, +It would amaze the proudest of you all. +Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence +And give them burial as beseems their worth. + +PUCELLE +I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, +He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. +For God's sake, let him have him. To keep them here, +They would but stink and putrefy the air. + +CHARLES +Go, take their bodies hence. + +LUCY I'll bear them hence. +But from their ashes shall be reared +A phoenix that shall make all France afeard. + +CHARLES +So we be rid of them, do with him what thou wilt. +[Lucy, Servant, and Attendants exit, +bearing the bodies.] +And now to Paris in this conquering vein. +All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Sennet. Enter King, Gloucester, and Exeter, +with Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY, [to Gloucester] +Have you perused the letters from the Pope, +The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac? + +GLOUCESTER +I have, my lord, and their intent is this: +They humbly sue unto your Excellence +To have a godly peace concluded of +Between the realms of England and of France. + +KING HENRY +How doth your Grace affect their motion? + +GLOUCESTER +Well, my good lord, and as the only means +To stop effusion of our Christian blood +And stablish quietness on every side. + +KING HENRY +Ay, marry, uncle, for I always thought +It was both impious and unnatural +That such immanity and bloody strife +Should reign among professors of one faith. + +GLOUCESTER +Besides, my lord, the sooner to effect +And surer bind this knot of amity, +The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles, +A man of great authority in France, +Proffers his only daughter to your Grace +In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry. + +KING HENRY +Marriage, uncle? Alas, my years are young; +And fitter is my study and my books +Than wanton dalliance with a paramour. +Yet call th' Ambassadors and, as you please, +So let them have their answers every one. +[An Attendant exits.] +I shall be well content with any choice +Tends to God's glory and my country's weal. + +[Enter Winchester, dressed in cardinal's robes, +and the Ambassador of Armagnac, a Papal Legate, +and another Ambassador.] + + +EXETER, [aside] +What, is my Lord of Winchester installed +And called unto a cardinal's degree? +Then I perceive that will be verified +Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy: +"If once he come to be a cardinal, +He'll make his cap coequal with the crown." + +KING HENRY +My Lords Ambassadors, your several suits +Have been considered and debated on; +Your purpose is both good and reasonable, +And therefore are we certainly resolved +To draw conditions of a friendly peace, +Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean +Shall be transported presently to France. + +GLOUCESTER, [to the Ambassador of Armagnac] +And for the proffer of my lord your master, +I have informed his Highness so at large +As, liking of the lady's virtuous gifts, +Her beauty, and the value of her dower, +He doth intend she shall be England's queen. + +KING HENRY, [handing a jewel to the Ambassador] +In argument and proof of which contract, +Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.-- +And so, my Lord Protector, see them guarded +And safely brought to Dover, where, inshipped, +Commit them to the fortune of the sea. +[All except Winchester and Legate exit.] + +WINCHESTER +Stay, my Lord Legate; you shall first receive +The sum of money which I promised +Should be delivered to his Holiness +For clothing me in these grave ornaments. + +LEGATE +I will attend upon your Lordship's leisure. [He exits.] + +WINCHESTER +Now Winchester will not submit, I trow, +Or be inferior to the proudest peer. +Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive +That neither in birth or for authority +The Bishop will be overborne by thee. +I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee, +Or sack this country with a mutiny. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Charles, Burgundy, Alanson, Bastard, +Reignier, and Joan la Pucelle, with Soldiers.] + + +CHARLES +These news, my lords, may cheer our drooping spirits: +'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt +And turn again unto the warlike French. + +ALANSON +Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, +And keep not back your powers in dalliance. + +PUCELLE +Peace be amongst them if they turn to us; +Else ruin combat with their palaces! + +[Enter Scout.] + + +SCOUT +Success unto our valiant general, +And happiness to his accomplices. + +CHARLES +What tidings send our scouts? I prithee speak. + +SCOUT +The English army that divided was +Into two parties is now conjoined in one, +And means to give you battle presently. + +CHARLES +Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is, +But we will presently provide for them. + +BURGUNDY +I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there. +Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear. + +PUCELLE +Of all base passions, fear is most accursed. +Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine; +Let Henry fret and all the world repine. + +CHARLES +Then on, my lords, and France be fortunate! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Joan la Pucelle.] + + +PUCELLE +The Regent conquers and the Frenchmen fly. +Now help, you charming spells and periapts, +And you choice spirits that admonish me, +And give me signs of future accidents. [Thunder.] +You speedy helpers, that are substitutes +Under the lordly monarch of the north, +Appear, and aid me in this enterprise. + +[Enter Fiends.] + +This speed and quick appearance argues proof +Of your accustomed diligence to me. +Now, you familiar spirits that are culled +Out of the powerful regions under earth, +Help me this once, that France may get the field. +[They walk, and speak not.] +O, hold me not with silence overlong! +Where I was wont to feed you with my blood, +I'll lop a member off and give it you +In earnest of a further benefit, +So you do condescend to help me now. +[They hang their heads.] +No hope to have redress? My body shall +Pay recompense if you will grant my suit. +[They shake their heads.] +Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice +Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? +Then take my soul--my body, soul, and all-- +Before that England give the French the foil. +[They depart.] +See, they forsake me. Now the time is come +That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest +And let her head fall into England's lap. +My ancient incantations are too weak, +And hell too strong for me to buckle with. +Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust. +[She exits.] + +[Excursions. Burgundy and York fight hand to hand. +Burgundy and the French fly as York and English +soldiers capture Joan la Pucelle.] + + +YORK +Damsel of France, I think I have you fast. +Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms, +And try if they can gain your liberty. +A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace! +See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows +As if with Circe she would change my shape. + +PUCELLE +Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be. + +YORK +O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man; +No shape but his can please your dainty eye. + +PUCELLE +A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee, +And may you both be suddenly surprised +By bloody hands in sleeping on your beds! + +YORK +Fell banning hag! Enchantress, hold thy tongue. + +PUCELLE +I prithee give me leave to curse awhile. + +YORK +Curse, miscreant, when thou com'st to the stake. +[They exit.] + +[Alarum. Enter Suffolk with Margaret in his hand.] + + +SUFFOLK +Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner. +[Gazes on her.] +O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly, +For I will touch thee but with reverent hands. +I kiss these fingers for eternal peace +And lay them gently on thy tender side. +Who art thou? Say, that I may honor thee. + +MARGARET +Margaret my name, and daughter to a king, +The King of Naples, whosoe'er thou art. + +SUFFOLK +An earl I am, and Suffolk am I called. +Be not offended, nature's miracle; +Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me. +So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, +Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings. +Yet if this servile usage once offend, +Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend. +[She is going.] +O, stay! [(Aside.)] I have no power to let her pass. +My hand would free her, but my heart says no. +As plays the sun upon the glassy streams, +Twinkling another counterfeited beam, +So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. +Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak. +I'll call for pen and ink and write my mind. +Fie, de la Pole, disable not thyself! +Hast not a tongue? Is she not here? +Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? +Ay. Beauty's princely majesty is such +Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough. + +MARGARET +Say, Earl of Suffolk, if thy name be so, +What ransom must I pay before I pass? +For I perceive I am thy prisoner. + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit +Before thou make a trial of her love? + +MARGARET +Why speak'st thou not? What ransom must I pay? + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; +She is a woman, therefore to be won. + +MARGARET +Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea or no? + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife; +Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? + +MARGARET, [aside] +I were best to leave him, for he will not hear. + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +There all is marred; there lies a cooling card. + +MARGARET, [aside] +He talks at random; sure the man is mad. + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +And yet a dispensation may be had. + +MARGARET +And yet I would that you would answer me. + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom? +Why, for my king. Tush, that's a wooden thing! + +MARGARET, [aside] +He talks of wood. It is some carpenter. + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +Yet so my fancy may be satisfied, +And peace established between these realms. +But there remains a scruple in that, too; +For though her father be the King of Naples, +Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor, +And our nobility will scorn the match. + +MARGARET +Hear you, captain? Are you not at leisure? + +SUFFOLK, [aside] +It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much. +Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.-- +Madam, I have a secret to reveal. + +MARGARET, [aside] +What though I be enthralled, he seems a knight, +And will not any way dishonor me. + +SUFFOLK +Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say. + +MARGARET, [aside] +Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French, +And then I need not crave his courtesy. + +SUFFOLK +Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause. + +MARGARET, [aside] +Tush, women have been captivate ere now. + +SUFFOLK +Lady, wherefore talk you so? + +MARGARET +I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. + +SUFFOLK +Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose +Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? + +MARGARET +To be a queen in bondage is more vile +Than is a slave in base servility, +For princes should be free. + +SUFFOLK And so shall you, +If happy England's royal king be free. + +MARGARET +Why, what concerns his freedom unto me? + +SUFFOLK +I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen, +To put a golden scepter in thy hand +And set a precious crown upon thy head, +If thou wilt condescend to be my-- + +MARGARET What? + +SUFFOLK His love. + +MARGARET +I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. + +SUFFOLK +No, gentle madam, I unworthy am +To woo so fair a dame to be his wife, +And have no portion in the choice myself. +How say you, madam? Are you so content? + +MARGARET +An if my father please, I am content. + +SUFFOLK +Then call our captains and our colors forth! +[A Soldier exits.] +And, madam, at your father's castle walls +We'll crave a parley to confer with him. + +[Enter Captains and Trumpets. Sound a parley.] +[Enter Reignier on the walls.] + +See, Reignier, see thy daughter prisoner! + +REIGNIER +To whom? + +SUFFOLK To me. + +REIGNIER Suffolk, what remedy? +I am a soldier and unapt to weep +Or to exclaim on Fortune's fickleness. + +SUFFOLK +Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord: +Consent, and, for thy Honor give consent, +Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king, +Whom I with pain have wooed and won thereto; +And this her easy-held imprisonment +Hath gained thy daughter princely liberty. + +REIGNIER +Speaks Suffolk as he thinks? + +SUFFOLK Fair Margaret knows +That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign. + +REIGNIER +Upon thy princely warrant, I descend +To give thee answer of thy just demand. +[He exits from the walls.] + +SUFFOLK +And here I will expect thy coming. + +[Trumpets sound. Enter Reignier, below.] + + +REIGNIER +Welcome, brave earl, into our territories. +Command in Anjou what your Honor pleases. + +SUFFOLK +Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child, +Fit to be made companion with a king. +What answer makes your Grace unto my suit? + +REIGNIER +Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth +To be the princely bride of such a lord, +Upon condition I may quietly +Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou, +Free from oppression or the stroke of war, +My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please. + +SUFFOLK +That is her ransom; I deliver her, +And those two counties I will undertake +Your Grace shall well and quietly enjoy. + +REIGNIER +And I, again in Henry's royal name +As deputy unto that gracious king, +Give thee her hand for sign of plighted faith. + +SUFFOLK +Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks +Because this is in traffic of a king. +[Aside.] And yet methinks I could be well content +To be mine own attorney in this case.-- +I'll over then to England with this news, +And make this marriage to be solemnized. +So farewell, Reignier; set this diamond safe +In golden palaces, as it becomes. + +REIGNIER, [embracing Suffolk] +I do embrace thee, as I would embrace +The Christian prince King Henry, were he here. + +MARGARET, [to Suffolk] +Farewell, my lord; good wishes, praise, and prayers +Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret. +[She is going, as Reignier exits.] + +SUFFOLK +Farewell, sweet madam. But, hark you, Margaret, +No princely commendations to my king? + +MARGARET +Such commendations as becomes a maid, +A virgin, and his servant, say to him. + +SUFFOLK +Words sweetly placed and modestly directed. +But, madam, I must trouble you again: +No loving token to his Majesty? + +MARGARET +Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart, +Never yet taint with love, I send the King. + +SUFFOLK And this withal. [Kiss her.] + +MARGARET +That for thyself. I will not so presume +To send such peevish tokens to a king. [She exits.] + +SUFFOLK +O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay. +Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth. +There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk. +Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise; +Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount +And natural graces that extinguish art; +Repeat their semblance often on the seas, +That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, +Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter York, Warwick, Shepherd, +and Pucelle, guarded.] + + +YORK +Bring forth that sorceress condemned to burn. + +SHEPHERD +Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright. +Have I sought every country far and near, +And, now it is my chance to find thee out, +Must I behold thy timeless cruel death? +Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee. + +PUCELLE +Decrepit miser, base ignoble wretch! +I am descended of a gentler blood. +Thou art no father nor no friend of mine. + +SHEPHERD +Out, out!--My lords, an please you, 'tis not so! +I did beget her, all the parish knows; +Her mother liveth yet, can testify +She was the first fruit of my bach'lorship. + +WARWICK +Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage? + +YORK +This argues what her kind of life hath been, +Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. + +SHEPHERD +Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle! +God knows thou art a collop of my flesh, +And for thy sake have I shed many a tear. +Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan. + +PUCELLE +Peasant, avaunt!--You have suborned this man +Of purpose to obscure my noble birth. + +SHEPHERD +'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest +The morn that I was wedded to her mother.-- +Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl. +Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time +Of thy nativity! I would the milk +Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'dst her +breast +Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake! +Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield, +I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee! +Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab? +O burn her, burn her! Hanging is too good. [He exits.] + +YORK +Take her away, for she hath lived too long +To fill the world with vicious qualities. + +PUCELLE +First, let me tell you whom you have condemned: +Not one begotten of a shepherd swain, +But issued from the progeny of kings, +Virtuous and holy, chosen from above +By inspiration of celestial grace +To work exceeding miracles on earth. +I never had to do with wicked spirits. +But you, that are polluted with your lusts, +Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents, +Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices, +Because you want the grace that others have, +You judge it straight a thing impossible +To compass wonders but by help of devils. +No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been +A virgin from her tender infancy, +Chaste and immaculate in very thought, +Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused, +Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven. + +YORK +Ay, ay.--Away with her to execution. + +WARWICK +And hark you, sirs: because she is a maid, +Spare for no faggots; let there be enow. +Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake +That so her torture may be shortened. + +PUCELLE +Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts? +Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity, +That warranteth by law to be thy privilege: +I am with child, you bloody homicides. +Murder not then the fruit within my womb, +Although you hale me to a violent death. + +YORK +Now heaven forfend, the holy maid with child? + +WARWICK, [to Pucelle] +The greatest miracle that e'er you wrought! +Is all your strict preciseness come to this? + +YORK +She and the Dauphin have been juggling. +I did imagine what would be her refuge. + +WARWICK +Well, go to, we'll have no bastards live, +Especially since Charles must father it. + +PUCELLE +You are deceived; my child is none of his. +It was Alanson that enjoyed my love. + +YORK +Alanson, that notorious Machiavel? +It dies an if it had a thousand lives! + +PUCELLE +O, give me leave! I have deluded you. +'Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I named, +But Reignier, King of Naples, that prevailed. + +WARWICK +A married man? That's most intolerable. + +YORK +Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well-- +There were so many--whom she may accuse. + +WARWICK +It's sign she hath been liberal and free. + +YORK +And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure!-- +Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee. +Use no entreaty, for it is in vain. + +PUCELLE +Then lead me hence, with whom I leave my curse: +May never glorious sun reflex his beams +Upon the country where you make abode, +But darkness and the gloomy shade of death +Environ you, till mischief and despair +Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves. +[She exits, led by Guards.] + +YORK +Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes, +Thou foul accursed minister of hell! + +[Enter Winchester, as Cardinal.] + + +WINCHESTER +Lord Regent, I do greet your Excellence +With letters of commission from the King. +For know, my lords, the states of Christendom, +Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils, +Have earnestly implored a general peace +Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French; +And here at hand the Dauphin and his train +Approacheth to confer about some matter. + +YORK +Is all our travail turned to this effect? +After the slaughter of so many peers, +So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers +That in this quarrel have been overthrown +And sold their bodies for their country's benefit, +Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace? +Have we not lost most part of all the towns-- +By treason, falsehood, and by treachery-- +Our great progenitors had conquered? +O, Warwick, Warwick, I foresee with grief +The utter loss of all the realm of France! + +WARWICK +Be patient, York; if we conclude a peace +It shall be with such strict and severe covenants +As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby. + +[Enter Charles, Alanson, Bastard, +Reignier, with Attendants.] + + +CHARLES +Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed +That peaceful truce shall be proclaimed in France, +We come to be informed by yourselves +What the conditions of that league must be. + +YORK +Speak, Winchester, for boiling choler chokes +The hollow passage of my poisoned voice +By sight of these our baleful enemies. + +WINCHESTER +Charles and the rest, it is enacted thus: +That, in regard King Henry gives consent, +Of mere compassion and of lenity, +To ease your country of distressful war +And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace, +You shall become true liegemen to his crown. +And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear +To pay him tribute and submit thyself, +Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him, +And still enjoy thy regal dignity. + +ALANSON +Must he be then as shadow of himself-- +Adorn his temples with a coronet, +And yet, in substance and authority, +Retain but privilege of a private man? +This proffer is absurd and reasonless. + +CHARLES +'Tis known already that I am possessed +With more than half the Gallian territories, +And therein reverenced for their lawful king. +Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquished, +Detract so much from that prerogative +As to be called but viceroy of the whole? +No, lord ambassador, I'll rather keep +That which I have than, coveting for more, +Be cast from possibility of all. + +YORK +Insulting Charles, hast thou by secret means +Used intercession to obtain a league +And, now the matter grows to compromise, +Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison? +Either accept the title thou usurp'st, +Of benefit proceeding from our king +And not of any challenge of desert, +Or we will plague thee with incessant wars. + +REIGNIER, [aside to Charles] +My lord, you do not well in obstinacy +To cavil in the course of this contract. +If once it be neglected, ten to one +We shall not find like opportunity. + +ALANSON, [aside to Charles] +To say the truth, it is your policy +To save your subjects from such massacre +And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen +By our proceeding in hostility; +And therefore take this compact of a truce +Although you break it when your pleasure serves. + +WARWICK +How say'st thou, Charles? Shall our condition stand? + +CHARLES +It shall--only reserved you claim no interest +In any of our towns of garrison. + +YORK +Then swear allegiance to his Majesty, +As thou art knight, never to disobey +Nor be rebellious to the crown of England, +Thou nor thy nobles, to the crown of England. +[Charles, Alanson, Bastard, and Reignier +swear allegiance to Henry.] +So, now dismiss your army when you please; +Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still, +For here we entertain a solemn peace. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Suffolk in conference with the King, +Gloucester, and Exeter, with Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY +Your wondrous rare description, noble earl, +Of beauteous Margaret hath astonished me. +Her virtues graced with external gifts +Do breed love's settled passions in my heart, +And like as rigor of tempestuous gusts +Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, +So am I driven by breath of her renown +Either to suffer shipwrack, or arrive +Where I may have fruition of her love. + +SUFFOLK +Tush, my good lord, this superficial tale +Is but a preface of her worthy praise. +The chief perfections of that lovely dame, +Had I sufficient skill to utter them, +Would make a volume of enticing lines +Able to ravish any dull conceit; +And, which is more, she is not so divine, +So full replete with choice of all delights, +But with as humble lowliness of mind +She is content to be at your command-- +Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents-- +To love and honor Henry as her lord. + +KING HENRY +And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume.-- +Therefore, my Lord Protector, give consent +That Margaret may be England's royal queen. + +GLOUCESTER +So should I give consent to flatter sin. +You know, my lord, your Highness is betrothed +Unto another lady of esteem. +How shall we then dispense with that contract +And not deface your honor with reproach? + +SUFFOLK +As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths; +Or one that, at a triumph having vowed +To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists +By reason of his adversary's odds. +A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds, +And therefore may be broke without offense. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than that? +Her father is no better than an earl, +Although in glorious titles he excel. + +SUFFOLK +Yes, my lord, her father is a king, +The King of Naples and Jerusalem, +And of such great authority in France +As his alliance will confirm our peace, +And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance. + +GLOUCESTER +And so the Earl of Armagnac may do, +Because he is near kinsman unto Charles. + +EXETER +Besides, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower, +Where Reignier sooner will receive than give. + +SUFFOLK +A dower, my lords? Disgrace not so your king +That he should be so abject, base, and poor, +To choose for wealth and not for perfect love. +Henry is able to enrich his queen, +And not to seek a queen to make him rich; +So worthless peasants bargain for their wives, +As market men for oxen, sheep, or horse. +Marriage is a matter of more worth +Than to be dealt in by attorneyship. +Not whom we will, but whom his Grace affects, +Must be companion of his nuptial bed. +And therefore, lords, since he affects her most, +Most of all these reasons bindeth us +In our opinions she should be preferred. +For what is wedlock forced but a hell, +An age of discord and continual strife? +Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss +And is a pattern of celestial peace. +Whom should we match with Henry, being a king, +But Margaret, that is daughter to a king? +Her peerless feature, joined with her birth, +Approves her fit for none but for a king. +Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit, +More than in women commonly is seen, +Will answer our hope in issue of a king. +For Henry, son unto a conqueror, +Is likely to beget more conquerors, +If with a lady of so high resolve +As is fair Margaret he be linked in love. +Then yield, my lords, and here conclude with me +That Margaret shall be queen, and none but she. + +KING HENRY +Whether it be through force of your report, +My noble Lord of Suffolk, or for that +My tender youth was never yet attaint +With any passion of inflaming love, +I cannot tell; but this I am assured: +I feel such sharp dissension in my breast, +Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear, +As I am sick with working of my thoughts. +Take therefore shipping; post, my lord, to France; +Agree to any covenants, and procure +That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come +To cross the seas to England and be crowned +King Henry's faithful and anointed queen. +For your expenses and sufficient charge, +Among the people gather up a tenth. +Be gone, I say, for till you do return, +I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.-- +And you, good uncle, banish all offense. +If you do censure me by what you were, +Not what you are, I know it will excuse +This sudden execution of my will. +And so conduct me where, from company, +I may revolve and ruminate my grief. +[He exits with Attendants.] + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. +[Gloucester exits with Exeter.] + +SUFFOLK +Thus Suffolk hath prevailed, and thus he goes +As did the youthful Paris once to Greece, +With hope to find the like event in love, +But prosper better than the Trojan did. +Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the King, +But I will rule both her, the King, and realm. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cb7588 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-2_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5113 @@ +Henry VI, Part 2 +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-vi-part-2/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING HENRY VI +QUEEN MARGARET +Humphrey, Duke of GLOUCESTER, the king's uncle, and Lord Protector +DUCHESS of Gloucester, Dame Eleanor Cobham +CARDINAL Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, the king's great-uncle +Duke of SOMERSET +Duke of SUFFOLK, William de la Pole, earlier Marquess of Suffolk +BUCKINGHAM +Lord CLIFFORD +YOUNG CLIFFORD, his son +Duke of YORK, Richard Plantagenet +Earl of SALISBURY +Earl of WARWICK, Salisbury's son +Sons of the Duke of York: + EDWARD, Earl of March + RICHARD +Jack CADE, leader of the Kentish rebellion +Followers of Jack Cade: + BEVIS + John HOLLAND + DICK the butcher + SMITH the weaver + MICHAEL + GEORGE +King Henry's supporters against Cade: + Lord SCALES + Lord SAYE + Sir Humphrey STAFFORD + His BROTHER, William Stafford +Sir John HUME, a priest +John SOUTHWELL, a priest +Margery JOURDAIN, a witch +Roger BOLINGBROKE, a conjurer +SPIRIT +Custodians of the Duchess of Gloucester: + Sir John STANLEY + SHERIFF +Thomas HORNER, the Duke of York's armorer +Peter THUMP, Horner the armorer's man or prentice +Two or Three PETITIONERS +Three NEIGHBORS of Horner's +Three PRENTICES, friends of Thump +A MAN of Saint Albans +Sander SIMPCOX, supposed recipient of a miracle +His WIFE +MAYOR of Saint Albans +A BEADLE of Saint Albans +LIEUTENANT, captain of a ship +Ship's MASTER +Master's MATE +Walter WHITMORE, a ship's officer +Two GENTLEMEN, prisoners +MESSENGERS +SERVANTS +A HERALD +POST, or messenger +Two or Three MURDERERS of Gloucester +VAUX +CLERK of Chartham +Two or Three CITIZENS +Alexander IDEN, a gentleman of Kent +Servants, Guards, Falconers, Attendants, Townsmen of Saint Albans, Bearers, Drummers, Commoners, Rebels, a Sawyer, Soldiers, Officers, Matthew Gough, and Others + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish of trumpets, then hautboys. +Enter King Henry, Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, +Salisbury, Warwick, and Cardinal Beaufort, on the one +side; Queen Margaret, Suffolk, York, Somerset, and +Buckingham, on the other.] + + +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial Majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your Excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your Grace, +So, in the famous ancient city Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleance, Calaber, Britaigne, and +Alanson, +Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend +bishops, +I have performed my task and was espoused; +[He kneels.] +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the Queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent: +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY +Suffolk, arise.--Welcome, Queen Margaret. +[Suffolk rises.] +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. [He kisses her.] +O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For Thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great king of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alderliefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And overjoy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY +Her sight did ravish, but her grace in speech, +Her words yclad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wond'ring fall to weeping joys, +Such is the fullness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL [kneel.] +Long live Queen Margaret, England's happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET We thank you all. +[Flourish. All rise.] + +SUFFOLK, [to Gloucester] +My Lord Protector, so it please your Grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. +[He hands Gloucester a paper.] + +GLOUCESTER [(reads)] Imprimis, it is agreed between the +French king Charles and William de la Pole, Marquess +of Suffolk, ambassador for Henry, King of England, +that the said Henry shall espouse the Lady +Margaret, daughter unto Reignier, King of Naples, +Sicilia, and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England +ere the thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, +that the duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine +shall be released and delivered to the King her +father-- [He drops the paper.] + +KING HENRY +Uncle, how now? + +GLOUCESTER Pardon me, gracious lord. +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimmed mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY +Uncle of Winchester, I pray read on. + +CARDINAL [picks up the paper and reads] Item, it is further +agreed between them that the duchies of +Anjou and Maine shall be released and delivered to +the King her father, and she sent over of the King of +England's own proper cost and charges, without +having any dowry. + +KING HENRY +They please us well.--Lord Marquess, kneel down. +[Suffolk kneels.] +We here create thee the first Duke of Suffolk +And girt thee with the sword. [Suffolk rises.] Cousin +of York, +We here discharge your Grace from being regent +I' th' parts of France till term of eighteen months +Be full expired.--Thanks, Uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for this great favor done +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be performed. +[King, Queen, and Suffolk exit. +The rest remain.] + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What, did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valor, coin, and people in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the Council House, +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his Highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labors and these honors die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war, and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league, +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquered France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours, and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it if we can, +But now it is impossible we should. +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery; +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no +tears. +Anjou and Maine? Myself did win them both! +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer. +And are the cities that I got with wounds +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate +That dims the honor of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives; +And our King Henry gives away his own +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved in +France +Before-- + +CARDINAL +My lord of Gloucester, now you grow too hot. +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Winchester, I know your mind. +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble you. +Rancor will out. Proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury. If I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings.-- +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. +[Gloucester exits.] + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our Protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the King. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood +And heir apparent to the English crown. +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the West, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords. Let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favor him, +Calling him "Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester," +Clapping their hands and crying with loud voice +"Jesu maintain your royal Excellence!" +With "God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!" +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous Protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself?-- +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay. +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. [Cardinal exits.] + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal. +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes' in the land besides. +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be Protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be Protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the Cardinal. +[Buckingham and Somerset exit.] + +SALISBURY +Pride went before; Ambition follows him. +While these do labor for their own preferment, +Behooves it us to labor for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' th' Church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal.-- +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness, and thy housekeeping +Hath won the greatest favor of the Commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey.-- +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee feared and honored of the people. +Join we together for the public good +In what we can to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the Cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +And so says York--[aside] for he hath greatest +cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main? O father, Maine is lost! +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France or else be slain. +[Warwick and Salisbury exit. +York remains.] + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point now they are gone. +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all. What is 't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their +pillage, +And purchase friends, and give to courtesans, +Still reveling like lords till all be gone; +Whileas the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands, +And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve, and dare not touch his own. +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue +While his own lands are bargained for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France, and +Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burnt +Unto the Prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevilles' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit. +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the scepter in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose churchlike humors fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile till time do serve. +Watch thou and wake, when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love +With his new bride and England's dear-bought +queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars. +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed, +And in my standard bear the arms of York, +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And force perforce I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pulled fair England down. +[York exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Duke Humphrey of Gloucester and his wife +the Duchess Eleanor.] + + +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord like over-ripened corn +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favors of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honors of the world? +If so, gaze on and grovel on thy face +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand; reach at the glorious gold. +What, is 't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine; +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts! +And may that hour when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dreams this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dreamed my lord? Tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office badge in court, +Was broke in twain--by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by th' Cardinal-- +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund, Duke of +Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream. What it doth bode God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty, +In the cathedral church of Westminster +And in that chair where kings and queens were +crowned, +Where Henry and Dame Margaret kneeled to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright. +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm +And the Protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honor to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord? Are you so choleric +With Eleanor for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself +And not be checked. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry. I am pleased again. + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Albans, +Whereas the King and Queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go.--Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord. I'll follow presently. +[Gloucester exits, with Messenger.] +Follow I must; I cannot go before +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant.-- +Where are you there? Sir John! Nay, fear not, man. +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +[Enter Sir John Hume.] + + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal Majesty! + +DUCHESS +What sayst thou? "Majesty"? I am but "Grace." + +HUME +But by the grace of God and Hume's advice, +Your Grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What sayst thou, man? Hast thou as yet conferred +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised: to show your Highness +A spirit raised from depth of underground +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your Grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough. I'll think upon the questions. +When from Saint Albans we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward. +[She gives him money.] +Make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. +[Duchess exits.] + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the Duchess' gold. +Marry, and shall! But, how now, Sir John Hume? +Seal up your lips, and give no words but "mum"; +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch; +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast-- +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so. For, to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humor, +Have hired me to undermine the Duchess +And buzz these conjurations in her brain. +They say a crafty knave does need no broker, +Yet am I Suffolk and the Cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus I fear at last +Hume's knavery will be the Duchess' wrack, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall. +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter three or four Petitioners, Peter, the +Armorer's man, being one.] + + +FIRST PETITIONER My masters, let's stand close. My +Lord Protector will come this way by and by, and +then we may deliver our supplications in the quill. + +SECOND PETITIONER Marry, the Lord protect him, for +he's a good man! Jesu bless him! + +[Enter Suffolk, wearing the red rose, +and Queen Margaret.] + + +FIRST PETITIONER Here he comes, methinks, and the +Queen with him. I'll be the first, sure. +[He steps forward.] + +SECOND PETITIONER Come back, fool! This is the Duke +of Suffolk, and not my Lord Protector. + +SUFFOLK How now, fellow? Wouldst anything with +me? + +FIRST PETITIONER I pray, my lord, pardon me. I took +you for my Lord Protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET [takes a petition and reads.] To my +Lord Protector. Are your supplications to his Lordship? +Let me see them.--What is thine? + +FIRST PETITIONER Mine is, an 't please your Grace, +against John Goodman, my Lord Cardinal's man, +for keeping my house, and lands, and wife and all, +from me. + +SUFFOLK Thy wife too? That's some wrong indeed.-- +What's yours? [Taking a petition.] What's here? +[(Reads.)] Against the Duke of Suffolk for enclosing +the commons of Melford. How now, sir knave? + +SECOND PETITIONER Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner +of our whole township. + +PETER, [showing his petition] Against my master, +Thomas Horner, for saying that the Duke of York +was rightful heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET What sayst thou? Did the Duke of +York say he was rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER That my master was? No, forsooth. My master +said that he was and that the King was an +usurper. + +SUFFOLK, [calling] Who is there? + +[Enter Servant.] + +Take this fellow in, and send for his master with a +pursuivant presently.--We'll hear more of your +matter before the King. +[Peter exits with Servant.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you that love to be protected +Under the wings of our Protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. +[Tear the supplication.] +Away, base cullions.--Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL Come, let's be gone. [They exit.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashions in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What, shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou rann'st atilt in honor of my love +And stol'st away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship, and proportion. +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave Marys on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tiltyard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the College of the Cardinals +Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome +And set the triple crown upon his head! +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient. As I was cause +Your Highness came to England, so will I +In England work your Grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Besides the haughty Protector, have we Beaufort +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York; and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the King. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevilles; +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the Lord Protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of +ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife. +Strangers in court do take her for the Queen. +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty. +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous baseborn callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t' other day +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her +And placed a choir of such enticing birds +That she will light to listen to the lays +And never mount to trouble you again. +So let her rest. And, madam, list to me, +For I am bold to counsel you in this: +Although we fancy not the Cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +[Sound a sennet. Enter King Henry, Duke Humphrey +of Gloucester, Cardinal, Somerset, wearing the red +rose, Buckingham, Salisbury; York and Warwick, both +wearing the white rose; and the Duchess of +Gloucester.] + + +KING HENRY +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demeaned himself in France, +Then let him be denied the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that. York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The Cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son.--And show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the King, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the King is old enough himself +To give his censure. These are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your Grace +To be Protector of his Excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am Protector of the realm, +And at his pleasure will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it, then, and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wrack, +The Dauphin hath prevailed beyond the seas, +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL, [to Gloucester] +The Commons hast thou racked; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET, [to Gloucester] +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM, [to Gloucester] +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders hath exceeded law +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [to Gloucester] +Thy sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. +[Gloucester exits.] +[Queen Margaret drops her fan.] +[To Duchess.] Give me my fan. What, minion, can +you not? [She gives the Duchess a box on the ear.] +I cry you mercy, madam. Was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was 't I? Yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman. +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY +Sweet aunt, be quiet. 'Twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will, good king? Look to 't in time. +She'll hamper thee and dandle thee like a baby. +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. +[Eleanor, the Duchess, exits.] + +BUCKINGHAM, [aside to Cardinal] +Lord Cardinal, I will follow Eleanor +And listen after Humphrey how he proceeds. +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs; +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. +[Buckingham exits.] + +[Enter Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being overblown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law; +But God in mercy so deal with my soul +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My lord of Somerset will keep me here +Without discharge, money, or furniture +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands. +Last time I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famished, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness, and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +[Enter Horner, the Armorer, and his Man +Peter, under guard.] + + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason. +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth anyone accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY +What mean'st thou, Suffolk? Tell me, what are +these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your Majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason. +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown, +And that your Majesty was an usurper. + +KING HENRY Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER An 't shall please your Majesty, I never said +nor thought any such matter. God is my witness, I +am falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak +them to me in the garret one night as we were +scouring my lord of York's armor. + +YORK, [to Horner] +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech!-- +I do beseech your royal Majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER Alas, my lord, hang me if ever I spake the +words. My accuser is my prentice; and when I did +correct him for his fault the other day, he did vow +upon his knees he would be even with me. I have +good witness of this. Therefore I beseech your +Majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a +villain's accusation! + +KING HENRY +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent o'er the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion; +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice. +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal Majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake pity +my case! The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight or else be hanged. + +KING HENRY Away with them to prison; and the day of +combat shall be the last of the next month.-- +Come, Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the Witch Margery Jourdain, the two Priests +Hume and Southwell, and Bolingbroke, a conjurer.] + + +HUME Come, my masters. The Duchess, I tell you, +expects performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE Master Hume, we are therefore provided. +Will her Ladyship behold and hear our +exorcisms? + +HUME Ay, what else? Fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE I have heard her reported to be a +woman of an invincible spirit. But it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft +while we be busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in +God's name, and leave us. [Hume exits.] +Mother Jourdain, be you prostrate and grovel on +the earth. [She lies face downward.] John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +[Enter Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, +with Hume, aloft.] + + +DUCHESS Well said, my masters, and welcome all. To +this gear, the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady. Wizards know their times. +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire, +The time when screech owls cry and bandogs howl, +And spirits walk, and ghosts break up their graves-- +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you, and fear not. Whom we raise +We will make fast within a hallowed verge. + +[Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and +make the circle. Bolingbroke or Southwell reads +"Conjuro te, etc." It thunders and lightens terribly; +then the Spirit riseth.] + + +SPIRIT Adsum. + +JOURDAIN Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask, +For till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +SPIRIT +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE, [reading from a paper, while Southwell +writes] +First of the King: What shall of him become? + +SPIRIT +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose, +But him outlive and die a violent death. + +BOLINGBROKE, [reads] +What fates await the Duke of Suffolk? + +SPIRIT +By water shall he die and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE [reads] +What shall befall the Duke of Somerset? + +SPIRIT Let him shun castles. +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! +[Thunder and lightning. Spirit exits, descending.] + +[Enter the Duke of York and the Duke of Buckingham +with their Guard and Sir Humphrey Stafford, and +break in.] + + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +[The Guard arrest Margery Jourdain and her +accomplices and seize their papers.] +[To Jourdain.] Beldam, I think we watched you at an +inch. +[To the Duchess, aloft.] What, madam, are you +there? The King and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains. +My Lord Protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdoned for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all. What call you this? +[He holds up the papers seized.] +Away with them! Let them be clapped up close +And kept asunder.--You, madam, shall with us.-- +Stafford, take her to thee. [Stafford exits.] +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All away! [Jourdain, Southwell, and Bolingbroke +exit under guard, below; Duchess and Hume +exit, under guard, aloft.] + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks you watched her well. +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +[Buckingham hands him the papers.] +What have we here? +[(Reads.)] The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose, +But him outlive and die a violent death. +Why, this is just Aio te, Aeacida, +Romanos vincere posse. Well, to the rest: +[(Reads.)] Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of +Suffolk? +By water shall he die and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Come, come, my lord, these oracles +Are hardly attained and hardly understood. +The King is now in progress towards Saint Albans; +With him the husband of this lovely lady. +Thither goes these news as fast as horse can carry +them-- +A sorry breakfast for my Lord Protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your Grace shall give me leave, my lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK At your pleasure, my good lord. +[Buckingham exits.] +Who's within there, ho! + +[Enter a Servingman.] + +Invite my lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me tomorrow night. Away! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, Gloucester the +Lord Protector, Cardinal, and Suffolk, and +Attendants, with Falconers hallowing.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook +I saw not better sport these seven years' day. +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high, +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY, [to Gloucester] +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your Majesty, +My Lord Protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much. He would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my Lord Cardinal, how think you by that? +Were it not good your Grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL, [to Gloucester] +Thy heaven is on Earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart. +Pernicious Protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown +peremptory? +Tantaene animis caelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? Good uncle, hide such malice. +With such holiness, can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir, no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK Why, as you, my lord, +An 't like your lordly Lord Protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY I prithee peace, +Good queen, and whet not on these furious peers, +For blessed are the peacemakers on Earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make +Against this proud Protector with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER, [aside to Cardinal] +Faith, holy uncle, would 't were come to that! + +CARDINAL, [aside to Gloucester] Marry, when thou +dar'st! + +GLOUCESTER, [aside to Cardinal] +Make up no factious numbers for the matter. +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL, [aside to Gloucester] +Ay, where thou dar'st not peep. An if thou dar'st, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY +How now, my lords? + +CARDINAL Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. [(Aside to Gloucester.)] +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. [(Aside to Cardinal.)] Are you advised? +The east side of the grove. + +CARDINAL, [aside to Gloucester] +I am with you. + +KING HENRY Why, how now, uncle Gloucester? + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. +[(Aside to Cardinal.)] Now, by God's mother, priest, +I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL, [aside to Gloucester] Medice, teipsum; +Protector, see to 't well; protect yourself. + +KING HENRY +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +[Enter a man from St. Albans crying "A miracle!"] + + +GLOUCESTER What means this noise?-- +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +MAN A miracle, a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the King, and tell him what miracle. + +MAN +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine +Within this half hour hath received his sight, +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair. + +[Enter the Mayor of Saint Albans, and his brethren, +bearing the man Simpcox between two in a chair, +followed by Simpcox's Wife and Others.] + + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession +To present your Highness with the man. + +KING HENRY +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters.--Bring him near the King. +His Highness' pleasure is to talk with him. +[The two bearers bring the chair forward.] + +KING HENRY +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX Born blind, an 't please your Grace. + +WIFE Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK What woman is this? + +WIFE His wife, an 't like your Worship. + +GLOUCESTER Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst +have better told. + +KING HENRY Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the North, an 't like your Grace. + +KING HENRY +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee. +Let never day nor night unhallowed pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, cam'st thou here by chance, +Or of devotion to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion, being called +A hundred times and oftener in my sleep +By good Saint Alban, who said "Simon, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee." + +WIFE +Most true, forsooth, and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK How cam'st thou so? + +SIMPCOX A fall off of a tree. + +WIFE A plum tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX O, born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +WIFE Too true, and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER Mass, thou lov'dst plums well, that +wouldst venture so. + +SIMPCOX Alas, good master, my wife desired some +damsons, and made me climb, with danger of my +life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave, but yet it shall not serve.-- +Let me see thine eyes. Wink now. Now open them. +In my opinion, yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Sayst thou me so? What color is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX Red, master, red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What color is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX Black, forsooth, coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY +Why, then, thou know'st what color jet is of. + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +WIFE +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER, [pointing] What's his name? + +SIMPCOX I know not. + +GLOUCESTER, [pointing to someone else] Nor his? + +SIMPCOX No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX Sander Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER Then, Sander, sit there, the lying'st knave +in Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, +thou mightst as well have known all our names as +thus to name the several colors we do wear. Sight +may distinguish of colors; but suddenly to nominate +them all, it is impossible.--My lords, Saint +Alban here hath done a miracle; and would you +not think his cunning to be great that could +restore this cripple to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER My masters of Saint Albans, have you not +beadles in your town and things called whips? + +MAYOR Yes, my lord, if it please your Grace. + +GLOUCESTER Then send for one presently. + +MAYOR Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. +[A man exits.] + +GLOUCESTER Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. +[One brings a stool.] Now, sirrah, if you mean to +save yourself from whipping, leap me over this +stool, and run away. + +SIMPCOX Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone. +You go about to torture me in vain. + +[Enter a Beadle with whips.] + + +GLOUCESTER Well, sir, we must have you find your +legs.--Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over +that same stool. + +BEADLE I will, my lord.--Come on, sirrah, off with +your doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to +stand. +[After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps +over the stool and runs away; and they follow +and cry "A miracle!"] + +KING HENRY +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER, [to the Beadle] +Follow the knave, and take this drab away. + +WIFE Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market town +Till they come to Berwick, from whence they came. +[The Beadle, Mayor, Wife, and the others from +Saint Albans exit.] + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle today. + +SUFFOLK +True, made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I. +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +[Enter Buckingham.] + + +KING HENRY +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold: +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the Protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practiced dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers, +Whom we have apprehended in the fact, +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death +And other of your Highness' Privy Council, +As more at large your Grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +And so, my Lord Protector, by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +[Aside to Gloucester.] This news, I think, hath turned +your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart. +Sorrow and grief have vanquished all my powers, +And, vanquished as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest, +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal +How I have loved my king and commonweal; +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands. +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard. +Noble she is; but if she have forgot +Honor and virtue, and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame +That hath dishonored Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY +Well, for this night we will repose us here. +Tomorrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly, +And call these foul offenders to their answers, +And poise the cause in Justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause +prevails. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter York, Salisbury, and Warwick.] + + +YORK +Now, my good lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave, +In this close walk, to satisfy myself +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good, +The Nevilles are thy subjects to command. + +YORK Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield; and the third, +Lionel, Duke of Clarence; next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of +Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who, after Edward the Third's death, reigned as +king +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crowned by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she +came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murdered traitorously. + +WARWICK Father, the Duke hath told the truth. +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reigned. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claim the crown, had issue, Philippa, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. +Edmund had issue, Roger, Earl of March; +Roger had issue: Edmund, Anne, and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown, +Married Richard, Earl of Cambridge, who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom. She was heir +To Roger, Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippa, +Sole daughter unto Lionel, Duke of Clarence. +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceedings is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign. +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together, +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honor of his birthright to the crown. + +SALISBURY, WARWICK, [kneeling] +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. [They rise.] But I am not your +king +Till I be crowned, and that my sword be stained +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be performed, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham, and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey. +'Tis that they seek; and they, in seeking that, +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off. We know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Neville, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the King. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Sound trumpets. Enter King Henry and State +(Queen Margaret, Gloucester, York, Salisbury, Suffolk, +and Others) with Guard, to banish the Duchess of +Gloucester, who is accompanied by Margery Jourdain, +Southwell, Hume, and Bolingbroke, all guarded.] + + +KING HENRY +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's +wife. +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great. +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +[To Jourdain, Southwell, Hume, and Bolingbroke.] +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burnt to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +[To Duchess] You, madam, for you are more nobly +born, +Despoiled of your honor in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment +With Sir John Stanley in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment. Welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou seest, hath judged thee. +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. +[Duchess and the other prisoners exit under guard.] +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonor in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground.-- +I beseech your Majesty give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace, and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY +Stay, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester. Ere thou go, +Give up thy staff. Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet. +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert Protector to thy king. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm!-- +Give up your staff, sir, and the King his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff?--Here, noble Henry, is my staff. +[He puts down his staff before Henry.] +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king. When I am dead and gone, +May honorable peace attend thy throne. +[Gloucester exits.] +[Henry picks up the staff.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king and Margaret queen, +And Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim. Two pulls at once: +His lady banished and a limb lopped off. +This staff of honor raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go.--Please it your Majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat, +And ready are the appellant and defendant-- +The armorer and his man--to enter the lists, +So please your Highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, for purposely therefor +Left I the court to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY +I' God's name, see the lists and all things fit. +Here let them end it, and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bestead +Or more afraid to fight than is the appellant, +The servant of this armorer, my lords. + +[Enter at one door the Armorer Horner and his +Neighbors, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; +and he enters with a Drum before him and his staff with +a sandbag fastened to it; and at the other door his man +Peter, with a Drum and sandbag, and Prentices +drinking to him.] + + +FIRST NEIGHBOR Here, neighbor Horner, I drink to you +in a cup of sack; and fear not, neighbor, you shall +do well enough. + +SECOND NEIGHBOR And here, neighbor, here's a cup of +charneco. + +THIRD NEIGHBOR And here's a pot of good double beer, +neighbor. Drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all. +And a fig for Peter! [They drink.] + +FIRST PRENTICE Here, Peter, I drink to thee, and be not +afraid. + +SECOND PRENTICE Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy +master. Fight for credit of the prentices. + +PETER I thank you all. Drink, and pray for me, I pray +you, for I think I have taken my last draft in this +world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee my +apron.--And, Will, thou shalt have my hammer.-- +And here, Tom, take all the money that I have. [He +distributes his possessions.] O Lord, bless me, I +pray God, for I am never able to deal with my +master. He hath learnt so much fence already. + +SALISBURY Come, leave your drinking, and fall to +blows. Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY Peter? What more? + +PETER Thump. + +SALISBURY Thump? Then see thou thump thy master +well. + +HORNER Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon +my man's instigation, to prove him a knave and +myself an honest man; and touching the Duke of +York, I will take my death I never meant him any +ill, nor the King, nor the Queen.--And therefore, +Peter, have at thee with a downright blow! + +YORK Dispatch. This knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets. Alarum to the combatants! +[Trumpet sounds.] +[They fight, and Peter strikes him down.] + +HORNER Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. +[He dies.] + +YORK Take away his weapon.--Fellow, thank God and +the good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER O God, have I overcome mine enemies in this +presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For by his death we do perceive his guilt. +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murdered +wrongfully.-- +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. +[Sound a flourish. They exit, bearing Horner's body.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Duke Humphrey of Gloucester and his Men, +in mourning cloaks.] + + +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud, +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold; +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +SERVANT Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punished duchess. +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face +With envious looks laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes, and I'll prepare +My tearstained eyes to see her miseries. + +[Enter the Duchess of Gloucester, barefoot, and in a +white sheet, with papers pinned to her back and a +taper burning in her hand, with Sir John Stanley, +the Sheriff, and Officers.] + + +SERVANT +So please your Grace, we'll take her from the Sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not for your lives. Let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee. +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine. + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell. Forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, Protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mailed up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trowest thou that e'er I'll look upon the world +Or count them happy that enjoys the sun? +No, dark shall be my light, and night my day. +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometimes I'll say I am Duke Humphrey's wife +And he a prince and ruler of the land; +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the ax of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will. +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings; +And fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee. +But fear not thou until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear. Thou aimest all awry. +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe +So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away, +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell. +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +[Enter a Herald.] + + +HERALD +I summon your Grace to his Majesty's Parliament +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er asked herein before? +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. +[Herald exits.] +My Nell, I take my leave.--And, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the King's commission. + +SHERIFF +An 't please your Grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may 't please your Grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well. The world may laugh again, +And I may live to do you kindness, if +You do it her. And so, Sir John, farewell. + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell? + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears. I cannot stay to speak. +[Gloucester exits with his Men.] + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? All comfort go with thee, +For none abides with me. My joy is death-- +Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard, +Because I wished this world's eternity.-- +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence. +I care not whither, for I beg no favor; +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man, +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach. +And shall I, then, be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +SHERIFF +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell. Thy office is discharged. +[The Sheriff and Officers exit.] +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet. +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way. I long to see my prison. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Sound a sennet. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, +Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury, and +Warwick, and Others to the Parliament.] + + +KING HENRY +I muse my lord of Gloucester is not come. +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see, or will you not observe, +The strangeness of his altered countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable; +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission. +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn +When everyone will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin, +But great men tremble when the lion roars-- +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First, note that he is near you in descent, +And, should you fall, he is the next will mount. +Meseemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your Highness' Council. +By flattery hath he won the Commons' hearts; +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be feared they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the Duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear, +Which fear, if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wronged the Duke. +My lords of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation if you can, +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your Highness seen into this duke, +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your Grace's tale. +The Duchess by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practices; +Or if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent-- +As next the King he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility-- +Did instigate the bedlam brainsick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep, +And in his simple show he harbors treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign, Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offenses done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it, +By means whereof the towns each day revolted? + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown, +Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke +Humphrey. + +KING HENRY +My lords, at once: the care you have of us +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot +Is worthy praise; but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove. +The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance? +Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven. +Is he a lamb? His skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolves. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +[Enter Somerset.] + + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you. All is lost. + +KING HENRY +Cold news, Lord Somerset; but God's will be done. + +YORK, [aside] +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, +And caterpillars eat my leaves away. +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +[Enter Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the King! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stayed so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art. +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest. +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign. +Who can accuse me? Wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France +And, being Protector, stayed the soldiers' pay, +By means whereof his Highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? What are they that think it? +I never robbed the soldiers of their pay +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God as I have watched the night-- +Ay, night by night--in studying good for England! +That doit that e'er I wrested from the King, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial day! +No, many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy Commons, +Have I dispursed to the garrisons +And never asked for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God. + +YORK +In your protectorship, you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that whiles I was Protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment. +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered; +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his Highness' name, +And here commit you to my Lord Cardinal +To keep until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspense. +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous. +Virtue is choked with foul ambition, +And charity chased hence by rancor's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant, +And equity exiled your Highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life; +And if my death might make this island happy +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness. +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have plucked back, +By false accuse doth level at my life.-- +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head +And with your best endeavor have stirred up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy. +Ay, all of you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt. +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +"A staff is quickly found to beat a dog." + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable. +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitor's rage +Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couched, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant. I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they played me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day. +Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL, [to his Men] +Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body.-- +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false; ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. +[Gloucester exits, guarded by Cardinal's Men.] + +KING HENRY +My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best +Do, or undo, as if ourself were here. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, will your Highness leave the Parliament? + +KING HENRY +Ay, Margaret. My heart is drowned with grief, +Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes, +My body round engirt with misery; +For what's more miserable than discontent? +Ah, uncle Humphrey, in thy face I see +The map of honor, truth, and loyalty; +And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come +That e'er I proved thee false or feared thy faith. +What louring star now envies thy estate +That these great lords and Margaret our queen +Do seek subversion of thy harmless life? +Thou never didst them wrong nor no man wrong. +And as the butcher takes away the calf +And binds the wretch and beats it when it strains, +Bearing it to the bloody slaughterhouse, +Even so remorseless have they borne him hence; +And as the dam runs lowing up and down, +Looking the way her harmless young one went, +And can do naught but wail her darling's loss, +Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case +With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimmed eyes +Look after him and cannot do him good, +So mighty are his vowed enemies. +His fortunes I will weep and, 'twixt each groan, +Say "Who's a traitor, Gloucester he is none." +[He exits, with Buckingham, Salisbury, Warwick, +and Others. Somerset steps aside.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [to Cardinal, Suffolk, and York] +Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot +beams. +Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, +Too full of foolish pity; and Gloucester's show +Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile +With sorrow snares relenting passengers, +Or as the snake, rolled in a flow'ring bank, +With shining checkered slough, doth sting a child +That for the beauty thinks it excellent. +Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I-- +And yet herein I judge mine own wit good-- +This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world, +To rid us from the fear we have of him. + +CARDINAL +That he should die is worthy policy, +But yet we want a color for his death. +'Tis meet he be condemned by course of law. + +SUFFOLK +But, in my mind, that were no policy. +The King will labor still to save his life, +The Commons haply rise to save his life, +And yet we have but trivial argument, +More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death. + +YORK +So that, by this, you would not have him die. + +SUFFOLK +Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I! + +YORK +'Tis York that hath more reason for his death. +But, my Lord Cardinal, and you, my lord of Suffolk, +Say as you think, and speak it from your souls: +Were 't not all one an empty eagle were set +To guard the chicken from a hungry kite +As place Duke Humphrey for the King's Protector? + +QUEEN MARGARET +So the poor chicken should be sure of death. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, 'tis true; and were 't not madness then +To make the fox surveyor of the fold-- +Who, being accused a crafty murderer, +His guilt should be but idly posted over +Because his purpose is not executed? +No, let him die in that he is a fox, +By nature proved an enemy to the flock, +Before his chaps be stained with crimson blood, +As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege. +And do not stand on quillets how to slay him-- +Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety, +Sleeping or waking. 'Tis no matter how, +So he be dead; for that is good deceit +Which mates him first that first intends deceit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thrice noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke. + +SUFFOLK +Not resolute, except so much were done, +For things are often spoke and seldom meant; +But that my heart accordeth with my tongue, +Seeing the deed is meritorious, +And to preserve my sovereign from his foe, +Say but the word and I will be his priest. + +CARDINAL +But I would have him dead, my lord of Suffolk, +Ere you can take due orders for a priest. +Say you consent and censure well the deed, +And I'll provide his executioner. +I tender so the safety of my liege. + +SUFFOLK +Here is my hand. The deed is worthy doing. + +QUEEN MARGARET And so say I. + +YORK +And I. And now we three have spoke it, +It skills not greatly who impugns our doom. + +[Enter a Post.] + + +POST +Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain +To signify that rebels there are up +And put the Englishmen unto the sword. +Send succors, lords, and stop the rage betime, +Before the wound do grow uncurable; +For, being green, there is great hope of help. +[He exits.] + +CARDINAL +A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! +What counsel give you in this weighty cause? + +YORK +That Somerset be sent as regent thither. +'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employed-- +Witness the fortune he hath had in France. + +SOMERSET, [advancing] +If York, with all his far-fet policy, +Had been the regent there instead of me, +He never would have stayed in France so long. + +YORK +No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done. +I rather would have lost my life betimes +Than bring a burden of dishonor home +By staying there so long till all were lost. +Show me one scar charactered on thy skin. +Men's flesh preserved so whole do seldom win. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire +If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with.-- +No more, good York.--Sweet Somerset, be still.-- +Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, +Might happily have proved far worse than his. + +YORK +What, worse than naught? Nay, then, a shame take +all! + +SOMERSET +And, in the number, thee that wishest shame! + +CARDINAL +My lord of York, try what your fortune is. +Th' uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms +And temper clay with blood of Englishmen. +To Ireland will you lead a band of men, +Collected choicely, from each county some, +And try your hap against the Irishmen? + +YORK +I will, my lord, so please his Majesty. + +SUFFOLK +Why, our authority is his consent, +And what we do establish he confirms. +Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand. + +YORK +I am content. Provide me soldiers, lords, +Whiles I take order for mine own affairs. + +SUFFOLK +A charge, Lord York, that I will see performed. +But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey. + +CARDINAL +No more of him, for I will deal with him, +That henceforth he shall trouble us no more. +And so break off; the day is almost spent. +Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event. + +YORK +My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days +At Bristow I expect my soldiers, +For there I'll ship them all for Ireland. + +SUFFOLK +I'll see it truly done, my lord of York. +[All but York exit.] + +YORK +Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts +And change misdoubt to resolution. +Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art +Resign to death; it is not worth th' enjoying. +Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man +And find no harbor in a royal heart. +Faster than springtime showers comes thought on +thought, +And not a thought but thinks on dignity. +My brain, more busy than the laboring spider, +Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies. +Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done +To send me packing with an host of men. +I fear me you but warm the starved snake, +Who, cherished in your breasts, will sting your +hearts. +'Twas men I lacked, and you will give them me; +I take it kindly. Yet be well assured +You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands. +Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band, +I will stir up in England some black storm +Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell; +And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage +Until the golden circuit on my head, +Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams, +Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw. +And for a minister of my intent, +I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman, +John Cade of Ashford, +To make commotion, as full well he can, +Under the title of John Mortimer. +In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade +Oppose himself against a troop of kerns, +And fought so long till that his thighs with darts +Were almost like a sharp-quilled porpentine; +And in the end being rescued, I have seen +Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, +Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells. +Full often, like a shag-haired crafty kern, +Hath he conversed with the enemy, +And undiscovered come to me again +And given me notice of their villainies. +This devil here shall be my substitute; +For that John Mortimer, which now is dead, +In face, in gait, in speech he doth resemble. +By this, I shall perceive the Commons' mind, +How they affect the house and claim of York. +Say he be taken, racked, and tortured, +I know no pain they can inflict upon him +Will make him say I moved him to those arms. +Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will, +Why then from Ireland come I with my strength +And reap the harvest which that rascal sowed. +For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, +And Henry put apart, the next for me. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter two or three running over the stage, from the +murder of Duke Humphrey.] + + +FIRST MURDERER +Run to my lord of Suffolk. Let him know +We have dispatched the Duke as he commanded. + +SECOND MURDERER +O, that it were to do! What have we done? +Didst ever hear a man so penitent? + +[Enter Suffolk.] + + +FIRST MURDERER Here comes my lord. + +SUFFOLK Now, sirs, have you dispatched this thing? + +FIRST MURDERER Ay, my good lord, he's dead. + +SUFFOLK +Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house; +I will reward you for this venturous deed. +The King and all the peers are here at hand. +Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well, +According as I gave directions? + +FIRST MURDERER 'Tis, my good lord. + +SUFFOLK Away, be gone. [The Murderers exit.] + +[Sound trumpets. Enter King Henry, Queen +Margaret, Cardinal, Somerset, with Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY +Go, call our uncle to our presence straight. +Say we intend to try his Grace today +If he be guilty, as 'tis published. + +SUFFOLK +I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [He exits.] + +KING HENRY +Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all, +Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester +Than from true evidence of good esteem +He be approved in practice culpable. + +QUEEN MARGARET +God forbid any malice should prevail +That faultless may condemn a nobleman! +Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion! + +KING HENRY +I thank thee, Meg. These words content me much. + +[Enter Suffolk.] + +How now? Why look'st thou pale? Why tremblest +thou? +Where is our uncle? What's the matter, Suffolk? + +SUFFOLK +Dead in his bed, my lord. Gloucester is dead. + +QUEEN MARGARET Marry, God forfend! + +CARDINAL +God's secret judgment. I did dream tonight +The Duke was dumb and could not speak a word. +[King Henry swoons.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +How fares my lord? Help, lords, the King is dead! + +SOMERSET +Rear up his body. Wring him by the nose. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes! +[King Henry stirs.] + +SUFFOLK +He doth revive again. Madam, be patient. + +KING HENRY +O heavenly God! + +QUEEN MARGARET How fares my gracious lord? + +SUFFOLK +Comfort, my sovereign! Gracious Henry, comfort! + +KING HENRY +What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me? +Came he right now to sing a raven's note, +Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers, +And thinks he that the chirping of a wren, +By crying comfort from a hollow breast, +Can chase away the first-conceived sound? +Hide not thy poison with such sugared words. +Lay not thy hands on me. Forbear, I say! +Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting. +Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight! +Upon thy eyeballs, murderous Tyranny +Sits in grim majesty to fright the world. +Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding. +Yet do not go away. Come, basilisk, +And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight; +For in the shade of death I shall find joy, +In life but double death, now Gloucester's dead. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk thus? +Although the Duke was enemy to him, +Yet he most Christian-like laments his death. +And for myself, foe as he was to me, +Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans +Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life, +I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, +Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs, +And all to have the noble duke alive. +What know I how the world may deem of me? +For it is known we were but hollow friends. +It may be judged I made the Duke away; +So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded +And princes' courts be filled with my reproach. +This get I by his death. Ay me, unhappy, +To be a queen and crowned with infamy! + +KING HENRY +Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Be woe for me, more wretched than he is. +What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face? +I am no loathsome leper. Look on me. +What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf? +Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen. +Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb? +Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy. +Erect his statue and worship it, +And make my image but an alehouse sign. +Was I for this nigh-wracked upon the sea +And twice by awkward wind from England's bank +Drove back again unto my native clime? +What boded this, but well forewarning wind +Did seem to say "Seek not a scorpion's nest, +Nor set no footing on this unkind shore"? +What did I then but cursed the gentle gusts +And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves +And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore +Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? +Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer, +But left that hateful office unto thee. +The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me, +Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on +shore +With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness. +The splitting rocks cow'red in the sinking sands +And would not dash me with their ragged sides +Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they, +Might in thy palace perish Margaret. +As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs, +When from thy shore the tempest beat us back, +I stood upon the hatches in the storm, +And when the dusky sky began to rob +My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view, +I took a costly jewel from my neck-- +A heart it was, bound in with diamonds-- +And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it, +And so I wished thy body might my heart. +And even with this I lost fair England's view, +And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart, +And called them blind and dusky spectacles +For losing ken of Albion's wished coast. +How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue, +The agent of thy foul inconstancy, +To sit and watch me, as Ascanius did +When he to madding Dido would unfold +His father's acts commenced in burning Troy! +Am I not witched like her, or thou not false like +him? +Ay me, I can no more. Die, Margaret, +For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long. + +[Noise within. Enter Warwick and Salisbury, +and many Commons.] + + +WARWICK +It is reported, mighty sovereign, +That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murdered +By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means. +The Commons, like an angry hive of bees +That want their leader, scatter up and down +And care not who they sting in his revenge. +Myself have calmed their spleenful mutiny, +Until they hear the order of his death. + +KING HENRY +That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true; +But how he died God knows, not Henry. +Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, +And comment then upon his sudden death. + +WARWICK +That shall I do, my liege.--Stay, Salisbury, +With the rude multitude till I return. +[Warwick exits through one door; Salisbury and +Commons exit through another.] + +KING HENRY +O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts, +My thoughts that labor to persuade my soul +Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life. +If my suspect be false, forgive me, God, +For judgment only doth belong to Thee. +Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips +With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain +Upon his face an ocean of salt tears, +To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk +And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling; +But all in vain are these mean obsequies. +And to survey his dead and earthy image, +What were it but to make my sorrow greater? + +[Bed put forth, bearing Gloucester's body. +Enter Warwick.] + + +WARWICK +Come hither, gracious sovereign. View this body. + +KING HENRY +That is to see how deep my grave is made, +For with his soul fled all my worldly solace; +For seeing him, I see my life in death. + +WARWICK +As surely as my soul intends to live +With that dread King that took our state upon Him +To free us from His Father's wrathful curse, +I do believe that violent hands were laid +Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke. + +SUFFOLK +A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue! +What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow? + +WARWICK +See how the blood is settled in his face. +Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, +Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodless, +Being all descended to the laboring heart, +Who, in the conflict that it holds with death, +Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy, +Which with the heart there cools and ne'er +returneth +To blush and beautify the cheek again. +But see, his face is black and full of blood; +His eyeballs further out than when he lived, +Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man; +His hair upreared, his nostrils stretched with +struggling; +His hands abroad displayed, as one that grasped +And tugged for life and was by strength subdued. +Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking; +His well-proportioned beard made rough and +rugged, +Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged. +It cannot be but he was murdered here. +The least of all these signs were probable. +[The bed is removed.] + +SUFFOLK +Why, Warwick, who should do the Duke to death? +Myself and Beaufort had him in protection, +And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers. + +WARWICK +But both of you were vowed Duke Humphrey's foes, +[To Cardinal.] And you, forsooth, had the good duke +to keep. +'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend, +And 'tis well seen he found an enemy. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen +As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death. + +WARWICK +Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh, +And sees fast by a butcher with an ax, +But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter? +Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest +But may imagine how the bird was dead, +Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? +Even so suspicious is this tragedy. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife? +Is Beaufort termed a kite? Where are his talons? + +SUFFOLK +I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men, +But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease, +That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart +That slanders me with murder's crimson badge.-- +Say, if thou dar'st, proud lord of Warwickshire, +That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death. + +WARWICK +What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him? + +QUEEN MARGARET +He dares not calm his contumelious spirit +Nor cease to be an arrogant controller, +Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times. + +WARWICK +Madam, be still--with reverence may I say-- +For every word you speak in his behalf +Is slander to your royal dignity. + +SUFFOLK +Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanor! +If ever lady wronged her lord so much, +Thy mother took into her blameful bed +Some stern untutored churl, and noble stock +Was graft with crab-tree slip, whose fruit thou art +And never of the Nevilles' noble race. + +WARWICK +But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee +And I should rob the deathsman of his fee, +Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames, +And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild, +I would, false murd'rous coward, on thy knee +Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech +And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st, +That thou thyself wast born in bastardy; +And after all this fearful homage done, +Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell, +Pernicious bloodsucker of sleeping men! + +SUFFOLK +Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood, +If from this presence thou dar'st go with me. + +WARWICK +Away even now, or I will drag thee hence! +Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee +And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost. +[Warwick and Suffolk exit.] + +KING HENRY +What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? +Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, +And he but naked, though locked up in steel, +Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. + +[A noise within.] + +QUEEN MARGARET What noise is this? + +[Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn.] + + +KING HENRY +Why, how now, lords? Your wrathful weapons +drawn +Here in our presence? Dare you be so bold? +Why, what tumultuous clamor have we here? + +SUFFOLK +The trait'rous Warwick, with the men of Bury, +Set all upon me, mighty sovereign. + +[Enter Salisbury.] + + +SALISBURY, [to the offstage Commons] +Sirs, stand apart. The King shall know your mind.-- +Dread lord, the Commons send you word by me, +Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death +Or banished fair England's territories, +They will by violence tear him from your palace +And torture him with grievous ling'ring death. +They say, by him the good duke Humphrey died; +They say, in him they fear your Highness' death; +And mere instinct of love and loyalty, +Free from a stubborn opposite intent, +As being thought to contradict your liking, +Makes them thus forward in his banishment. +They say, in care of your most royal person, +That if your Highness should intend to sleep, +And charge that no man should disturb your rest, +In pain of your dislike or pain of death, +Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict, +Were there a serpent seen with forked tongue +That slyly glided towards your Majesty, +It were but necessary you were waked, +Lest, being suffered in that harmful slumber, +The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal. +And therefore do they cry, though you forbid, +That they will guard you, whe'er you will or no, +From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is, +With whose envenomed and fatal sting +Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth, +They say, is shamefully bereft of life. + +COMMONS, [within] +An answer from the King, my lord of Salisbury! + +SUFFOLK +'Tis like the Commons, rude unpolished hinds, +Could send such message to their sovereign! +[To Salisbury.] But you, my lord, were glad to be +employed, +To show how quaint an orator you are. +But all the honor Salisbury hath won +Is that he was the lord ambassador +Sent from a sort of tinkers to the King. + +COMMONS, [within] +An answer from the King, or we will all break in. + +KING HENRY +Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, +I thank them for their tender loving care; +And, had I not been cited so by them, +Yet did I purpose as they do entreat. +For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy +Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means. +And therefore, by His Majesty I swear, +Whose far unworthy deputy I am, +He shall not breathe infection in this air +But three days longer, on the pain of death. +[Salisbury exits.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk! + +KING HENRY +Ungentle queen to call him gentle Suffolk! +No more, I say. If thou dost plead for him, +Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath. +Had I but said, I would have kept my word; +But when I swear, it is irrevocable. +[To Suffolk.] If, after three days' space, thou here +be'st found +On any ground that I am ruler of, +The world shall not be ransom for thy life.-- +Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me. +I have great matters to impart to thee. +[All but the Queen and Suffolk exit.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [calling after King Henry and +Warwick] +Mischance and sorrow go along with you! +Heart's discontent and sour affliction +Be playfellows to keep you company! +There's two of you; the devil make a third, +And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps! + +SUFFOLK +Cease, gentle queen, these execrations, +And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch! +Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies? + +SUFFOLK +A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse +them? +Could curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, +I would invent as bitter searching terms, +As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, +Delivered strongly through my fixed teeth, +With full as many signs of deadly hate, +As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave. +My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words; +Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint; +Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract; +Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban; +And even now my burdened heart would break +Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink! +Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste; +Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees; +Their chiefest prospect, murd'ring basilisks; +Their softest touch, as smart as lizards' stings! +Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss, +And boding screech owls make the consort full! +All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment'st thyself, +And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass, +Or like an over-charged gun, recoil +And turn the force of them upon thyself. + +SUFFOLK +You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave? +Now, by the ground that I am banished from, +Well could I curse away a winter's night, +Though standing naked on a mountain top +Where biting cold would never let grass grow, +And think it but a minute spent in sport. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand, +That I may dew it with my mournful tears; +Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place +To wash away my woeful monuments. +[She kisses his hand.] +O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, +That thou mightst think upon these by the seal, +Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for +thee! +So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; +'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, +As one that surfeits thinking on a want. +I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, +Adventure to be banished myself; +And banished I am, if but from thee. +Go, speak not to me. Even now be gone! +O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemned +Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, +Loather a hundred times to part than die. +[They embrace.] +Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee. + +SUFFOLK +Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished, +Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee. +'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence. +A wilderness is populous enough, +So Suffolk had thy heavenly company; +For where thou art, there is the world itself, +With every several pleasure in the world; +And where thou art not, desolation. +I can no more. Live thou to joy thy life; +Myself no joy in naught but that thou liv'st. + +[Enter Vaux.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +Whither goes Vaux so fast? What news, I prithee? + +VAUX To signify unto his Majesty, +That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death; +For suddenly a grievous sickness took him +That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air, +Blaspheming God and cursing men on Earth. +Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost +Were by his side; sometimes he calls the King +And whispers to his pillow, as to him, +The secrets of his overcharged soul. +And I am sent to tell his Majesty +That even now he cries aloud for him. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, tell this heavy message to the King. [Vaux exits.] +Ay me! What is this world? What news are these! +But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss, +Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure? +Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee, +And with the southern clouds contend in tears-- +Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my +sorrows'? +Now get thee hence. The King, thou know'st, is +coming; +If thou be found by me, thou art but dead. + +SUFFOLK +If I depart from thee, I cannot live; +And in thy sight to die, what were it else +But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? +Here could I breathe my soul into the air, +As mild and gentle as the cradle babe +Dying with mother's dug between its lips; +Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad +And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes, +To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth. +So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul, +Or I should breathe it so into thy body, +And then it lived in sweet Elysium. +To die by thee were but to die in jest; +From thee to die were torture more than death. +O, let me stay, befall what may befall! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Away! Though parting be a fretful corrosive, +It is applied to a deathful wound. +To France, sweet Suffolk. Let me hear from thee, +For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe, +I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out. + +SUFFOLK I go. + +QUEEN MARGARET And take my heart with thee. + +SUFFOLK +A jewel locked into the woefull'st cask +That ever did contain a thing of worth! +Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we. +This way fall I to death. + +QUEEN MARGARET This way for me. +[They exit through different doors.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter King Henry, Salisbury and Warwick, to the +Cardinal in bed, raving and staring.] + + +KING HENRY +How fares my lord? Speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. + +CARDINAL +If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasure, +Enough to purchase such another island, +So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain. + +KING HENRY +Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, +Where Death's approach is seen so terrible! + +WARWICK +Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. + +CARDINAL +Bring me unto my trial when you will. +Died he not in his bed? Where should he die? +Can I make men live, whe'er they will or no? +O, torture me no more! I will confess. +Alive again? Then show me where he is. +I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. +He hath no eyes! The dust hath blinded them. +Comb down his hair. Look, look. It stands upright, +Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. +Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary +Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. + +KING HENRY +O, Thou eternal mover of the heavens, +Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! +O, beat away the busy meddling fiend +That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, +And from his bosom purge this black despair! + +WARWICK +See how the pangs of death do make him grin! + +SALISBURY +Disturb him not. Let him pass peaceably. + +KING HENRY +Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!-- +Lord Card'nal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, +Hold up thy hand; make signal of thy hope. +[The Cardinal dies.] +He dies and makes no sign. O, God forgive him! + +WARWICK +So bad a death argues a monstrous life. + +KING HENRY +Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. +Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close, +And let us all to meditation. +[After the curtains are closed around +the bed, they exit. The bed is removed.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Alarum. Offstage fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. +Enter Lieutenant, Suffolk, captive and in disguise, +and Others, including a Master, a Master's Mate, +Walter Whitmore, and Prisoners.] + + +LIEUTENANT +The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day +Is crept into the bosom of the sea, +And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades +That drag the tragic melancholy night, +Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings +Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws +Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. +Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize; +For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs, +Here shall they make their ransom on the sand, +Or with their blood stain this discolored shore.-- +Master, this prisoner freely give I thee.-- +And, thou that art his mate, make boot of this.-- +The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share. +[Three gentlemen prisoners, including Suffolk, +are handed over.] + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +What is my ransom, master? Let me know. + +MASTER +A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head. + +MATE, [to the Second Gentleman] +And so much shall you give, or off goes yours. + +LIEUTENANT +What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns, +And bear the name and port of gentlemen?-- +Cut both the villains' throats--for die you shall; +The lives of those which we have lost in fight +Be counterpoised with such a petty sum! + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +I'll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +And so will I, and write home for it straight. + +WHITMORE, [to Suffolk] +I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, +And therefore to revenge it shalt thou die; +And so should these, if I might have my will. + +LIEUTENANT +Be not so rash. Take ransom; let him live. + +SUFFOLK +Look on my George; I am a gentleman. +Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. + +WHITMORE +And so am I. My name is Walter Whitmore. +[Suffolk starts.] +How now, why starts thou? What, doth death +affright? + +SUFFOLK +Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death. +A cunning man did calculate my birth +And told me that by water I should die. +Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded; +Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded. + +WHITMORE +Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not. +Never yet did base dishonor blur our name +But with our sword we wiped away the blot. +Therefore, when merchantlike I sell revenge, +Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced, +And I proclaimed a coward through the world! + +SUFFOLK +Stay, Whitmore, for thy prisoner is a prince, +The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole. + +WHITMORE +The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags? + +SUFFOLK +Ay, but these rags are no part of the Duke. +Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I? + +LIEUTENANT +But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. + +SUFFOLK +Obscure and lousy swain, King Henry's blood, +The honorable blood of Lancaster, +Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. +Hast thou not kissed thy hand and held my stirrup? +Bareheaded plodded by my footcloth mule, +And thought thee happy when I shook my head? +How often hast thou waited at my cup, +Fed from my trencher, kneeled down at the board, +When I have feasted with Queen Margaret? +Remember it, and let it make thee crestfall'n, +Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride. +How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood +And duly waited for my coming forth? +This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf, +And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue. + +WHITMORE +Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain? + +LIEUTENANT +First let my words stab him as he hath me. + +SUFFOLK +Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou. + +LIEUTENANT +Convey him hence, and on our longboat's side, +Strike off his head. + +SUFFOLK Thou dar'st not for thy own. + +LIEUTENANT +Yes, Pole. + +SUFFOLK Pole! + +LIEUTENANT Pole! Sir Pole! Lord! +Ay, kennel, puddle, sink, whose filth and dirt +Troubles the silver spring where England drinks! +Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth +For swallowing the treasure of the realm. +Thy lips that kissed the Queen shall sweep the +ground, +And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's +death +Against the senseless winds shall grin in vain, +Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again. +And wedded be thou to the hags of hell +For daring to affy a mighty lord +Unto the daughter of a worthless king, +Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem. +By devilish policy art thou grown great, +And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged +With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart. +By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France. +The false revolting Normans thorough thee +Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy +Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts, +And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. +The princely Warwick, and the Nevilles all, +Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain, +As hating thee, are rising up in arms. +And now the house of York, thrust from the crown +By shameful murder of a guiltless king +And lofty, proud, encroaching tyranny, +Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colors +Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine, +Under the which is writ "Invitis nubibus." +The commons here in Kent are up in arms, +And, to conclude, reproach and beggary +Is crept into the palace of our king, +And all by thee.--Away! Convey him hence. + +SUFFOLK +O, that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder +Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges! +Small things make base men proud. This villain +here, +Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more +Than Bargulus, the strong Illyrian pirate. +Drones suck not eagles' blood, but rob beehives. +It is impossible that I should die +By such a lowly vassal as thyself. +Thy words move rage and not remorse in me. +I go of message from the Queen to France. +I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel. + +LIEUTENANT Walter. + +WHITMORE +Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death. + +SUFFOLK +Paene gelidus timor occupat artus. +It is thee I fear. + +WHITMORE +Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee. +What, are you daunted now? Now will you stoop? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +My gracious lord, entreat him; speak him fair. + +SUFFOLK +Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough, +Used to command, untaught to plead for favor. +Far be it we should honor such as these +With humble suit. No, rather let my head +Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any +Save to the God of heaven and to my king; +And sooner dance upon a bloody pole +Than stand uncovered to the vulgar groom. +True nobility is exempt from fear.-- +More can I bear than you dare execute. + +LIEUTENANT +Hale him away, and let him talk no more. + +SUFFOLK +Come, soldiers, show what cruelty you can, +That this my death may never be forgot! +Great men oft die by vile bezonians: +A Roman sworder and banditto slave +Murdered sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand +Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders +Pompey the Great, and Suffolk dies by pirates. +[Walter Whitmore exits with +Suffolk and Others.] + +LIEUTENANT +And as for these whose ransom we have set, +It is our pleasure one of them depart. +[To Second Gentleman.] Therefore come you with us, +and let him go. [Lieutenant and the rest exit. +The First Gentleman remains.] + +[Enter Walter Whitmore with the body +and severed head of Suffolk.] + + +WHITMORE +There let his head and lifeless body lie, +Until the Queen his mistress bury it. +[Walter Whitmore exits.] + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +O, barbarous and bloody spectacle! +His body will I bear unto the King. +If he revenge it not, yet will his friends. +So will the Queen, that living held him dear. +[He exits with the head and body.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Bevis and John Holland with staves.] + + +BEVIS Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a +lath. They have been up these two days. + +HOLLAND They have the more need to sleep now, then. + +BEVIS I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress +the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap +upon it. + +HOLLAND So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I +say, it was never merry world in England since +gentlemen came up. + +BEVIS O miserable age! Virtue is not regarded in +handicraftsmen. + +HOLLAND The nobility think scorn to go in leather +aprons. + +BEVIS Nay, more, the King's Council are no good +workmen. + +HOLLAND True, and yet it is said "Labor in thy vocation," +which is as much to say as "Let the magistrates +be laboring men." And therefore should we +be magistrates. + +BEVIS Thou hast hit it, for there's no better sign of a +brave mind than a hard hand. + +HOLLAND I see them, I see them! There's Best's son, the +tanner of Wingham-- + +BEVIS He shall have the skins of our enemies to make +dog's leather of. + +HOLLAND And Dick the butcher-- + +BEVIS Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's +throat cut like a calf. + +HOLLAND And Smith the weaver. + +BEVIS Argo, their thread of life is spun. + +HOLLAND Come, come, let's fall in with them. + +[Drum. Enter Cade, Dick the butcher, Smith the +weaver, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers, +all with staves.] + + +CADE We, John Cade, so termed of our supposed +father-- + +DICK, [aside] Or rather of stealing a cade of herrings. + +CADE For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired +with the spirit of putting down kings and princes-- +command silence. + +DICK Silence! + +CADE My father was a Mortimer-- + +DICK, [aside] He was an honest man and a good +bricklayer. + +CADE My mother a Plantagenet-- + +DICK, [aside] I knew her well; she was a midwife. + +CADE My wife descended of the Lacys. + +DICK, [aside] She was indeed a peddler's daughter, and +sold many laces. + +SMITH, [aside] But now of late, not able to travel with +her furred pack, she washes bucks here at home. + +CADE Therefore am I of an honorable house. + +DICK, [aside] Ay, by my faith, the field is honorable; +and there was he born, under a hedge, for his +father had never a house but the cage. + +CADE Valiant I am-- + +SMITH, [aside] He must needs, for beggary is valiant. + +CADE I am able to endure much-- + +DICK, [aside] No question of that; for I have seen him +whipped three market-days together. + +CADE I fear neither sword nor fire. + +SMITH, [aside] He need not fear the sword, for his coat +is of proof. + +DICK, [aside] But methinks he should stand in fear of +fire, being burnt i' th' hand for stealing of sheep. + +CADE Be brave, then, for your captain is brave and +vows reformation. There shall be in England seven +halfpenny loaves sold for a penny. The three-hooped +pot shall have ten hoops, and I will make it +felony to drink small beer. All the realm shall be in +common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to +grass. And when I am king, as king I will be-- + +ALL God save your Majesty! + +CADE I thank you, good people.--There shall be no +money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I +will apparel them all in one livery, that they may +agree like brothers and worship me their lord. + +DICK The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers. + +CADE Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable +thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should +be made parchment? That parchment, being scribbled +o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee +stings, but I say, 'tis the beeswax; for I did but seal +once to a thing, and I was never mine own man +since. How now? Who's there? + +[Enter a Clerk of Chartham, under guard.] + + +SMITH The clerk of Chartham. He can write and read +and cast account. + +CADE O, monstrous! + +SMITH We took him setting of boys' copies. + +CADE Here's a villain! + +SMITH H'as a book in his pocket with red letters in 't. + +CADE Nay, then, he is a conjurer. + +DICK Nay, he can make obligations and write court +hand. + +CADE I am sorry for 't. The man is a proper man, of +mine honor. Unless I find him guilty, he shall not +die.--Come hither, sirrah; I must examine thee. +What is thy name? + +CLERK Emmanuel. + +DICK They use to write it on the top of letters.--'Twill +go hard with you. + +CADE Let me alone.--Dost thou use to write thy +name? Or hast thou a mark to thyself, like an +honest, plain-dealing man? + +CLERK Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought +up that I can write my name. + +ALL He hath confessed. Away with him! He's a villain +and a traitor. + +CADE Away with him, I say! Hang him with his pen +and inkhorn about his neck. +[One exits with the Clerk.] + +[Enter Michael.] + + +MICHAEL Where's our general? + +CADE Here I am, thou particular fellow. + +MICHAEL Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his +brother are hard by, with the King's forces. + +CADE Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He +shall be encountered with a man as good as himself. +He is but a knight, is he? + +MICHAEL No. + +CADE To equal him I will make myself a knight +presently. [He kneels.] Rise up Sir John Mortimer. +[He rises.] Now have at him! + +[Enter Sir Humphrey Stafford and his Brother, with +a Herald, Drum, and Soldiers.] + + +STAFFORD +Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent, +Marked for the gallows, lay your weapons down! +Home to your cottages; forsake this groom. +The King is merciful, if you revolt. + +BROTHER +But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood, +If you go forward. Therefore yield, or die. + +CADE +As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not. +It is to you, good people, that I speak, +Over whom, in time to come, I hope to reign, +For I am rightful heir unto the crown. + +STAFFORD +Villain, thy father was a plasterer, +And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not? + +CADE +And Adam was a gardener. + +BROTHER And what of that? + +CADE +Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, +Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not? + +STAFFORD Ay, sir. + +CADE +By her he had two children at one birth. + +BROTHER That's false. + +CADE +Ay, there's the question. But I say 'tis true. +The elder of them, being put to nurse, +Was by a beggar-woman stol'n away, +And, ignorant of his birth and parentage, +Became a bricklayer when he came to age. +His son am I. Deny it if you can. + +DICK +Nay, 'tis too true. Therefore he shall be king. + +SMITH Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, +and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it. +Therefore deny it not. + +STAFFORD +And will you credit this base drudge's words, +That speaks he knows not what? + +ALL +Ay, marry, will we. Therefore get you gone. + +BROTHER +Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this. + +CADE He lies, [aside] for I invented it myself.--Go to, +sirrah. Tell the King from me that, for his father's +sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys went to +span-counter for French crowns, I am content he +shall reign, but I'll be Protector over him. + +DICK And, furthermore, we'll have the Lord Saye's +head for selling the dukedom of Maine. + +CADE And good reason: for thereby is England mained +and fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance +holds it up. Fellow kings, I tell you that that Lord +Saye hath gelded the commonwealth and made it +an eunuch; and, more than that, he can speak +French, and therefore he is a traitor. + +STAFFORD +O, gross and miserable ignorance! + +CADE Nay, answer if you can. The Frenchmen are our +enemies. Go to, then, I ask but this: can he that +speaks with the tongue of an enemy be a good +counselor, or no? + +ALL No, no, and therefore we'll have his head! + +BROTHER, [to Stafford] +Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail, +Assail them with the army of the King. + +STAFFORD +Herald, away, and throughout every town +Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade, +That those which fly before the battle ends +May, even in their wives' and children's sight +Be hanged up for example at their doors.-- +And you that be the King's friends, follow me. +[The Staffords, Soldiers, and Herald exit.] + +CADE +And you that love the Commons, follow me. +Now show yourselves men. 'Tis for liberty! +We will not leave one lord, one gentleman; +Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon, +For they are thrifty, honest men and such +As would, but that they dare not, take our parts. + +DICK They are all in order and march toward us. + +CADE But then are we in order when we are most out +of order. Come, march forward. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarums to the fight, wherein both the Staffords are +slain. Enter Cade and the rest.] + + +CADE Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford? + +DICK Here, sir. + +CADE They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and +thou behaved'st thyself as if thou hadst been in +thine own slaughterhouse. Therefore, thus will I +reward thee: the Lent shall be as long again as it is, +and thou shalt have a license to kill for a hundred +lacking one. + +DICK I desire no more. + +CADE And to speak truth, thou deserv'st no less. This +monument of the victory will I bear. [He puts on +Sir Humphrey Stafford's armor and helmet, or sallet.] +And the bodies shall be dragged at my horse +heels till I do come to London, where we will have +the Mayor's sword borne before us. + +DICK If we mean to thrive and do good, break open +the jails and let out the prisoners. + +CADE Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march +towards London. +[They exit with the bodies of the Staffords.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter King Henry, with a supplication, and +Queen Margaret with Suffolk's head, the Duke +of Buckingham, and the Lord Saye.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind +And makes it fearful and degenerate. +Think therefore on revenge, and cease to weep. +But who can cease to weep and look on this? +Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast, +But where's the body that I should embrace? + +BUCKINGHAM, [to King Henry] +What answer makes your Grace to the rebels' +supplication? + +KING HENRY +I'll send some holy bishop to entreat, +For God forbid so many simple souls +Should perish by the sword! And I myself, +Rather than bloody war shall cut them short, +Will parley with Jack Cade, their general. +But stay, I'll read it over once again. [He reads.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Ah, barbarous villains! Hath this lovely face +Ruled, like a wandering planet, over me, +And could it not enforce them to relent +That were unworthy to behold the same? + +KING HENRY +Lord Saye, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head. + +SAYE +Ay, but I hope your Highness shall have his. + +KING HENRY How now, madam? +Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death? +I fear me, love, if that I had been dead, +Thou wouldst not have mourned so much for me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +KING HENRY +How now, what news? Why com'st thou in such +haste? + +MESSENGER +The rebels are in Southwark. Fly, my lord! +Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer, +Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house, +And calls your Grace usurper, openly, +And vows to crown himself in Westminster. +His army is a ragged multitude +Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless. +Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death +Hath given them heart and courage to proceed. +All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen +They call false caterpillars and intend their death. + +KING HENRY +O, graceless men, they know not what they do! + +BUCKINGHAM +My gracious lord, retire to Killingworth +Until a power be raised to put them down. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive, +These Kentish rebels would be soon appeased! + +KING HENRY Lord Saye, the traitors hateth thee; +Therefore away with us to Killingworth. + +SAYE +So might your Grace's person be in danger. +The sight of me is odious in their eyes; +And therefore in this city will I stay +And live alone as secret as I may. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER +Jack Cade hath gotten London Bridge. +The citizens fly and forsake their houses. +The rascal people, thirsting after prey, +Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear +To spoil the city and your royal court. + +BUCKINGHAM +Then linger not, my lord. Away! Take horse! + +KING HENRY +Come, Margaret. God, our hope, will succor us. + +QUEEN MARGARET +My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased. + +KING HENRY, [to Saye] +Farewell, my lord. Trust not the Kentish rebels. + +BUCKINGHAM +Trust nobody, for fear you be betrayed. + +SAYE +The trust I have is in mine innocence, +And therefore am I bold and resolute. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Lord Scales upon the Tower, walking. Then enters +two or three Citizens below.] + + +SCALES How now? Is Jack Cade slain? + +FIRST CITIZEN No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for +they have won the Bridge, killing all those that +withstand them. The Lord Mayor craves aid of +your Honor from the Tower to defend the city +from the rebels. + +SCALES +Such aid as I can spare you shall command; +But I am troubled here with them myself: +The rebels have essayed to win the Tower. +But get you to Smithfield and gather head, +And thither I will send you Matthew Gough. +Fight for your king, your country, and your lives. +And so farewell, for I must hence again. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Jack Cade and the rest, and strikes his staff on +London Stone.] + + +CADE Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, sitting +upon London Stone, I charge and command +that, of the city's cost, the Pissing Conduit run +nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign. +And now henceforward it shall be treason for any +that calls me other than Lord Mortimer. + +[Enter a Soldier running.] + + +SOLDIER Jack Cade, Jack Cade! + +CADE Knock him down there. [They kill him.] + +DICK If this fellow be wise, he'll never call you Jack +Cade more. I think he hath a very fair warning. +[Takes a paper from the dead Soldier and +reads the message.] +My lord, there's an army gathered together in +Smithfield. + +CADE Come, then, let's go fight with them. But first, go +and set London Bridge on fire, and, if you can, +burn down the Tower too. Come, let's away. +[All exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Alarums. Matthew Gough is slain, and all the rest. +Then enter Jack Cade with his company.] + + +CADE So, sirs. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; +others to th' Inns of Court. Down with them all! + +DICK I have a suit unto your Lordship. + +CADE Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word. + +DICK Only that the laws of England may come out of +your mouth. + +HOLLAND, [aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law, then, for he +was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not +whole yet. + +SMITH, [aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law, for +his breath stinks with eating toasted cheese. + +CADE I have thought upon it; it shall be so. Away! +Burn all the records of the realm. My mouth shall +be the Parliament of England. + +HOLLAND, [aside] Then we are like to have biting +statutes--unless his teeth be pulled out. + +CADE And henceforward all things shall be in +common. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER My lord, a prize, a prize! Here's the Lord +Saye, which sold the towns in France, he that +made us pay one-and-twenty fifteens, and one +shilling to the pound, the last subsidy. + +[Enter George with the Lord Saye.] + + +CADE Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times.--Ah, +thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord, now +art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction +regal. What canst thou answer to my Majesty for +giving up of Normandy unto Monsieur Basimecu, +the Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by +these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, +that I am the besom that must sweep the +court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast +most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm +in erecting a grammar school; and whereas, +before, our forefathers had no other books but the +score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be +used, and, contrary to the King his crown and dignity, +thou hast built a paper mill. It will be proved +to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually +talk of a noun and a verb and such abominable +words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. +Thou hast appointed justices of peace to call poor +men before them about matters they were not able +to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison; +and, because they could not read, thou hast +hanged them, when indeed only for that cause +they have been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride +on a footcloth, dost thou not? + +SAYE What of that? + +CADE Marry, thou oughtst not to let thy horse wear a +cloak when honester men than thou go in their +hose and doublets. + +DICK And work in their shirt too--as myself, for example, +that am a butcher. + +SAYE You men of Kent-- + +DICK What say you of Kent? + +SAYE Nothing but this: 'tis bona terra, mala gens. + +CADE Away with him, away with him! He speaks +Latin. + +SAYE +Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will. +Kent, in the commentaries Caesar writ, +Is termed the civil'st place of all this isle. +Sweet is the country, because full of riches; +The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy; +Which makes me hope you are not void of pity. +I sold not Maine; I lost not Normandy; +Yet to recover them would lose my life. +Justice with favor have I always done; +Prayers and tears have moved me; gifts could never. +When have I aught exacted at your hands +Kent to maintain, the King, the realm, and you? +Large gifts have I bestowed on learned clerks, +Because my book preferred me to the King. +And seeing ignorance is the curse of God, +Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven, +Unless you be possessed with devilish spirits, +You cannot but forbear to murder me. +This tongue hath parleyed unto foreign kings +For your behoof-- + +CADE Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field? + +SAYE +Great men have reaching hands. Oft have I struck +Those that I never saw, and struck them dead. + +GEORGE O monstrous coward! What, to come behind +folks? + +SAYE +These cheeks are pale for watching for your good. + +CADE Give him a box o' th' ear, and that will make 'em +red again. + +SAYE +Long sitting to determine poor men's causes +Hath made me full of sickness and diseases. + +CADE You shall have a hempen caudle, then, and +the help of hatchet. + +DICK Why dost thou quiver, man? + +SAYE The palsy, and not fear, provokes me. + +CADE Nay, he nods at us, as who should say "I'll be +even with you." I'll see if his head will stand steadier +on a pole, or no. Take him away, and behead +him. + +SAYE +Tell me, wherein have I offended most? +Have I affected wealth or honor? Speak. +Are my chests filled up with extorted gold? +Is my apparel sumptuous to behold? +Whom have I injured, that you seek my death? +These hands are free from guiltless blood-shedding, +This breast from harboring foul deceitful thoughts. +O, let me live! + +CADE I feel remorse in myself with his words, but I'll +bridle it. He shall die, an it be but for pleading so +well for his life. Away with him! He has a familiar +under his tongue; he speaks not i' God's name. Go, +take him away, I say, and strike off his head +presently; and then break into his son-in-law's +house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off his head; +and bring them both upon two poles hither. + +ALL It shall be done. + +SAYE +Ah, countrymen, if when you make your prayers, +God should be so obdurate as yourselves, +How would it fare with your departed souls? +And therefore yet relent, and save my life. + +CADE Away with him, and do as I command you. +[Some exit with Lord Saye.] +The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a +head on his shoulders unless he pay me tribute. +There shall not a maid be married but she shall +pay to me her maidenhead ere they have it. Men +shall hold of me in capite; and we charge and command +that their wives be as free as heart can wish +or tongue can tell. + +DICK My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and take +up commodities upon our bills? + +CADE Marry, presently. + +ALL O, brave! + +[Enter one with the heads of Lord Saye and Sir James +Cromer on poles.] + + +CADE But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, +for they loved well when they were alive. [The +heads are brought together.] Now part them again, +lest they consult about the giving up of some more +towns in France. Soldiers, defer the spoil of the +city until night, for, with these borne before us +instead of maces, will we ride through the streets +and at every corner have them kiss. Away! +[He exits with his company.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Alarum, and retreat. Enter again Cade and +all his rabblement.] + + +CADE Up Fish Street! Down Saint Magnus' Corner! +Kill and knock down! Throw them into Thames! +[Sound a parley.] +What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to +sound retreat or parley when I command them +kill? + +[Enter Buckingham and old Clifford with Attendants.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee. +Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the King +Unto the Commons, whom thou hast misled, +And here pronounce free pardon to them all +That will forsake thee and go home in peace. + +CLIFFORD +What say you, countrymen? Will you relent +And yield to mercy whil'st 'tis offered you, +Or let a rabble lead you to your deaths? +Who loves the King and will embrace his pardon, +Fling up his cap and say "God save his Majesty!" +Who hateth him and honors not his father, +Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake, +Shake he his weapon at us and pass by. + +ALL God save the King! God save the King! +[They fling their caps in the air.] + +CADE What, Buckingham and Clifford, are you so +brave?--And, you base peasants, do you believe +him? Will you needs be hanged with your pardons +about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke +through London gates, that you should leave me at +the White Hart in Southwark? I thought you +would never have given out these arms till you had +recovered your ancient freedom. But you are all +recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery +to the nobility. Let them break your backs with +burdens, take your houses over your heads, ravish +your wives and daughters before your faces. For +me, I will make shift for one, and so God's curse +light upon you all! + +ALL We'll follow Cade! We'll follow Cade! + +CLIFFORD Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, +That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him? +Will he conduct you through the heart of France +And make the meanest of you earls and dukes? +Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to, +Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil, +Unless by robbing of your friends and us. +Were 't not a shame that, whilst you live at jar, +The fearful French, whom you late vanquished, +Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you? +Methinks already in this civil broil +I see them lording it in London streets, +Crying "Villiago!" unto all they meet. +Better ten thousand baseborn Cades miscarry +Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. +To France, to France, and get what you have lost! +Spare England, for it is your native coast. +Henry hath money; you are strong and manly. +God on our side, doubt not of victory. + +ALL +A Clifford! A Clifford! We'll follow the King and +Clifford! + +CADE, [aside] Was ever feather so lightly blown to and +fro as this multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth +hales them to an hundred mischiefs and makes +them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads +together to surprise me. My sword make way for +me, for here is no staying!--In despite of the devils +and hell, have through the very middest of you! +And heavens and honor be witness that no want of +resolution in me, but only my followers' base and +ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my +heels. [He exits, running.] + +BUCKINGHAM +What, is he fled? Go, some, and follow him; +And he that brings his head unto the King +Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward. +[Some of them exit.] +Follow me, soldiers. We'll devise a means +To reconcile you all unto the King. +[All exit.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Sound trumpets. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, +and Somerset on the terrace, aloft.] + + +KING HENRY +Was ever king that joyed an earthly throne +And could command no more content than I? +No sooner was I crept out of my cradle +But I was made a king at nine months old. +Was never subject longed to be a king +As I do long and wish to be a subject! + +[Enter Buckingham and old Clifford.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Health and glad tidings to your Majesty! + +KING HENRY +Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surprised, +Or is he but retired to make him strong? + +[Enter below multitudes with halters about their necks.] + + +CLIFFORD +He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield +And, humbly thus, with halters on their necks, +Expect your Highness' doom of life or death. + +KING HENRY +Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates +To entertain my vows of thanks and praise! +Soldiers, this day have you redeemed your lives +And showed how well you love your prince and +country. +Continue still in this so good a mind, +And Henry, though he be infortunate, +Assure yourselves, will never be unkind. +And so with thanks and pardon to you all, +I do dismiss you to your several countries. + +ALL God save the King! God save the King! +[The multitudes exit.] + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Please it your Grace to be advertised +The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland +And, with a puissant and a mighty power +Of gallowglasses and stout kerns, +Is marching hitherward in proud array, +And still proclaimeth, as he comes along, +His arms are only to remove from thee +The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor. + +KING HENRY +Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York +distressed, +Like to a ship that, having scaped a tempest, +Is straightway calmed and boarded with a pirate. +But now is Cade driven back, his men dispersed, +And now is York in arms to second him. +I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him, +And ask him what's the reason of these arms. +Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower.-- +And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither +Until his army be dismissed from him. + +SOMERSET My lord, +I'll yield myself to prison willingly, +Or unto death, to do my country good. + +KING HENRY, [to Buckingham] +In any case, be not too rough in terms, +For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language. + +BUCKINGHAM +I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal +As all things shall redound unto your good. + +KING HENRY +Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better, +For yet may England curse my wretched reign. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 10 +======== +[Enter Cade.] + + +CADE Fie on ambitions! Fie on myself, that have a +sword and yet am ready to famish! These five days +have I hid me in these woods and durst not peep +out, for all the country is laid for me. But now am +I so hungry that, if I might have a lease of my life +for a thousand years, I could stay no longer. +Wherefore, o'er a brick wall have I climbed into +this garden, to see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet +another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's +stomach this hot weather. And I think this word +sallet was born to do me good; for many a time, +but for a sallet, my brainpan had been cleft with a +brown bill; and many a time, when I have been dry +and bravely marching, it hath served me instead of +a quart pot to drink in; and now the word sallet +must serve me to feed on. + +[Enter Iden and his Men.] + + +IDEN +Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court +And may enjoy such quiet walks as these? +This small inheritance my father left me +Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy. +I seek not to wax great by others' waning, +Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy. +Sufficeth that I have maintains my state +And sends the poor well pleased from my gate. + +CADE, [aside] Here's the lord of the soil come to seize +me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without +leave.--Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me and get a +thousand crowns of the King by carrying my head +to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich +and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou +and I part. [He draws his sword.] + +IDEN +Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, +I know thee not. Why, then, should I betray thee? +Is 't not enough to break into my garden +And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds, +Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner, +But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms? + +CADE Brave thee? Ay, by the best blood that ever was +broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I +have eat no meat these five days, yet come thou +and thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as +dead as a doornail, I pray God I may never eat +grass more. + +IDEN +Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands, +That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent, +Took odds to combat a poor famished man. +Oppose thy steadfast gazing eyes to mine; +See if thou canst outface me with thy looks. +Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser; +Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, +Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon. +My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast; +And if mine arm be heaved in the air, +Thy grave is digged already in the earth. +As for words, whose greatness answers words, +Let this my sword report what speech forbears. +[He draws his sword.] + +CADE By my valor, the most complete champion that +ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge or cut not +out the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere +thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my +knees thou mayst be turned to hobnails. +[Here they fight, and Cade falls.] +O, I am slain! Famine, and no other, hath slain me. +Let ten thousand devils come against me, and give +me but the ten meals I have lost, and I'd defy them +all. Wither, garden, and be henceforth a burying +place to all that do dwell in this house, because the +unconquered soul of Cade is fled. + +IDEN +Is 't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor? +Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed, +And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead. +Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point, +But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat +To emblaze the honor that thy master got. + +CADE Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. Tell +Kent from me she hath lost her best man, and +exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never +feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valor. +[Dies.] + +IDEN +How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge! +Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee! +And as I thrust thy body in with my sword, +So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell. +Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels +Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave, +And there cut off thy most ungracious head, +Which I will bear in triumph to the King, +Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. +[He exits with his Men, dragging Cade's body.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter York, wearing the white rose, and his army of +Irish, with Attendants, Drum and Colors.] + + +YORK +From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right +And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head. +Ring, bells, aloud! Burn, bonfires, clear and bright +To entertain great England's lawful king! +Ah, sancta maiestas, who would not buy thee dear? +Let them obey that knows not how to rule. +This hand was made to handle naught but gold. +I cannot give due action to my words +Except a sword or scepter balance it. +A scepter shall it have, have I a soul, +On which I'll toss the fleur-de-luce of France. + +[Enter Buckingham, wearing the red rose.] + +[Aside.] Whom have we here? Buckingham, to +disturb me? +The King hath sent him, sure. I must dissemble. + +BUCKINGHAM +York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well. + +YORK +Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting. +Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure? + +BUCKINGHAM +A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, +To know the reason of these arms in peace; +Or why thou, being a subject as I am, +Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, +Should raise so great a power without his leave, +Or dare to bring thy force so near the court. + +YORK, [aside] +Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great. +O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, +I am so angry at these abject terms! +And now, like Ajax Telamonius, +On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury. +I am far better born than is the King, +More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts. +But I must make fair weather yet awhile, +Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.-- +Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me, +That I have given no answer all this while. +My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. +The cause why I have brought this army hither +Is to remove proud Somerset from the King, +Seditious to his Grace and to the state. + +BUCKINGHAM +That is too much presumption on thy part. +But if thy arms be to no other end, +The King hath yielded unto thy demand: +The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower. + +YORK +Upon thine honor, is he prisoner? + +BUCKINGHAM +Upon mine honor, he is prisoner. + +YORK +Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers.-- +Soldiers, I thank you all. Disperse yourselves. +Meet me tomorrow in Saint George's field; +You shall have pay and everything you wish. +[Soldiers exit.] +And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, +Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons, +As pledges of my fealty and love; +I'll send them all as willing as I live. +Lands, goods, horse, armor, anything I have +Is his to use, so Somerset may die. + +BUCKINGHAM +York, I commend this kind submission. +We twain will go into his Highness' tent. +[They walk arm in arm.] + +[Enter King Henry and Attendants.] + + +KING HENRY +Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us +That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm? + +YORK +In all submission and humility +York doth present himself unto your Highness. + +KING HENRY +Then what intends these forces thou dost bring? + +YORK +To heave the traitor Somerset from hence +And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade, +Who since I heard to be discomfited. + +[Enter Iden, with Cade's head.] + + +IDEN +If one so rude and of so mean condition +May pass into the presence of a king, +Lo, I present your Grace a traitor's head, +The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew. + +KING HENRY +The head of Cade? Great God, how just art Thou! +O, let me view his visage, being dead, +That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. +Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him? + +IDEN I was, an 't like your Majesty. + +KING HENRY +How art thou called? And what is thy degree? + +IDEN +Alexander Iden, that's my name, +A poor esquire of Kent that loves his king. + +BUCKINGHAM +So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss +He were created knight for his good service. + +KING HENRY +Iden, kneel down. [He kneels.] Rise up a knight. [He +rises.] +We give thee for reward a thousand marks, +And will that thou henceforth attend on us. + +IDEN +May Iden live to merit such a bounty, +And never live but true unto his liege! + +[Enter Queen Margaret and Somerset, +wearing the red rose.] + + +KING HENRY, [aside to Buckingham] +See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with th' Queen. +Go bid her hide him quickly from the Duke. +[Buckingham whispers to the Queen.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head, +But boldly stand and front him to his face. + +YORK, [aside] +How now? Is Somerset at liberty? +Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts, +And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart. +Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?-- +False king, why hast thou broken faith with me, +Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse? +"King" did I call thee? No, thou art not king, +Not fit to govern and rule multitudes, +Which dar'st not--no, nor canst not--rule a traitor. +That head of thine doth not become a crown; +Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff, +And not to grace an awful princely scepter. +That gold must round engirt these brows of mine, +Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear, +Is able with the change to kill and cure. +Here is a hand to hold a scepter up +And with the same to act controlling laws. +Give place. By heaven, thou shalt rule no more +O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler. + +SOMERSET +O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York, +Of capital treason 'gainst the King and crown. +Obey, audacious traitor. Kneel for grace. + +YORK +Wouldst have me kneel? First let me ask of these +If they can brook I bow a knee to man. +[To an Attendant.] Sirrah, call in my sons to be my +bail. [Attendant exits.] +I know, ere they will have me go to ward, +They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [to Buckingham] +Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain, +To say if that the bastard boys of York +Shall be the surety for their traitor father. +[Buckingham exits.] + +YORK, [to Queen Margaret] +O, blood-bespotted Neapolitan, +Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge! +The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, +Shall be their father's bail, and bane to those +That for my surety will refuse the boys. + +[Enter York's sons Edward and Richard, +wearing the white rose.] + +See where they come; I'll warrant they'll make it +good. + +[Enter old Clifford and his Son, wearing the red rose.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. + +CLIFFORD, [kneeling before King Henry] +Health and all happiness to my lord the King. +[He rises.] + +YORK +I thank thee, Clifford. Say, what news with thee? +Nay, do not fright us with an angry look. +We are thy sovereign, Clifford; kneel again. +For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee. + +CLIFFORD +This is my king, York; I do not mistake, +But thou mistakes me much to think I do.-- +To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad? + +KING HENRY +Ay, Clifford, a bedlam and ambitious humor +Makes him oppose himself against his king. + +CLIFFORD +He is a traitor. Let him to the Tower, +And chop away that factious pate of his. + +QUEEN MARGARET +He is arrested, but will not obey. +His sons, he says, shall give their words for him. + +YORK Will you not, sons? + +EDWARD +Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. + +RICHARD +And if words will not, then our weapons shall. + +CLIFFORD +Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! + +YORK +Look in a glass, and call thy image so. +I am thy king and thou a false-heart traitor. +Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, +That, with the very shaking of their chains, +They may astonish these fell-lurking curs. +[To an Attendant.] Bid Salisbury and Warwick come +to me. [Attendant exits.] + +[Enter the Earls of Warwick and Salisbury, wearing the +white rose.] + + +CLIFFORD +Are these thy bears? We'll bait thy bears to death +And manacle the bearherd in their chains, +If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting place. + +RICHARD +Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur +Run back and bite because he was withheld, +Who, being suffered with the bear's fell paw, +Hath clapped his tail between his legs and cried; +And such a piece of service will you do +If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick. + +CLIFFORD +Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, +As crooked in thy manners as thy shape! + +YORK +Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon. + +CLIFFORD +Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves. + +KING HENRY +Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?-- +Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, +Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son! +What, wilt thou on thy deathbed play the ruffian +And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles? +O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty? +If it be banished from the frosty head, +Where shall it find a harbor in the earth? +Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war, +And shame thine honorable age with blood? +Why art thou old and want'st experience? +Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it? +For shame! In duty bend thy knee to me +That bows unto the grave with mickle age. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I have considered with myself +The title of this most renowned duke, +And in my conscience do repute his Grace +The rightful heir to England's royal seat. + +KING HENRY +Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me? + +SALISBURY I have. + +KING HENRY +Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath? + +SALISBURY +It is great sin to swear unto a sin, +But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. +Who can be bound by any solemn vow +To do a murd'rous deed, to rob a man, +To force a spotless virgin's chastity, +To reave the orphan of his patrimony, +To wring the widow from her customed right, +And have no other reason for this wrong +But that he was bound by a solemn oath? + +QUEEN MARGARET +A subtle traitor needs no sophister. + +KING HENRY, [to an Attendant] +Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. +[Attendant exits.] + +YORK, [to King Henry] +Call Buckingham and all the friends thou hast, +I am resolved for death or dignity. + +CLIFFORD +The first, I warrant thee, if dreams prove true. + +WARWICK +You were best to go to bed and dream again, +To keep thee from the tempest of the field. + +CLIFFORD +I am resolved to bear a greater storm +Than any thou canst conjure up today; +And that I'll write upon thy burgonet, +Might I but know thee by thy house's badge. + +WARWICK +Now, by my father's badge, old Neville's crest, +The rampant bear chained to the ragged staff, +This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet-- +As on a mountaintop the cedar shows +That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm-- +Even to affright thee with the view thereof. + +CLIFFORD +And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear +And tread it under foot with all contempt, +Despite the bearherd that protects the bear. + +YOUNG CLIFFORD +And so to arms, victorious father, +To quell the rebels and their complices. + +RICHARD +Fie! Charity, for shame! Speak not in spite, +For you shall sup with Jesu Christ tonight. + +YOUNG CLIFFORD +Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell! + +RICHARD +If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. +[They exit separately.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[The sign of the Castle Inn is displayed. Alarms. +Enter Warwick, wearing the white rose.] + + +WARWICK +Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls! +An if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, +Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum +And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, +Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me; +Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, +Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. + +[Enter York, wearing the white rose.] + +How now, my noble lord? What, all afoot? + +YORK +The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, +But match to match I have encountered him +And made a prey for carrion kites and crows +Even of the bonny beast he loved so well. + +[Enter old Clifford, wearing the red rose.] + + +WARWICK +Of one or both of us the time is come. + +YORK +Hold, Warwick! Seek thee out some other chase, +For I myself must hunt this deer to death. + +WARWICK +Then, nobly, York! 'Tis for a crown thou fight'st.-- +As I intend, Clifford, to thrive today, +It grieves my soul to leave thee unassailed. +[Warwick exits.] + +CLIFFORD +What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause? + +YORK +With thy brave bearing should I be in love, +But that thou art so fast mine enemy. + +CLIFFORD +Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, +But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason. + +YORK +So let it help me now against thy sword +As I in justice and true right express it! + +CLIFFORD +My soul and body on the action both! + +YORK +A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly. +[They fight and Clifford falls.] + +CLIFFORD +La fin courrone les oeuvres. [He dies.] + +YORK +Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. +Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! +[He exits.] + +[Enter young Clifford, wearing the red rose.] + + +YOUNG CLIFFORD +Shame and confusion! All is on the rout. +Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds +Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell, +Whom angry heavens do make their minister, +Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part +Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly. +He that is truly dedicate to war +Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself +Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, +The name of valor. [He sees his father, lying dead.] O, +let the vile world end +And the premised flames of the last day +Knit Earth and heaven together! +Now let the general trumpet blow his blast, +Particularities and petty sounds +To cease! Wast thou ordained, dear father, +To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve +The silver livery of advised age, +And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus +To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight +My heart is turned to stone, and while 'tis mine, +It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; +No more will I their babes. Tears virginal +Shall be to me even as the dew to fire; +And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims, +Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. +Henceforth I will not have to do with pity. +Meet I an infant of the house of York, +Into as many gobbets will I cut it +As wild Medea young Absyrtis did. +In cruelty will I seek out my fame. +[He takes his father's body onto his back.] +Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house; +As did Aeneas old Anchises bear, +So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders. +But then Aeneas bare a living load, +Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. [He exits.] + +[Enter Richard, wearing the white rose, and Somerset, +wearing the red rose, to fight.] + +[Richard kills Somerset under the sign of Castle Inn.] + + +RICHARD So lie thou there. +For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, +The Castle in Saint Albans, Somerset +Hath made the wizard famous in his death. +Sword, hold thy temper! Heart, be wrathful still! +Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [He exits.] + +[Fight. Excursions. Enter King Henry, Queen +Margaret, both wearing the red rose, and Others.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +Away, my lord! You are slow. For shame, away! + +KING HENRY +Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay! + +QUEEN MARGARET +What are you made of? You'll nor fight nor fly. +Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defense +To give the enemy way, and to secure us +By what we can, which can no more but fly. +[Alarum afar off.] +If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom +Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape, +As well we may--if not through your neglect-- +We shall to London get, where you are loved +And where this breach now in our fortunes made +May readily be stopped. + +[Enter Young Clifford, wearing the red rose.] + + +YOUNG CLIFFORD +But that my heart's on future mischief set, +I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly; +But fly you must. Uncurable discomfit +Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts. +Away, for your relief! And we will live +To see their day and them our fortune give. +Away, my lord, away! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarum. Retreat. Enter York, Edward, Richard, +Warwick, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose, +with Drum and Colors.] + + +YORK +Of Salisbury, who can report of him, +That winter lion, who in rage forgets +Aged contusions and all brush of time, +And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, +Repairs him with occasion? This happy day +Is not itself, nor have we won one foot, +If Salisbury be lost. + +RICHARD My noble father, +Three times today I holp him to his horse, +Three times bestrid him. Thrice I led him off, +Persuaded him from any further act; +But still, where danger was, still there I met him, +And, like rich hangings in a homely house, +So was his will in his old feeble body. +But, noble as he is, look where he comes. + +[Enter Salisbury, wearing the white rose.] + +Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought today! + +SALISBURY +By th' Mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard. +God knows how long it is I have to live, +And it hath pleased Him that three times today +You have defended me from imminent death. +Well, lords, we have not got that which we have; +'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, +Being opposites of such repairing nature. + +YORK +I know our safety is to follow them; +For, as I hear, the King is fled to London +To call a present court of Parliament. +Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.-- +What says Lord Warwick? Shall we after them? + +WARWICK +After them? Nay, before them, if we can. +Now, by my hand, lords, 'twas a glorious day. +Saint Albans battle won by famous York +Shall be eternized in all age to come.-- +Sound drum and trumpets, and to London all; +And more such days as these to us befall! +[Flourish. They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-3_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-3_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..69e4cc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-vi-part-3_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5100 @@ +Henry VI, Part 3 +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-vi-part-3/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING HENRY VI +QUEEN MARGARET +PRINCE EDWARD +Lord CLIFFORD +Lancastrian supporters: + Earl of NORTHUMBERLAND + Earl of WESTMORLAND + Duke of EXETER + Earl of OXFORD + Sir John SOMERVILLE +Supporters first of York, then of Lancaster: + Earl of WARWICK + Marquess of MONTAGUE + Duke of SOMERSET +Richard Plantagenet, Duke of YORK +Sons of Richard, Duke of York: + EDWARD, Earl of March, later KING EDWARD IV + GEORGE, later Duke of CLARENCE + RICHARD, later Duke of GLOUCESTER + RUTLAND +SIR JOHN Mortimer, York's uncle +LADY GREY, later QUEEN ELIZABETH +Earl RIVERS, brother to the queen +Yorkist supporters: + Duke of NORFOLK + Earl of PEMBROKE + Lord STAFFORD + Lord HASTINGS + Sir William STANLEY + Sir John MONTGOMERY +KING LEWIS of France +LADY BONA, his sister-in-law +Rutland's TUTOR +A SON that has killed his father +A FATHER that has killed his son +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +A NOBLEMAN +POST +FIRST WATCH +SECOND WATCH +THIRD WATCH +HUNTSMAN +LIEUTENANT at the Tower of London +FIRST MESSENGER +SECOND MESSENGER +Other MESSENGERS +MAYOR of York +SOLDIER +Soldiers, Servants, Attendants, Drummers, Trumpeters, Sir Hugh Mortimer, Henry, Earl of Richmond, Aldermen of York, Mayor of Coventry, Nurse, the infant prince, and Others + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York; +Edward; Richard; Norfolk; Montague; Warwick; and +Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.] + + +WARWICK +I wonder how the King escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slyly stole away and left his men; +Whereat the great lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheered up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford, and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front and, breaking in, +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerous. +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow. +That this is true, father, behold his blood. +[He shows his bloody sword.] + +MONTAGUE, [to York, showing his sword] +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encountered as the battles joined. + +RICHARD, [holding up a severed head] +Speak thou for me, and tell them what I did. + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your Grace dead, my lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I, victorious prince of York. +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat. Possess it, York, +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs'. + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will, +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you. He that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk. Stay by me, my lords.-- +And soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. +[They go up onto a dais or platform.] + +WARWICK +And when the King comes, offer him no violence +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. +[Soldiers exit or retire out of sight.] + +YORK +The Queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council. +By words or blows, here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Armed as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +"The Bloody Parliament" shall this be called +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us bywords to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute. +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the King nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares. +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. +[York sits in the chair of state.] + +[Flourish. Enter King Henry, Clifford, Northumberland, +Westmorland, Exeter, and the rest, all wearing +the red rose.] + + +KING HENRY +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state! Belike he means, +Backed by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father, +And thine, Lord Clifford, and you both have vowed +revenge +On him, his sons, his favorites, and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORLAND +What, shall we suffer this? Let's pluck him down. +My heart for anger burns. I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmorland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons such as he. +He durst not sit there had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the Parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin. Be it so. + +KING HENRY +Ah, know you not the city favors them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the Duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the Parliament House! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words, and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use.-- +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne +And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet. +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down. He made thee Duke of +York. + +YORK +It was my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford, that's Richard, Duke of York. + +KING HENRY, [to York] +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so. Content thyself. + +WARWICK, [to King Henry] +Be Duke of Lancaster. Let him be king. + +WESTMORLAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster, +And that the lord of Westmorland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers and, with colors spread, +Marched through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORLAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsmen, and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more, lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford, how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March. +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY +The Lord Protector lost it and not I. +When I was crowned, I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you +lose.-- +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so. Set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE, [to York] +Good brother, as thou lov'st and honorest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand caviling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the King will fly. + +YORK Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY +Peace thou, and give King Henry leave to speak! + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first. Hear him, lords, +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No. First shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colors, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY, [aside] +I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK What then? + +KING HENRY +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resigned the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrained, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No, for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY, [aside] +All will revolt from me and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to York] +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived. 'Tis not thy southern power +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the Duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defense. +May that ground gape and swallow me alive +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father. + +KING HENRY +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.-- +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK, [to King Henry] +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. +[He stamps with his foot, +and the Soldiers show themselves.] + +KING HENRY +My lord of Warwick, hear but one word: +Let me for this my lifetime reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou liv'st. + +KING HENRY +I am content. Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the Prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORLAND +Base, fearful, and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORLAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the Queen these news. + +WESTMORLAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honor bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed. + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandoned and despised! +[Westmorland, Northumberland, Clifford, +and their Soldiers exit.] + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may. [(To York.)] I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs forever, +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war and, whilst I live, +To honor me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him. +[York stands, and King Henry ascends the dais.] + +KING HENRY, [to York] +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! +[They embrace.] + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes. +[Sennet. Here they come down.] + +YORK, [to King Henry] +Farewell, my gracious lord. I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea, from whence I came. +[York, Edward, Richard, Warwick, Norfolk, +Montague, and their Soldiers exit.] + +KING HENRY +And I with grief and sorrow to the court. + +[Enter Queen Margaret, with Prince Edward.] + + +EXETER +Here comes the Queen, whose looks bewray her +anger. +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY Exeter, so will I. +[They begin to exit.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me. I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man, would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father. +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourished him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood +there, +Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me. +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY +Pardon me, Margaret.--Pardon me, sweet son. +The Earl of Warwick and the Duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee? Art thou king and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch, +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son, and me, +And giv'n unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance! +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it but to make thy sepulcher +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is Chancellor and the lord of Callice; +Stern Falconbridge commands the Narrow Seas; +The Duke is made Protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? Such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have tossed me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honor. +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of Parliament be repealed +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colors +Will follow mine if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee.--Come, son, let's away. +Our army is ready. Come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already. Get thee gone. + +KING HENRY +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murdered by his enemies! + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field, +I'll see your Grace. Till then, I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away. We may not linger thus. +[Queen Margaret and Prince Edward exit.] + +KING HENRY +Poor queen! How love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son. +The loss of those three lords torments my heart. +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Richard, Edward, and Montague, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +[Enter the Duke of York.] + + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother, at a strife? +What is your quarrel? How began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your Grace and us: +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine, boy? Not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir; therefore enjoy it now. +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken. +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No, God forbid your Grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate +That hath authority over him that swears. +Henry had none, but did usurp the place. +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we linger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough. I will be king or die.-- +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.-- +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk +And tell him privily of our intent.-- +You, Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise; +In them I trust, for they are soldiers +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employed, what resteth more +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the King not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +But stay, what news? Why com'st thou in such post? + +MESSENGER +The Queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle. +She is hard by with twenty thousand men. +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. [He exits.] + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What, think'st thou that we fear +them?-- +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London. +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left Protectors of the King, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go. I'll win them, fear it not. +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. +[Montague exits.] + +[Enter Sir John Mortimer, and his brother, +Sir Hugh Mortimer.] + + +YORK +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour. +The army of the Queen mean to besiege us. + +SIR JOHN +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need. +A woman's general; what should we fear? +[A march afar off.] + +EDWARD +I hear their drums. Let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty: though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France +Whenas the enemy hath been ten to one. +Why should I not now have the like success? +[Alarum. They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Rutland and his Tutor.] + + +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to scape their hands? + +[Enter Clifford with Soldiers, all wearing the red rose.] + +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes. + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away. Thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +TUTOR +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD Soldiers, away with him. + +TUTOR +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man. +[He exits, dragged off by Soldiers.] + +CLIFFORD, [approaching Rutland] +How now? Is he dead already? Or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey; +And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword +And not with such a cruel threat'ning look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath. +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy. My father's blood +Hath stopped the passage where thy words should +enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again; +He is a man and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me. +No, if I digged up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul, +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- [He raises his rapier.] + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray: sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm. Why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days, +And when I give occasion of offense +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause? Thy father slew my father; therefore die. +[He stabs Rutland.] + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! [He dies.] + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet, I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood, cleaving to my blade, +Shall rust upon my weapon till thy blood, +Congealed with this, do make me wipe off both. +[He exits, with Soldiers carrying off Rutland's body.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Richard, Duke of York, wearing the +white rose.] + + +YORK +The army of the Queen hath got the field. +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly like ships before the wind, +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them; +But this I know: they have demeaned themselves +Like men borne to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me +And thrice cried "Courage, father, fight it out!" +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encountered him; +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried "Charge, and give no foot of ground!" +And cried "A crown or else a glorious tomb; +A scepter or an earthly sepulcher!" +With this we charged again; but, out alas, +We budged again, as I have seen a swan +With bootless labor swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. +[A short alarum within.] +Ah, hark, the fatal followers do pursue, +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury; +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury. +The sands are numbered that makes up my life. +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +[Enter Queen Margaret, Clifford, Northumberland, +the young Prince Edward, and Soldiers, +all wearing the red rose.] + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage. +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm +With downright payment showed unto my father. +Now Phaeton hath tumbled from his car +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the Phoenix', may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all; +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? What, multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again +And in thy thought o'errun my former time; +And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face +And bite thy tongue that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this. + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckler with thee blows twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford, for a thousand causes +I would prolong a while the traitor's life.-- +Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford, do not honor him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart. +What valor were it when a cur doth grin +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages, +And ten to one is no impeach of valor. +[They attack York.] + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the coney struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquered booty; +So true men yield with robbers, so o'ermatched. +[York is overcome.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to Queen Margaret] +What would your Grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +[They place York on a small prominence.] +What, was it you that would be England's king? +Was 't you that reveled in our parliament +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now, +The wanton Edward and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crookback prodigy, +Dickie, your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York, I stained this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +[She gives him a bloody cloth.] +Alas, poor York, but that I hate thee deadly +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee grieve to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parched thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? Thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport.-- +York cannot speak unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! [She is handed a paper crown.] +And, lords, bow low to him. +Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on. +[She puts the crown on York's head.] +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king. +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crowned so soon and broke his solemn oath?-- +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory +And rob his temples of the diadem +Now, in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable. +Off with the crown and, with the crown, his head; +And whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay, let's hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of +France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth: +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph like an Amazonian trull +Upon their woes whom Fortune captivates. +But that thy face is vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not +shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils, and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud, +But God He knows thy share thereof is small. +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wondered at. +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable. +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us +Or as the south to the Septentrion. +O, tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide, +How couldst thou drain the lifeblood of the child +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible; +Thou, stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bidd'st thou me rage? Why, now thou hast thy wish. +Wouldst have me weep? Why, now thou hast thy will; +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies, +And every drop cries vengeance for his death +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman! + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [aside] +Beshrew me, but his passions moves me so +That hardly can I check my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touched, would not have stained +with blood; +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears. +This cloth thou dipped'st in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +[He hands her the cloth.] +Keep thou the napkin and go boast of this; +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears. +Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears +And say "Alas, it was a piteous deed." +[He hands her the paper crown.] +There, take the crown and, with the crown, my +curse, +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand.-- +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world, +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughterman to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD, [stabbing York twice] +Here's for my oath; here's for my father's death! + +QUEEN MARGARET, [stabbing York] +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +YORK +Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God. +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. +[He dies.] + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates, +So York may overlook the town of York. +[Flourish. They exit, Soldiers carrying York's body.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[A march. Enter Edward, Richard, and their power, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father scaped, +Or whether he be scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit. +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? Why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about +And watched him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat, +Or as a bear encompassed round with dogs, +Who having pinched a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof and bark at him; +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father. +Methinks 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun. +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimmed like a younker, prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun, +Not separated with the racking clouds +But severed in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see, they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vowed some league inviolable. +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun; +In this, the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And overshine the earth, as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +[Enter a Messenger, blowing.] + +But what art thou whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +MESSENGER +Ah, one that was a woeful looker-on +Whenas the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord. + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much! + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +MESSENGER +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have entered Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hews down and fells the hardest-timbered oak. +By many hands your father was subdued, +But only slaughtered by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the Queen, +Who crowned the gracious duke in high despite, +Laughed in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain. +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head and on the gates of York +They set the same, and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I viewed. [He exits.] + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boist'rous Clifford, thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquished him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquished thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison; +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest, +For never henceforth shall I joy again. +Never, O never, shall I see more joy! [He weeps.] + +RICHARD +I cannot weep, for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart; +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burden, +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast +And burns me up with flames that tears would +quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears, then, for babes; blows and revenge for me. +Richard, I bear thy name. I'll venge thy death +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun; +For "chair" and "dukedom," "throne" and +"kingdom" say; +Either that is thine or else thou wert not his. + +[March. Enter Warwick, Marquess Montague, and their +army, all wearing the white rose.] + + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords? What fare, what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick, that Plantagenet +Which held thee dearly as his soul's redemption +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drowned these news in tears. +And now to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London, keeper of the King, +Mustered my soldiers, gathered flocks of friends, +Marched toward Saint Albans to intercept the +Queen, +Bearing the King in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in Parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Albans met, +Our battles joined, and both sides fiercely fought. +But whether 'twas the coldness of the King, +Who looked full gently on his warlike queen, +That robbed my soldiers of their heated spleen, +Or whether 'twas report of her success +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigor, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge; but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night owl's lazy flight +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheered them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards, +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we, in them, no hope to win the day, +So that we fled: the King unto the Queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk, and myself +In haste, posthaste, are come to join with you; +For in the Marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the Duke is with the soldiers, +And, for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled. +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear? +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head +And wring the awful scepter from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not. +'Tis love I bear thy glories make me speak. +But in this troublous time, what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numb'ring our Ave Marys with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say "Ay," and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out, +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords: the proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the Parliament. +And now to London all the crew are gone +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong. +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, via, to London will we march, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry "Charge!" upon our foes, +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak. +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day +That cries "Retire!" if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean, +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend. + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York; +The next degree is England's royal throne: +For King of England shalt thou be proclaimed +In every borough as we pass along, +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums! God and Saint George for us! + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +WARWICK How now, what news? + +MESSENGER +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The Queen is coming with a puissant host, +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why, then it sorts. Brave warriors, let's away! +[They all exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, +Clifford, Northumberland, and young Prince Edward, +all wearing the red rose with Drum and Trumpets, +the head of York fixed above them.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET, [to King Henry] +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompassed with your crown. +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wrack! +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'Tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York did level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows. +He, but a duke, would have his son a king +And raise his issue like a loving sire; +Thou being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climbed unto their nest, +Offering their own lives in their young's defense? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent. +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child +"What my great-grandfather and grandsire got, +My careless father fondly gave away"? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy, +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY +Full well hath Clifford played the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind, +And would my father had left me no more; +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousandfold more care to keep +Than in possession any jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York, would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here. + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits; our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son. +Unsheathe your sword and dub him presently.-- +Edward, kneel down. [He kneels.] + +KING HENRY, [dubbing him knight] +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight, +And learn this lesson: draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE EDWARD, [rising] +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Royal commanders, be in readiness, +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick backing of the Duke of York, +And in the towns as they do march along +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him. +Deraign your battle, for they are at hand. [He exits.] + +CLIFFORD +I would your Highness would depart the field. +The Queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution, then, to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defense. +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry "Saint +George!" + +[March. Enter Edward, Warwick, Richard, +George, Norfolk, Montague, and Soldiers, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry, wilt thou kneel for grace +And set thy diadem upon my head, +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go rate thy minions, proud insulting boy. +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee. +I was adopted heir by his consent. +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of Parliament, +To blot out me and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crookback, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he, the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that killed young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight! + +WARWICK +What sayst thou, Henry? Wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick, dare you +speak? +When you and I met at Saint Albans last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valor, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.-- +Break off the parley, for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoll'n heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father; call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland. +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me +speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them, then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue. +I am a king and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore, be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword. +By Him that made us all, I am resolved +That Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts today +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head, +For York in justice puts his armor on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but everything is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands, +For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam, +But like a foul misshapen stigmatic, +Marked by the Destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples, hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king, +As if a channel should be called the sea, +Sham'st thou not, knowing whence thou art +extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy baseborn heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns +To make this shameless callet know herself.-- +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wronged +By that false woman as this king by thee. +His father reveled in the heart of France, +And tamed the King, and made the Dauphin stoop; +And had he matched according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day. +But when he took a beggar to his bed +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal day, +Even then that sunshine brewed a shower for him +That washed his father's fortunes forth of France +And heaped sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broached this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept, +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipped our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And in this resolution, I defy thee, +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou denied'st the gentle king to speak.-- +Sound, trumpets! Let our bloody colors wave; +And either victory or else a grave! + +QUEEN MARGARET Stay, Edward! + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay. +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. +[They all exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Warwick, +wearing the white rose.] + + +WARWICK, [lying down] +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe, +For strokes received and many blows repaid +Have robbed my strong-knit sinews of their strength; +And spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile. + +[Enter Edward, wearing the white rose, running.] + + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven, or strike, ungentle death, +For this world frowns and Edward's sun is clouded. + +[Enter George, wearing the white rose.] + + +WARWICK, [standing] +How now, my lord, what hap? What hope of good? + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us. +What counsel give you? Whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight; they follow us with wings, +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +[Enter Richard, wearing the white rose.] + + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broached with the steely point of Clifford's lance, +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangor heard from far, +"Warwick, revenge! Brother, revenge my death!" +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stained their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood! +I'll kill my horse because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses whiles the foe doth rage, +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were played in jest by counterfeiting actors? +[He kneels.] +Here on my knee I vow to God above +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or Fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine, +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine +[He kneels.] +And, ere my knee rise from the Earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to Thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching Thee, if with Thy will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that Thy brazen gates of heaven may ope +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul. +[Edward and Warwick stand.] +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in Earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand.--And, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms. +I that did never weep now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our springtime so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords, farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops +And give them leave to fly that will not stay, +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian Games. +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts, +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer; make we hence amain. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Excursions. Enter, at separate doors, Richard wearing +the white rose, and Clifford, wearing the red rose.] + + +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone. +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland, both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environed with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone. +This is the hand that stabbed thy father York, +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland, +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself. +And so, have at thee! + +[They fight; Warwick comes; Clifford flies.] + + +RICHARD +Nay, Warwick, single out some other chase, +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Alarum. Enter King Henry alone, wearing the red rose.] + + +KING HENRY +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind. +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best, +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered. +So is the equal poise of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +[He sits on a small prominence.] +To whom God will, there be the victory; +For Margaret my queen and Clifford too +Have chid me from the battle, swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead, if God's good will were so, +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! Methinks it were a happy life +To be no better than a homely swain, +To sit upon a hill as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run: +How many makes the hour full complete, +How many hours brings about the day, +How many days will finish up the year, +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock, +So many hours must I take my rest, +So many hours must I contemplate, +So many hours must I sport myself, +So many days my ewes have been with young, +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean, +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece; +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Passed over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! How sweet, how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep +Than doth a rich embroidered canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O yes, it doth, a thousandfold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates-- +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed-- +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +[Alarum. Enter at one door a Son that hath killed his +Father, carrying the body.] + + +SON +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns, +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! It is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have killed. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the King was I pressed forth. +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, pressed by his master. +And I, who at his hands received my life, +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did; +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee. +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks, +And no more words till they have flowed their fill. +[He weeps.] + +KING HENRY +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man. I'll aid thee tear for tear, +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears and break, o'ercharged with grief. + +[Enter at another door a Father that hath killed his Son, +bearing of his Son's body.] + + +FATHER +Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold, +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! See, see, what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart +Upon thy wounds, that kills mine eye and heart! +O, pity God this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O, boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY +Woe above woe, grief more than common grief! +O, that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colors of our striving houses; +The one his purple blood right well resembles, +The other his pale cheeks methinks presenteth. +Wither one rose and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +SON +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +FATHER +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY +How will the country for these woeful chances +Misthink the King and not be satisfied! + +SON +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +FATHER +Was ever father so bemoaned his son? + +KING HENRY +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow, mine ten times so much. + +SON +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. +[He exits, bearing the body.] + +FATHER +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulcher, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go. +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be +E'en for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence, and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. +[He exits, bearing the body.] + +KING HENRY +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woeful than you are. + +[Alarums. Excursions. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince +Edward, and Exeter, all wearing the red rose.] + + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly, for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull. +Away, for Death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain. +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath +And bloody steel grasped in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs, and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away, for Vengeance comes along with them. +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after; I'll away before. + +KING HENRY +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter; +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the Queen intends. Forward, away! +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[A loud alarum. Enter Clifford, +wearing the red rose, wounded.] + + +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which whiles it lasted gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And now I fall, thy tough commixtures melts, +Impairing Henry, strength'ning misproud York; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorched the Earth! +And Henry, hadst thou swayed as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death, +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, no strength to hold out flight. +The foe is merciless and will not pity, +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest. +I stabbed your fathers' bosoms; split my breast. +[He faints.] + +[Alarum and retreat. Enter Edward, Warwick, +Richard, and Soldiers, Montague, and George, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords. Good fortune bids us pause +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail filled with a fretting gust +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words, +Your brother Richard marked him for the grave, +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. +[Clifford groans, and dies.] + +RICHARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is; and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford, +Who not contented that he lopped the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murd'ring knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room. +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech owl to our house +That nothing sung but death to us and ours; +Now death shall stop his dismal threat'ning sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft.-- +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to +thee?-- +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did--and so, perhaps, he doth! +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford; swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? Nay, then, the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy but two hours' life +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing +blood +Stifle the villain whose unstaunched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead. Off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king, +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen; +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together, +And having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scattered foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation, +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.-- +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence. Warwick as ourself +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester, +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation. +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honors in possession. +[They exit, with Clifford's body.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter two Gamekeepers, +with crossbows in their hands.] + + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves, +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +That cannot be. The noise of thy crossbow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best. +And for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self place where now we mean to stand. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +[Enter King Henry, in disguise, with a prayer book.] + + +KING HENRY +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine! +Thy place is filled, thy scepter wrung from thee, +Thy balm washed off wherewith thou wast anointed. +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them an not myself? + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER, [aside to Second Gamekeeper] +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee. +This is the quondam king. Let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY +Let me embrace the sour adversaries, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER, [aside to First Gamekeeper] +Why linger we? Let us lay hands upon him. + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER, [aside to Second Gamekeeper] +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY +My queen and son are gone to France for aid, +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward. If this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labor is but lost, +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account, then, Margaret may win him, +For she's a woman to be pitied much. +Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast, +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart. +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn, +And Nero will be tainted with remorse +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She on his left side craving aid for Henry; +He on his right asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles and says his Edward is installed; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more, +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the King from her +With promise of his sister and what else +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be, and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY +Why, so I am in mind, and that's enough. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +But if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen. My crown is called content; +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +Well, if you be a king crowned with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us. For, as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY +But did you never swear and break an oath? + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +No, never such an oath, nor will not now. + +KING HENRY +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +SECOND GAMEKEEPER +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY +I was anointed king at nine months old. +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me. +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +No, for we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY +Why, am I dead? Do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear. +Look as I blow this feather from my face +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust, +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths, for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the King shall be commanded, +And be you kings: command, and I'll obey. + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +We are true subjects to the King, King Edward. + +KING HENRY +So would you be again to Henry +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +FIRST GAMEKEEPER +We charge you in God's name and the King's +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY +In God's name, lead. Your king's name be obeyed, +And what God will, that let your king perform. +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter King Edward, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, +George, Duke of Clarence, Lady Grey, +and Attendants.] + + +KING EDWARD +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Albans field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His land then seized on by the conqueror. +Her suit is now to repossess those lands, +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +RICHARD +Your Highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonor to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD +It were no less, but yet I'll make a pause. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant +Before the King will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE, [formerly GEORGE, aside to Richard] +He knows the game; how true he keeps the wind! + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] Silence! + +KING EDWARD +Widow, we will consider of your suit, +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay. +May it please your Highness to resolve me now, +And what your pleasure is shall satisfy me. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +Ay, widow? Then I'll warrant you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE, [aside to Richard] +I fear her not, unless she chance to fall. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +God forbid that, for he'll take vantages. + +KING EDWARD +How many children hast thou, widow? Tell me. + +CLARENCE, [aside to Richard] +I think he means to beg a child of her. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +Nay, then, whip me; he'll rather give her two. + +LADY GREY Three, my most gracious lord. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +You shall have four if you'll be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD +Lords, give us leave. I'll try this widow's wit. +[Richard and Clarence stand aside.] + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +Ay, good leave have you, for you will have leave +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +KING EDWARD +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD +Then get your husband's lands to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your Majesty. + +KING EDWARD +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your Highness' service. + +KING EDWARD +What service wilt thou do me if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then, I will do what your Grace commands. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +He plies her hard, and much rain wears the marble. + +CLARENCE, [aside to Richard] +As red as fire! Nay, then, her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord? Shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon performed because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. +[She curtsies and begins to exit.] + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +The match is made; she seals it with a cursy. + +KING EDWARD +But stay thee; 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers, +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then, you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your Highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD +Why, then, thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then, mine honesty shall be my dower, +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your Highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit. +Please you dismiss me either with ay or no. + +KING EDWARD +Ay, if thou wilt say "ay" to my request; +No, if thou dost say "no" to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then no, my lord; my suit is at an end. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +The widow likes him not; she knits her brows. + +CLARENCE, [aside to Richard] +He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom. + +KING EDWARD, [aside] +Her looks doth argue her replete with modesty; +Her words doth show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty. +One way or other, she is for a king, +And she shall be my love or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord. +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends, +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto. +I know I am too mean to be your queen +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD +You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your Grace my sons should call you +father. + +KING EDWARD +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow and thou hast some children, +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some. Why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +RICHARD, [aside to Clarence] +The ghostly father now hath done his shrift. + +CLARENCE, [aside to Richard] +When he was made a shriver, 'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +RICHARD +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD +You'd think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To who, my lord? + +KING EDWARD Why, Clarence, to myself. + +RICHARD +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +RICHARD +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD +Well, jest on, brothers. I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +[Enter a Nobleman.] + + +NOBLEMAN +My gracious lord, Henry, your foe, is taken +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD +See that he be conveyed unto the Tower. +[Nobleman exits.] +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension.-- +Widow, go you along.--Lords, use her honorably. +[They exit. +Richard remains.] + +RICHARD +Ay, Edward will use women honorably! +Would he were wasted--marrow, bones, and all-- +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring +To cross me from the golden time I look for. +And yet, between my soul's desire and me, +The lustful Edward's title buried, +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son, young Edward, +And all the unlooked-for issue of their bodies +To take their rooms ere I can place myself. +A cold premeditation for my purpose. +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty +Like one that stands upon a promontory +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way. +So do I wish the crown, being so far off, +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it, +And so, I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard, +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And 'witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought, and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, Love forswore me in my mother's womb, +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail Nature with some bribe +To shrink mine arm up like a withered shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits Deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlicked bear-whelp, +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault to harbor such a thought! +Then, since this Earth affords no joy to me +But to command, to check, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, t' account this world but hell +Until my misshaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home; +And I, like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way, +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out, +Torment myself to catch the English crown. +And from that torment I will free myself +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry "Content" to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colors to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Lewis the French king, his sister +the Lady Bona, his Admiral called Bourbon, +Prince Edward, Queen Margaret, and the Earl of Oxford, +the last three wearing the red rose.] + +[Lewis sits, and riseth up again.] + + + +KING LEWIS +Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret, +Sit down with us. It ill befits thy state +And birth that thou shouldst stand while Lewis +doth sit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +No, mighty King of France. Now Margaret +Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve +Where kings command. I was, I must confess, +Great Albion's queen in former golden days, +But now mischance hath trod my title down +And with dishonor laid me on the ground, +Where I must take like seat unto my fortune +And to my humble seat conform myself. + +KING LEWIS +Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep +despair? + +QUEEN MARGARET +From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears +And stops my tongue, while heart is drowned in cares. + +KING LEWIS +Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, +And sit thee by our side. [Seats her by him.] +Yield not thy neck +To Fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind +Still ride in triumph over all mischance. +Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief. +It shall be eased if France can yield relief. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts +And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. +Now therefore be it known to noble Lewis +That Henry, sole possessor of my love, +Is, of a king, become a banished man +And forced to live in Scotland a forlorn; +While proud ambitious Edward, Duke of York, +Usurps the regal title and the seat +Of England's true-anointed lawful king. +This is the cause that I, poor Margaret, +With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir, +Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid; +And if thou fail us, all our hope is done. +Scotland hath will to help but cannot help; +Our people and our peers are both misled, +Our treasure seized, our soldiers put to flight, +And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight. + +KING LEWIS +Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm +While we bethink a means to break it off. + +QUEEN MARGARET +The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe. + +KING LEWIS +The more I stay, the more I'll succor thee. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow. + +[Enter Warwick, wearing the white rose.] + +And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow. + +KING LEWIS +What's he approacheth boldly to our presence? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend. + +KING LEWIS, [standing] +Welcome, brave Warwick. What brings thee to France? +[He descends. She ariseth.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Ay, now begins a second storm to rise, +For this is he that moves both wind and tide. + +WARWICK +From worthy Edward, King of Albion, +My lord and sovereign and thy vowed friend, +I come in kindness and unfeigned love, +First, to do greetings to thy royal person, +And then to crave a league of amity, +And, lastly, to confirm that amity +With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant +That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister, +To England's king in lawful marriage. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +If that go forward, Henry's hope is done. + +WARWICK, [speaking to Lady Bona] +And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf, +I am commanded, with your leave and favor, +Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue +To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart, +Where fame, late ent'ring at his heedful ears, +Hath placed thy beauty's image and thy virtue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak +Before you answer Warwick. His demand +Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, +But from deceit, bred by necessity; +For how can tyrants safely govern home +Unless abroad they purchase great alliance? +To prove him tyrant, this reason may suffice: +That Henry liveth still; but were he dead, +Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son. +Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and +marriage +Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonor; +For though usurpers sway the rule awhile, +Yet heav'ns are just, and time suppresseth wrongs. + +WARWICK +Injurious Margaret! + +PRINCE EDWARD And why not "Queen"? + +WARWICK +Because thy father Henry did usurp, +And thou no more art prince than she is queen. + +OXFORD +Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt, +Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain; +And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth, +Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest; +And after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth, +Who by his prowess conquered all France. +From these our Henry lineally descends. + +WARWICK +Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse +You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost +All that which Henry the Fifth had gotten. +Methinks these peers of France should smile at that. +But, for the rest: you tell a pedigree +Of threescore and two years, a silly time +To make prescription for a kingdom's worth. + +OXFORD +Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege, +Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years, +And not bewray thy treason with a blush? + +WARWICK +Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right, +Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree? +For shame, leave Henry, and call Edward king. + +OXFORD +Call him my king, by whose injurious doom +My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere, +Was done to death? And more than so, my father, +Even in the downfall of his mellowed years, +When nature brought him to the door of death? +No, Warwick, no. While life upholds this arm, +This arm upholds the house of Lancaster. + +WARWICK And I the house of York. + +KING LEWIS +Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford, +Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside +While I use further conference with Warwick. +[They stand aloof.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him +not. + +KING LEWIS +Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience, +Is Edward your true king? For I were loath +To link with him that were not lawful chosen. + +WARWICK +Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honor. + +KING LEWIS +But is he gracious in the people's eye? + +WARWICK +The more that Henry was unfortunate. + +KING LEWIS +Then further, all dissembling set aside, +Tell me for truth the measure of his love +Unto our sister Bona. + +WARWICK Such it seems +As may beseem a monarch like himself. +Myself have often heard him say and swear +That this his love was an eternal plant, +Whereof the root was fixed in virtue's ground, +The leaves and fruit maintained with beauty's sun, +Exempt from envy but not from disdain, +Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain. + +KING LEWIS +Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. + +LADY BONA +Your grant or your denial shall be mine. +[(Speaks to Warwick.)] Yet I confess that often ere this +day, +When I have heard your king's desert recounted, +Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire. + +KING LEWIS +Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's. +And now forthwith shall articles be drawn +Touching the jointure that your king must make, +Which with her dowry shall be counterpoised.-- +Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness +That Bona shall be wife to the English king. + +PRINCE EDWARD +To Edward, but not to the English king. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Deceitful Warwick, it was thy device +By this alliance to make void my suit. +Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend. + +KING LEWIS +And still is friend to him and Margaret. +But if your title to the crown be weak, +As may appear by Edward's good success, +Then 'tis but reason that I be released +From giving aid which late I promised. +Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand +That your estate requires and mine can yield. + +WARWICK +Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease, +Where, having nothing, nothing can he lose.-- +And as for you yourself, our quondam queen, +You have a father able to maintain you, +And better 'twere you troubled him than France. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, +Proud setter-up and puller-down of kings! +I will not hence till with my talk and tears, +Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold +Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love, +For both of you are birds of selfsame feather. +[Post blowing a horn within.] + +KING LEWIS +Warwick, this is some post to us or thee. + +[Enter the Post.] + + +POST [speaks to Warwick.] +My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, +Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague. +[(To Lewis.)] These from our king unto your Majesty. +[(To Margaret.)] And, madam, these for you--from +whom, I know not. [They all read their letters.] + +OXFORD, [aside] +I like it well that our fair queen and mistress +Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his. + +PRINCE EDWARD, [aside] +Nay, mark how Lewis stamps as he were nettled. +I hope all's for the best. + +KING LEWIS +Warwick, what are thy news? And yours, fair queen? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. + +WARWICK +Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent. + +KING LEWIS +What, has your king married the Lady Grey, +And now, to soothe your forgery and his, +Sends me a paper to persuade me patience? +Is this th' alliance that he seeks with France? +Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I told your Majesty as much before. +This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty. + +WARWICK +King Lewis, I here protest in sight of heaven +And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss, +That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's-- +No more my king, for he dishonors me, +But most himself, if he could see his shame. +Did I forget that by the house of York +My father came untimely to his death? +Did I let pass th' abuse done to my niece? +Did I impale him with the regal crown? +Did I put Henry from his native right? +And am I guerdoned at the last with shame? +Shame on himself, for my desert is honor! +And to repair my honor lost for him, +I here renounce him and return to Henry. +[He removes the white rose.] +My noble queen, let former grudges pass, +And henceforth I am thy true servitor. +I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona +And replant Henry in his former state. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Warwick, these words have turned my hate to love, +And I forgive and quite forget old faults, +And joy that thou becom'st King Henry's friend. + +WARWICK +So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend, +That if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us +With some few bands of chosen soldiers, +I'll undertake to land them on our coast +And force the tyrant from his seat by war. +'Tis not his new-made bride shall succor him. +And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me, +He's very likely now to fall from him +For matching more for wanton lust than honor, +Or than for strength and safety of our country. + +LADY BONA +Dear brother, how shall Bona be revenged +But by thy help to this distressed queen? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Renowned prince, how shall poor Henry live +Unless thou rescue him from foul despair? + +LADY BONA +My quarrel and this English queen's are one. + +WARWICK +And mine, fair Lady Bona, joins with yours. + +KING LEWIS +And mine with hers and thine and Margaret's. +Therefore at last I firmly am resolved +You shall have aid. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Let me give humble thanks for all, at once. + +KING LEWIS +Then, England's messenger, return in post, +And tell false Edward, thy supposed king, +That Lewis of France is sending over maskers +To revel it with him and his new bride. +Thou seest what's passed; go fear thy king withal. + +LADY BONA +Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly, +I wear the willow garland for his sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell him my mourning weeds are laid aside +And I am ready to put armor on. + +WARWICK +Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong, +And therefore I'll uncrown him ere 't be long. +There's thy reward. [Gives money.] +Be gone. [Post exits.] + +KING LEWIS But, Warwick, +Thou and Oxford with five thousand men +Shall cross the seas and bid false Edward battle; +And as occasion serves, this noble queen +And prince shall follow with a fresh supply. +Yet ere thou go, but answer me one doubt: +What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty? + +WARWICK +This shall assure my constant loyalty: +That if our queen and this young prince agree, +I'll join mine eldest daughter, and my joy, +To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion. +Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous. +Therefore, delay not; give thy hand to Warwick, +And with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable, +That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it, +And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand. +[He gives his hand to Warwick.] + +KING LEWIS +Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied, +And thou, Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral, +Shall waft them over with our royal fleet. +I long till Edward fall by war's mischance +For mocking marriage with a dame of France. + +[All but Warwick exit.] + +WARWICK +I came from Edward as ambassador, +But I return his sworn and mortal foe. +Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me, +But dreadful war shall answer his demand. +Had he none else to make a stale but me? +Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow. +I was the chief that raised him to the crown, +And I'll be chief to bring him down again: +Not that I pity Henry's misery, +But seek revenge on Edward's mockery. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Richard of Gloucester, Clarence, Somerset, +and Montague, all wearing the white rose.] + + +RICHARD +Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you +Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey? +Hath not our brother made a worthy choice? + +CLARENCE +Alas, you know 'tis far from hence to France. +How could he stay till Warwick made return? +[Flourish.] + +SOMERSET +My lords, forbear this talk. Here comes the King. + +RICHARD And his well-chosen bride. + +CLARENCE +I mind to tell him plainly what I think. + +[Enter King Edward, with Attendants, +Lady Grey, now Queen Elizabeth, Pembroke, Stafford, +Hastings, and others, all wearing the white rose. +Four stand on one side, and four on the other.] + + +KING EDWARD +Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice, +That you stand pensive, as half malcontent? + +CLARENCE +As well as Lewis of France or the Earl of Warwick, +Which are so weak of courage and in judgment +That they'll take no offense at our abuse. + +KING EDWARD +Suppose they take offense without a cause, +They are but Lewis and Warwick; I am Edward, +Your king and Warwick's, and must have my will. + +RICHARD +And shall have your will because our king. +Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well. + +KING EDWARD +Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too? + +RICHARD Not I. +No, God forbid that I should wish them severed +Whom God hath joined together. Ay, and 'twere pity +To sunder them that yoke so well together. + +KING EDWARD +Setting your scorns and your mislike aside, +Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey +Should not become my wife and England's queen? +And you too, Somerset and Montague, +Speak freely what you think. + +CLARENCE +Then this is mine opinion: that King Lewis +Becomes your enemy for mocking him +About the marriage of the Lady Bona. + +RICHARD +And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge, +Is now dishonored by this new marriage. + +KING EDWARD +What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeased +By such invention as I can devise? + +MONTAGUE +Yet to have joined with France in such alliance +Would more have strengthened this our +commonwealth +'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage. + +HASTINGS +Why, knows not Montague that of itself +England is safe, if true within itself? + +MONTAGUE +But the safer when 'tis backed with France. + +HASTINGS +'Tis better using France than trusting France. +Let us be backed with God and with the seas +Which He hath giv'n for fence impregnable, +And with their helps only defend ourselves. +In them and in ourselves our safety lies. + +CLARENCE +For this one speech, Lord Hastings well deserves +To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford. + +KING EDWARD +Ay, what of that? It was my will and grant, +And for this once my will shall stand for law. + +RICHARD +And yet methinks your Grace hath not done well +To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales +Unto the brother of your loving bride. +She better would have fitted me or Clarence; +But in your bride you bury brotherhood. + +CLARENCE +Or else you would not have bestowed the heir +Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son, +And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere. + +KING EDWARD +Alas, poor Clarence, is it for a wife +That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee. + +CLARENCE +In choosing for yourself you showed your judgment, +Which, being shallow, you shall give me leave +To play the broker in mine own behalf. +And to that end, I shortly mind to leave you. + +KING EDWARD +Leave me or tarry, Edward will be king +And not be tied unto his brother's will. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My lords, before it pleased his Majesty +To raise my state to title of a queen, +Do me but right and you must all confess +That I was not ignoble of descent, +And meaner than myself have had like fortune. +But as this title honors me and mine, +So your dislikes, to whom I would be pleasing, +Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow. + +KING EDWARD +My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns. +What danger or what sorrow can befall thee +So long as Edward is thy constant friend +And their true sovereign, whom they must obey? +Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too, +Unless they seek for hatred at my hands; +Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe, +And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath. + +RICHARD, [aside] +I hear, yet say not much, but think the more. + +[Enter a Post.] + + +KING EDWARD +Now, messenger, what letters or what news from +France? + +POST +My sovereign liege, no letters and few words +But such as I without your special pardon +Dare not relate. + +KING EDWARD +Go to, we pardon thee. Therefore, in brief, +Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them. +What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters? + +POST +At my depart, these were his very words: +"Go tell false Edward, the supposed king, +That Lewis of France is sending over maskers +To revel it with him and his new bride." + +KING EDWARD +Is Lewis so brave? Belike he thinks me Henry. +But what said Lady Bona to my marriage? + +POST +These were her words, uttered with mild disdain: +"Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly, +I'll wear the willow garland for his sake." + +KING EDWARD +I blame not her; she could say little less; +She had the wrong. But what said Henry's queen? +For I have heard that she was there in place. + +POST +"Tell him," quoth she, "my mourning weeds are +done, +And I am ready to put armor on." + +KING EDWARD +Belike she minds to play the Amazon. +But what said Warwick to these injuries? + +POST +He, more incensed against your Majesty +Than all the rest, discharged me with these words: +"Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong, +And therefore I'll uncrown him ere 't be long." + +KING EDWARD +Ha! Durst the traitor breathe out so proud words? +Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarned. +They shall have wars and pay for their presumption. +But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret? + +POST +Ay, gracious sovereign, they are so linked in +friendship +That young Prince Edward marries Warwick's +daughter. + +CLARENCE, [aside] +Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.-- +Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast, +For I will hence to Warwick's other daughter, +That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage +I may not prove inferior to yourself. +You that love me and Warwick, follow me. +[Clarence exits, and Somerset follows.] + +RICHARD, [aside] +Not I. My thoughts aim at a further matter: +I stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown. + +KING EDWARD +Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick? +Yet am I armed against the worst can happen, +And haste is needful in this desp'rate case. +Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf +Go levy men and make prepare for war. +They are already, or quickly will be, landed. +Myself in person will straight follow you. +[Pembroke and Stafford exit.] +But ere I go, Hastings and Montague, +Resolve my doubt: you twain, of all the rest, +Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance. +Tell me if you love Warwick more than me. +If it be so, then both depart to him. +I rather wish you foes than hollow friends. +But if you mind to hold your true obedience, +Give me assurance with some friendly vow, +That I may never have you in suspect. + +MONTAGUE +So God help Montague as he proves true! + +HASTINGS +And Hastings as he favors Edward's cause! + +KING EDWARD +Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us? + +RICHARD +Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you. + +KING EDWARD +Why, so. Then am I sure of victory. +Now therefore let us hence and lose no hour +Till we meet Warwick with his foreign power. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Warwick and Oxford in England, +wearing the red rose, with French Soldiers.] + + +WARWICK +Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well. +The common people by numbers swarm to us. + +[Enter Clarence and Somerset.] + +But see where Somerset and Clarence comes.-- +Speak suddenly, my lords: are we all friends? + +CLARENCE Fear not that, my lord. + +WARWICK +Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick, +And welcome, Somerset. I hold it cowardice +To rest mistrustful where a noble heart +Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love; +Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother, +Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings. +But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be +thine. +And now, what rests but, in night's coverture +Thy brother being carelessly encamped, +His soldiers lurking in the town about, +And but attended by a simple guard, +We may surprise and take him at our pleasure? +Our scouts have found the adventure very easy; +That, as Ulysses and stout Diomed +With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents +And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds, +So we, well covered with the night's black mantle, +At unawares may beat down Edward's guard +And seize himself. I say not "slaughter him," +For I intend but only to surprise him. +You that will follow me to this attempt, +Applaud the name of Henry with your leader. +[They all cry "Henry!"] +Why then, let's on our way in silent sort. +For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter three Watchmen to guard King Edward's tent, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +FIRST WATCH +Come on, my masters, each man take his stand. +The King by this is set him down to sleep. + +SECOND WATCH What, will he not to bed? + +FIRST WATCH +Why, no, for he hath made a solemn vow +Never to lie and take his natural rest +Till Warwick or himself be quite suppressed. + +SECOND WATCH +Tomorrow, then, belike shall be the day, +If Warwick be so near as men report. + +THIRD WATCH +But say, I pray, what nobleman is that +That with the King here resteth in his tent? + +FIRST WATCH +'Tis the Lord Hastings, the King's chiefest friend. + +THIRD WATCH +O, is it so? But why commands the King +That his chief followers lodge in towns about him, +While he himself keeps in the cold field? + +SECOND WATCH +'Tis the more honor, because more dangerous. + +THIRD WATCH +Ay, but give me worship and quietness; +I like it better than a dangerous honor. +If Warwick knew in what estate he stands, +'Tis to be doubted he would waken him. + +FIRST WATCH +Unless our halberds did shut up his passage. + +SECOND WATCH +Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent +But to defend his person from night foes? + +[Enter Warwick, Clarence, Oxford, Somerset, all wearing +the red rose, and French Soldiers, silent all.] + + +WARWICK +This is his tent, and see where stand his guard. +Courage, my masters. Honor, now or never! +But follow me, and Edward shall be ours. + +FIRST WATCH Who goes there? + +SECOND WATCH Stay, or thou diest! +[Warwick and the rest cry all "Warwick, Warwick!" +and set upon the guard, who fly, crying "Arm, Arm!" +Warwick and the rest following them.] + +[The drum playing and trumpet sounding, +enter Warwick, Somerset, and the rest, bringing +King Edward out in his gown, sitting in a chair. +Richard and Hastings flies over the stage.] + + +SOMERSET +What are they that fly there? + +WARWICK Richard and Hastings. +Let them go. Here is the Duke. + +KING EDWARD The Duke? +Why, Warwick, when we parted, thou call'dst me king. + +WARWICK Ay, but the case is altered. +When you disgraced me in my embassade, +Then I degraded you from being king +And come now to create you Duke of York. +Alas, how should you govern any kingdom +That know not how to use ambassadors, +Nor how to be contented with one wife, +Nor how to use your brothers brotherly, +Nor how to study for the people's welfare, +Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies? + +KING EDWARD +Yea, brother of Clarence, art thou here too? +Nay, then, I see that Edward needs must down. +Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance, +Of thee thyself and all thy complices, +Edward will always bear himself as king. +Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state, +My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. + +WARWICK +Then for his mind be Edward England's king, +[Takes off his crown.] +But Henry now shall wear the English crown +And be true king indeed, thou but the shadow.-- +My lord of Somerset, at my request, +See that forthwith Duke Edward be conveyed +Unto my brother, Archbishop of York. +When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows, +I'll follow you and tell what answer +Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.-- +Now for awhile farewell, good Duke of York. + +[They begin to lead him out forcibly.] + +KING EDWARD +What Fates impose, that men must needs abide; +It boots not to resist both wind and tide. +[Somerset and Soldiers exit, guarding King Edward.] + +OXFORD +What now remains, my lords, for us to do +But march to London with our soldiers? + +WARWICK +Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do, +To free King Henry from imprisonment +And see him seated in the regal throne. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Rivers and Queen Elizabeth, +wearing the white rose.] + + +RIVERS +Madam, what makes you in this sudden change? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Why, brother Rivers, are you yet to learn +What late misfortune is befall'n King Edward? + +RIVERS +What, loss of some pitched battle against Warwick? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +No, but the loss of his own royal person. + +RIVERS Then is my sovereign slain? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner, +Either betrayed by falsehood of his guard +Or by his foe surprised at unawares; +And, as I further have to understand, +Is new committed to the Bishop of York, +Fell Warwick's brother and by that our foe. + +RIVERS +These news I must confess are full of grief; +Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may. +Warwick may lose that now hath won the day. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Till then fair hope must hinder life's decay; +And I the rather wean me from despair +For love of Edward's offspring in my womb. +This is it that makes me bridle passion +And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross. +Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear +And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs, +Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown +King Edward's fruit, true heir to th' English crown. + +RIVERS +But, madam, where is Warwick then become? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I am informed that he comes towards London +To set the crown once more on Henry's head. +Guess thou the rest: King Edward's friends must +down. +But to prevent the tyrant's violence-- +For trust not him that hath once broken faith-- +I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary +To save at least the heir of Edward's right. +There shall I rest secure from force and fraud. +Come, therefore, let us fly while we may fly. +If Warwick take us, we are sure to die. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Richard of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, +and Sir William Stanley, with Soldiers, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +RICHARD +Now, my Lord Hastings and Sir William Stanley, +Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither +Into this chiefest thicket of the park. +Thus stands the case: you know our king, my brother, +Is prisoner to the Bishop here, at whose hands +He hath good usage and great liberty, +And, often but attended with weak guard, +Comes hunting this way to disport himself. +I have advertised him by secret means +That, if about this hour he make this way +Under the color of his usual game, +He shall here find his friends with horse and men +To set him free from his captivity. + +[Enter King Edward, wearing the white rose, +and a Huntsman with him.] + + +HUNTSMAN +This way, my lord, for this way lies the game. + +KING EDWARD +Nay, this way, man. See where the huntsmen stand.-- +Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the +rest, +Stand you thus close to steal the Bishop's deer? + +RICHARD +Brother, the time and case requireth haste. +Your horse stands ready at the park corner. + +KING EDWARD But whither shall we then? + +HASTINGS +To Lynn, my lord, and shipped from thence +to Flanders. + +RICHARD +Well guessed, believe me, for that was my meaning. + +KING EDWARD +Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness. + +RICHARD +But wherefore stay we? 'Tis no time to talk. + +KING EDWARD +Huntsman, what sayst thou? Wilt thou go along? + +HUNTSMAN +Better do so than tarry and be hanged. + +RICHARD +Come then, away! Let's ha' no more ado. + +KING EDWARD +Bishop, farewell; shield thee from Warwick's frown, +And pray that I may repossess the crown. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Henry the Sixth, Clarence, +Warwick, Somerset, young Henry Earl of Richmond, +Oxford, Montague, all wearing the red rose, +and Lieutenant of the Tower.] + + +KING HENRY +Master lieutenant, now that God and friends +Have shaken Edward from the regal seat +And turned my captive state to liberty, +My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys, +At our enlargement what are thy due fees? + +LIEUTENANT +Subjects may challenge nothing of their sov'reigns, +But, if an humble prayer may prevail, +I then crave pardon of your Majesty. + +KING HENRY +For what, lieutenant? For well using me? +Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness, +For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure, +Ay, such a pleasure as encaged birds +Conceive when, after many moody thoughts, +At last by notes of household harmony +They quite forget their loss of liberty.-- +But, Warwick, after God thou sett'st me free, +And chiefly, therefore, I thank God and thee. +He was the author, thou the instrument. +Therefore, that I may conquer Fortune's spite +By living low where Fortune cannot hurt me, +And that the people of this blessed land +May not be punished with my thwarting stars, +Warwick, although my head still wear the crown, +I here resign my government to thee, +For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds. + +WARWICK +Your Grace hath still been famed for virtuous +And now may seem as wise as virtuous +By spying and avoiding Fortune's malice, +For few men rightly temper with the stars. +Yet, in this one thing let me blame your Grace: +For choosing me when Clarence is in place. + +CLARENCE +No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway, +To whom the heav'ns in thy nativity +Adjudged an olive branch and laurel crown +As likely to be blest in peace and war; +And therefore I yield thee my free consent. + +WARWICK +And I choose Clarence only for Protector. + +KING HENRY +Warwick and Clarence, give me both your hands. +Now join your hands, and with your hands your +hearts, +That no dissension hinder government. + +[He joins their hands.] +I make you both Protectors of this land, +While I myself will lead a private life +And in devotion spend my latter days, +To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise. + +WARWICK +What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will? + +CLARENCE +That he consents, if Warwick yield consent, +For on thy fortune I repose myself. + +WARWICK +Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content. +We'll yoke together like a double shadow +To Henry's body, and supply his place-- +I mean, in bearing weight of government-- +While he enjoys the honor and his ease. +And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful +Forthwith that Edward be pronounced a traitor +And all his lands and goods be confiscate. + +CLARENCE +What else? And that succession be determined. + +WARWICK +Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part. + +KING HENRY +But with the first of all your chief affairs +Let me entreat--for I command no more-- +That Margaret your queen and my son Edward +Be sent for, to return from France with speed, +For till I see them here, by doubtful fear +My joy of liberty is half eclipsed. + +CLARENCE +It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed. + +KING HENRY +My lord of Somerset, what youth is that +Of whom you seem to have so tender care? + +SOMERSET +My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Richmond. + +KING HENRY, [to Richmond] +Come hither, England's hope. +[Lays his hand on Richmond's head.] +If secret powers +Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts, +This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss. +His looks are full of peaceful majesty, +His head by nature framed to wear a crown, +His hand to wield a scepter, and himself +Likely in time to bless a regal throne. +Make much of him, my lords, for this is he +Must help you more than you are hurt by me. + +[Enter a Post.] + + +WARWICK What news, my friend? + +POST +That Edward is escaped from your brother +And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy. + +WARWICK +Unsavory news! But how made he escape? + +POST +He was conveyed by Richard, Duke of Gloucester, +And the Lord Hastings, who attended him +In secret ambush on the forest side +And from the Bishop's huntsmen rescued him, +For hunting was his daily exercise. + +WARWICK +My brother was too careless of his charge. +But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide +A salve for any sore that may betide. +[All but Somerset, Richmond, and Oxford exit.] + +SOMERSET, [to Oxford] +My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's, +For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help, +And we shall have more wars before 't be long. +As Henry's late presaging prophecy +Did glad my heart with hope of this young +Richmond, +So doth my heart misgive me in these conflicts +What may befall him, to his harm and ours. +Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worst, +Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany +Till storms be past of civil enmity. + +OXFORD +Ay, for if Edward repossess the crown, +'Tis like that Richmond, with the rest, shall down. + +SOMERSET +It shall be so. He shall to Brittany. +Come, therefore, let's about it speedily. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, Hastings, +and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.] + + +KING EDWARD +Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest: +Yet thus far Fortune maketh us amends, +And says that once more I shall interchange +My waned state for Henry's regal crown. +Well have we passed, and now re-passed, the seas, +And brought desired help from Burgundy. +What then remains, we being thus arrived +From Ravenspurgh Haven before the gates of York, +But that we enter as into our dukedom? +[Hastings knocks at the gate.] + +RICHARD +The gates made fast? Brother, I like not this. +For many men that stumble at the threshold +Are well foretold that danger lurks within. + +KING EDWARD +Tush, man, abodements must not now affright us. +By fair or foul means we must enter in, +For hither will our friends repair to us. + +HASTINGS +My liege, I'll knock once more to summon them. +[He knocks.] + +[Enter on the walls the Mayor of York and his brethren, +the Aldermen.] + + +MAYOR +My lords, we were forewarned of your coming, +And shut the gates for safety of ourselves, +For now we owe allegiance unto Henry. + +KING EDWARD +But, master mayor, if Henry be your king, +Yet Edward, at the least, is Duke of York. + +MAYOR +True, my good lord, I know you for no less. + +KING EDWARD +Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom, +As being well content with that alone. + +RICHARD, [aside] +But when the fox hath once got in his nose, +He'll soon find means to make the body follow. + +HASTINGS +Why, master mayor, why stand you in a doubt? +Open the gates. We are King Henry's friends. + +MAYOR +Ay, say you so? The gates shall then be opened. +[He descends with the Aldermen.] + +RICHARD +A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded. + +HASTINGS +The good old man would fain that all were well, +So 'twere not long of him; but being entered, +I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade +Both him and all his brothers unto reason. + +[Enter the Mayor and two Aldermen.] + + +KING EDWARD +So, master mayor, these gates must not be shut +But in the night or in the time of war. +What, fear not, man, but yield me up the keys. +[Takes his keys.] +For Edward will defend the town and thee +And all those friends that deign to follow me. + +[March. Enter Montgomery, with Drum and Soldiers.] + + +RICHARD +Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery, +Our trusty friend, unless I be deceived. + +KING EDWARD +Welcome, Sir John. But why come you in arms? + +MONTGOMERY +To help King Edward in his time of storm, +As every loyal subject ought to do. + +KING EDWARD +Thanks, good Montgomery. But we now forget +Our title to the crown, and only claim +Our dukedom, till God please to send the rest. + +MONTGOMERY +Then fare you well, for I will hence again. +I came to serve a king and not a duke.-- +Drummer, strike up, and let us march away. +[The Drum begins to march.] + +KING EDWARD +Nay, stay, Sir John, a while, and we'll debate +By what safe means the crown may be recovered. + +MONTGOMERY +What talk you of debating? In few words, +If you'll not here proclaim yourself our king, +I'll leave you to your fortune and be gone +To keep them back that come to succor you. +Why shall we fight if you pretend no title? + +RICHARD +Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points? + +KING EDWARD +When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim. +Till then 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning. + +HASTINGS +Away with scrupulous wit! Now arms must rule. + +RICHARD +And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns. +Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand; +The bruit thereof will bring you many friends. + +KING EDWARD +Then be it as you will, for 'tis my right, +And Henry but usurps the diadem. + +MONTGOMERY +Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself, +And now will I be Edward's champion. + +HASTINGS +Sound, trumpet! Edward shall be here proclaimed.-- +Come, fellow soldier, make thou proclamation. +[Flourish. Sound.] + +SOLDIER [reads] Edward the Fourth, by the Grace of +God, King of England and France, and Lord of +Ireland, &c. + +MONTGOMERY +And whosoe'er gainsays King Edward's right, +By this I challenge him to single fight. +[Throws down his gauntlet.] + +ALL Long live Edward the Fourth! + +KING EDWARD +Thanks, brave Montgomery, and thanks unto you all. +If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness. +Now, for this night let's harbor here in York, +And when the morning sun shall raise his car +Above the border of this horizon, +We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates; +For well I wot that Henry is no soldier. +Ah, froward Clarence, how evil it beseems thee +To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother! +Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick. +Come on, brave soldiers; doubt not of the day; +And that once gotten, doubt not of large pay. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Henry, Warwick, Montague, +Clarence, Oxford, and Exeter, all wearing the red rose.] + + +WARWICK +What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia, +With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders, +Hath passed in safety through the Narrow Seas, +And with his troops doth march amain to London, +And many giddy people flock to him. + +KING HENRY +Let's levy men and beat him back again. + +CLARENCE +A little fire is quickly trodden out, +Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench. + +WARWICK +In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, +Not mutinous in peace yet bold in war. +Those will I muster up; and thou, son Clarence, +Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent +The knights and gentlemen to come with thee.-- +Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, +Northampton, and in Leicestershire shalt find +Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st.-- +And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved, +In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.-- +My sovereign, with the loving citizens, +Like to his island girt in with the ocean, +Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs, +Shall rest in London till we come to him. +Fair lords, take leave, and stand not to reply.-- +Farewell, my sovereign. + +KING HENRY +Farewell, my Hector and my Troy's true hope. + +CLARENCE +In sign of truth, I kiss your Highness' hand. + +KING HENRY +Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate. + +MONTAGUE +Comfort, my lord; and so I take my leave. + +OXFORD +And thus I seal my truth, and bid adieu. +[He kisses Henry's hand.] + +KING HENRY +Sweet Oxford and my loving Montague +And all at once, once more a happy farewell. + +WARWICK +Farewell, sweet lords. Let's meet at Coventry. +[All but King Henry and Exeter exit.] + +KING HENRY +Here at the palace will I rest awhile. +Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your Lordship? +Methinks the power that Edward hath in field +Should not be able to encounter mine. + +EXETER +The doubt is that he will seduce the rest. + +KING HENRY +That's not my fear. My meed hath got me fame. +I have not stopped mine ears to their demands, +Nor posted off their suits with slow delays. +My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, +My mildness hath allayed their swelling griefs, +My mercy dried their water-flowing tears. +I have not been desirous of their wealth +Nor much oppressed them with great subsidies, +Nor forward of revenge, though they much erred. +Then why should they love Edward more than me? +No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace; +And when the lion fawns upon the lamb, +The lamb will never cease to follow him. +[Shout within "A York! A York!"] + +EXETER +Hark, hark, my lord, what shouts are these? + +[Enter King Edward and Richard and Soldiers, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +KING EDWARD +Seize on the shamefaced Henry, bear him hence, +And once again proclaim us King of England.-- +You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow. +Now stops thy spring; my sea shall suck them dry +And swell so much the higher by their ebb.-- +Hence with him to the Tower. Let him not speak. +[Soldiers exit with King Henry and Exeter.] +And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course, +Where peremptory Warwick now remains. +The sun shines hot, and if we use delay, +Cold biting winter mars our hoped-for hay. + +RICHARD +Away betimes, before his forces join, +And take the great-grown traitor unawares. +Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Warwick, wearing the red rose, the Mayor of +Coventry, two Messengers, and others, upon the walls.] + + +WARWICK +Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?-- +How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow? + +FIRST MESSENGER +By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward. +[He exits.] + +WARWICK +How far off is our brother Montague? +Where is the post that came from Montague? + +SECOND MESSENGER +By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop. [He exits.] + +[Enter, upon the walls, Somerville +wearing the red rose.] + + +WARWICK +Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? +And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now? + +SOMERVILLE +At Southam I did leave him with his forces +And do expect him here some two hours hence. +[Drum offstage.] + +WARWICK +Then Clarence is at hand; I hear his drum. + +SOMERVILLE +It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies. +The drum your Honor hears marcheth from Warwick. + +WARWICK +Who should that be? Belike unlooked-for friends. + +SOMERVILLE +They are at hand, and you shall quickly know. + +[March. Flourish. Enter below, King Edward, +Richard, and Soldiers, including a Trumpeter, +all wearing the white rose.] + + +KING EDWARD +Go, Trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle. + +RICHARD +See how the surly Warwick mans the wall. + +WARWICK +O unbid spite, is sportful Edward come? +Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced, +That we could hear no news of his repair? + +KING EDWARD +Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates, +Speak gentle words, and humbly bend thy knee? +Call Edward king, and at his hands beg mercy, +And he shall pardon thee these outrages. + +WARWICK +Nay, rather wilt thou draw thy forces hence, +Confess who set thee up and plucked thee down, +Call Warwick patron, and be penitent, +And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York. + +RICHARD +I thought at least he would have said "the King." +Or did he make the jest against his will? + +WARWICK +Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift? + +RICHARD +Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give. +I'll do thee service for so good a gift. + +WARWICK +'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother. + +KING EDWARD +Why, then, 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift. + +WARWICK +Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight; +And, weakling, Warwick takes his gift again, +And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject. + +KING EDWARD +But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner. +And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this: +What is the body when the head is off? + +RICHARD +Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast, +But whiles he thought to steal the single ten, +The King was slyly fingered from the deck. +You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace, +And ten to one you'll meet him in the Tower. + +KING EDWARD +'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still. + +RICHARD +Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel +down. +Nay, when? Strike now, or else the iron cools. + +WARWICK +I had rather chop this hand off at a blow +And with the other fling it at thy face +Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee. + +KING EDWARD +Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend, +This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair, +Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off, +Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood: +"Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more." + +[Enter Oxford, below, wearing the red rose, +with Soldiers, Drum and Colors.] + + +WARWICK +O, cheerful colors, see where Oxford comes! + +OXFORD Oxford, Oxford for Lancaster! +[Oxford and his troops exit as through a city gate.] + +RICHARD +The gates are open; let us enter too. + +KING EDWARD +So other foes may set upon our backs. +Stand we in good array, for they no doubt +Will issue out again and bid us battle. +If not, the city being but of small defense, +We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same. + +[Oxford enters aloft.] + + +WARWICK +O welcome, Oxford, for we want thy help. + +[Enter Montague, below, wearing the red rose, +with Soldiers, Drum and Colors.] + + +MONTAGUE Montague, Montague for Lancaster! + +RICHARD +Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason +Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear! +[Montague and his troops exit as through a city gate.] + +KING EDWARD +The harder matched, the greater victory. +My mind presageth happy gain and conquest. + +[Enter Somerset, below, wearing the red rose, +with Soldiers, Drum and Colors.] + + +SOMERSET Somerset, Somerset for Lancaster! + +RICHARD +Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset, +Have sold their lives unto the house of York, +And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold. +[Somerset and his troops exit as through a city gate.] + +[Enter Clarence, below, wearing the red rose, +with Soldiers, Drum and Colors.] + + +WARWICK +And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along, +Of force enough to bid his brother battle, +With whom an upright zeal to right prevails +More than the nature of a brother's love.-- +Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick call. + +CLARENCE +Father of Warwick, know you what this means? +[He removes the red rose.] +Look, here I throw my infamy at thee. +[He throws the rose at Warwick.] +I will not ruinate my father's house, +Who gave his blood to lime the stones together +And set up Lancaster. Why, trowest thou, Warwick, +That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural, +To bend the fatal instruments of war +Against his brother and his lawful king? +Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath. +To keep that oath were more impiety +Than Jephthah when he sacrificed his daughter. +I am so sorry for my trespass made +That, to deserve well at my brother's hands, +I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe, +With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee-- +As I will meet thee if thou stir abroad-- +To plague thee for thy foul misleading me. +And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee +And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.-- +Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends.-- +And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults, +For I will henceforth be no more unconstant. + +KING EDWARD +Now, welcome more, and ten times more beloved, +Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate. + +RICHARD +Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like. + +WARWICK +O, passing traitor, perjured and unjust. + +KING EDWARD +What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight? +Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears? + +WARWICK +Alas, I am not cooped here for defense. +I will away towards Barnet presently +And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st. + +KING EDWARD +Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.-- +[Warwick exits from the walls and descends.] +Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory! +[They exit. March. Warwick and his company follows.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarum and excursions. Enter King Edward, +wearing the white rose, bringing forth Warwick, +wearing the red rose, wounded.] + + +KING EDWARD +So, lie thou there. Die thou, and die our fear, +For Warwick was a bug that feared us all. +Now, Montague, sit fast. I seek for thee, +That Warwick's bones may keep thine company. +[He exits.] + +WARWICK +Ah, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe, +And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick? +Why ask I that? My mangled body shows, +My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows +That I must yield my body to the earth +And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. +Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge, +Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, +Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, +Whose top branch overpeered Jove's spreading tree +And kept low shrubs from winter's pow'rful wind. +These eyes, that now are dimmed with death's black +veil, +Have been as piercing as the midday sun +To search the secret treasons of the world. +The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood, +Were likened oft to kingly sepulchers, +For who lived king but I could dig his grave? +And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow? +Lo, now my glory smeared in dust and blood! +My parks, my walks, my manors that I had +Even now forsake me; and of all my lands +Is nothing left me but my body's length. +Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? +And live we how we can, yet die we must. + +[Enter Oxford and Somerset, both wearing the red rose.] + + +SOMERSET +Ah, Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are, +We might recover all our loss again. +The Queen from France hath brought a puissant +power; +Even now we heard the news. Ah, could'st thou fly-- + +WARWICK +Why, then, I would not fly. Ah, Montague, +If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand +And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile. +Thou lov'st me not, for, brother, if thou didst, +Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood +That glues my lips and will not let me speak. +Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead. + +SOMERSET +Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breathed his last, +And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick, +And said "Commend me to my valiant brother." +And more he would have said, and more he spoke, +Which sounded like a cannon in a vault, +That mought not be distinguished, but at last +I well might hear, delivered with a groan, +"O, farewell, Warwick." + +WARWICK +Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves, +For Warwick bids you all farewell to meet in heaven. +[He dies.] + +OXFORD +Away, away, to meet the Queen's great power! +[Here they bear away his body. They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Edward in triumph, with Richard, +Clarence, and the rest, all wearing the white rose.] + + +KING EDWARD +Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course, +And we are graced with wreaths of victory. +But in the midst of this bright-shining day, +I spy a black suspicious threat'ning cloud +That will encounter with our glorious sun +Ere he attain his easeful western bed. +I mean, my lords, those powers that the Queen +Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast +And, as we hear, march on to fight with us. + +CLARENCE +A little gale will soon disperse that cloud +And blow it to the source from whence it came; +Thy very beams will dry those vapors up, +For every cloud engenders not a storm. + +RICHARD +The Queen is valued thirty thousand strong, +And Somerset, with Oxford, fled to her. +If she have time to breathe, be well assured +Her faction will be full as strong as ours. + +KING EDWARD +We are advertised by our loving friends +That they do hold their course toward Tewkesbury. +We having now the best at Barnet Field +Will thither straight, for willingness rids way, +And, as we march, our strength will be augmented +In every county as we go along. +Strike up the drum, cry "Courage!" and away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Flourish. March. Enter Queen Margaret, +young Prince Edward, Somerset, Oxford, +and Soldiers, all wearing the red rose.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss +But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. +What though the mast be now blown overboard, +The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost, +And half our sailors swallowed in the flood? +Yet lives our pilot still. Is 't meet that he +Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad, +With tearful eyes add water to the sea +And give more strength to that which hath too much, +Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock, +Which industry and courage might have saved? +Ah, what a shame, ah, what a fault were this! +Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that? +And Montague our topmast; what of him? +Our slaughtered friends the tackles; what of these? +Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? +And Somerset another goodly mast? +The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? +And, though unskillful, why not Ned and I +For once allowed the skillful pilot's charge? +We will not from the helm to sit and weep, +But keep our course, though the rough wind say no, +From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack. +As good to chide the waves as speak them fair. +And what is Edward but a ruthless sea? +What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? +And Richard but a ragged fatal rock-- +All these the enemies to our poor bark? +Say you can swim: alas, 'tis but awhile; +Tread on the sand: why, there you quickly sink; +Bestride the rock: the tide will wash you off +Or else you famish; that's a threefold death. +This speak I, lords, to let you understand, +If case some one of you would fly from us, +That there's no hoped-for mercy with the brothers +More than with ruthless waves, with sands and rocks. +Why, courage then! What cannot be avoided +'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit +Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, +Infuse his breast with magnanimity +And make him, naked, foil a man-at-arms. +I speak not this as doubting any here, +For did I but suspect a fearful man, +He should have leave to go away betimes, +Lest in our need he might infect another +And make him of like spirit to himself. +If any such be here, as God forbid, +Let him depart before we need his help. + +OXFORD +Women and children of so high a courage, +And warriors faint? Why, 'twere perpetual shame! +O, brave young prince, thy famous grandfather +Doth live again in thee. Long mayst thou live +To bear his image and renew his glories! + +SOMERSET +And he that will not fight for such a hope, +Go home to bed and, like the owl by day, +If he arise, be mocked and wondered at. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thanks, gentle Somerset.--Sweet Oxford, thanks. + +PRINCE EDWARD +And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand, +Ready to fight. Therefore be resolute. [He exits.] + +OXFORD +I thought no less. It is his policy +To haste thus fast to find us unprovided. + +SOMERSET +But he's deceived. We are in readiness. + +QUEEN MARGARET +This cheers my heart to see your forwardness. + +OXFORD +Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge. + +[Flourish, and march. Enter King Edward, Richard, +Clarence, and Soldiers, all wearing the white rose.] + + +KING EDWARD, [to his army] +Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood +Which by the heavens' assistance and your strength +Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night. +I need not add more fuel to your fire, +For, well I wot, you blaze to burn them out. +Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords! + +QUEEN MARGARET, [to her army] +Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say +My tears gainsay, for every word I speak +You see I drink the water of my eye. +Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign, +Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurped, +His realm a slaughterhouse, his subjects slain, +His statutes cancelled and his treasure spent, +And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil. +You fight in justice. Then, in God's name, lords, +Be valiant, and give signal to the fight! +[Alarum, retreat, excursions. They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Edward, Richard, and +Clarence, all wearing the white rose, with Soldiers +guarding Queen Margaret, Oxford, and Somerset, +all wearing the red rose, prisoners.] + + +KING EDWARD +Now here a period of tumultuous broils. +Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight. +For Somerset, off with his guilty head. +Go bear them hence. I will not hear them speak. + +OXFORD +For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words. + +SOMERSET +Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune. + +QUEEN MARGARET +So part we sadly in this troublous world +To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem. +[Oxford and Somerset exit, under guard.] + +KING EDWARD +Is proclamation made that who finds Edward +Shall have a high reward, and he his life? + +RICHARD +It is, and lo where youthful Edward comes. + +[Enter Prince Edward, wearing the red rose, +under guard.] + + +KING EDWARD +Bring forth the gallant; let us hear him speak. +What, can so young a thorn begin to prick?-- +Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make +For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, +And all the trouble thou hast turned me to? + +PRINCE EDWARD +Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York. +Suppose that I am now my father's mouth: +Resign thy chair, and where I stand, kneel thou, +Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee +Which, traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, that thy father had been so resolved! + +RICHARD +That you might still have worn the petticoat +And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Let Aesop fable in a winter's night; +His currish riddles sorts not with this place. + +RICHARD +By heaven, brat, I'll plague you for that word. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, take away this captive scold. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Nay, take away this scolding crookback, rather. + +KING EDWARD +Peace, willful boy, or I will charm your tongue. + +CLARENCE, [to Prince Edward] +Untutored lad, thou art too malapert. + +PRINCE EDWARD +I know my duty. You are all undutiful. +Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George, +And thou misshapen Dick, I tell you all +I am your better, traitors as you are, +And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine. + +KING EDWARD +Take that, the likeness of this railer here! [Stabs him.] + +RICHARD +Sprawl'st thou? Take that to end thy agony! +[Richard stabs him.] + +CLARENCE +And there's for twitting me with perjury. +[Clarence stabs him.] + +QUEEN MARGARET O, kill me too! + +RICHARD Marry, and shall. [Offers to kill her.] + +KING EDWARD +Hold, Richard, hold, for we have done too much. + +RICHARD +Why should she live to fill the world with words? +[Queen Margaret faints.] + +KING EDWARD +What, doth she swoon? Use means for her recovery. +[They attempt to revive her.] + +RICHARD, [taking Clarence aside] +Clarence, excuse me to the King my brother. +I'll hence to London on a serious matter. +Ere you come there, be sure to hear some news. + +CLARENCE What? What? + +RICHARD The Tower, the Tower! [He exits.] + +QUEEN MARGARET, [rising from her swoon] +O Ned, sweet Ned, speak to thy mother, boy. +Canst thou not speak? O traitors, murderers! +They that stabbed Caesar shed no blood at all, +Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame, +If this foul deed were by to equal it. +He was a man; this, in respect, a child, +And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. +What's worse than murderer, that I may name it? +No, no, my heart will burst an if I speak, +And I will speak, that so my heart may burst. +Butchers and villains, bloody cannibals, +How sweet a plant have you untimely cropped! +You have no children, butchers. If you had, +The thought of them would have stirred up remorse. +But if you ever chance to have a child, +Look in his youth to have him so cut off +As, deathsmen, you have rid this sweet young prince. + +KING EDWARD +Away with her. Go bear her hence perforce. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, never bear me hence! Dispatch me here. +Here sheathe thy sword; I'll pardon thee my death. +What, wilt thou not?--Then, Clarence, do it thou. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Good Clarence, do! Sweet Clarence, do thou do it. + +CLARENCE +Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself. +'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity. +What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil's butcher, +Richard, +Hard-favored Richard? Richard, where art thou? +Thou art not here. Murder is thy alms-deed; +Petitioners for blood thou ne'er putt'st back. + +KING EDWARD +Away, I say! [(To Soldiers.)] I charge you bear her +hence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +So come to you and yours as to this prince! +[Queen Margaret exits under guard. +Soldiers carry off Prince Edward's body.] + +KING EDWARD Where's Richard gone? + +CLARENCE +To London all in post, and, as I guess, +To make a bloody supper in the Tower. + +KING EDWARD +He's sudden if a thing comes in his head. +Now march we hence. Discharge the common sort +With pay and thanks, and let's away to London +And see our gentle queen how well she fares. +By this I hope she hath a son for me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter King Henry the Sixth, wearing the red rose, +and Richard of Gloucester, wearing the white rose, +with the Lieutenant above on the Tower walls.] + + +RICHARD +Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard? + +KING HENRY +Ay, my good lord--"my lord," I should say rather. +'Tis sin to flatter; "good" was little better: +"Good Gloucester" and "good devil" were alike, +And both preposterous: therefore, not "good lord." + +RICHARD, [to Lieutenant] +Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer. +[Lieutenant exits.] + +KING HENRY +So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf; +So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece +And next his throat unto the butcher's knife. +What scene of death hath Roscius now to act? + +RICHARD +Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; +The thief doth fear each bush an officer. + +KING HENRY +The bird that hath been limed in a bush, +With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush; +And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, +Have now the fatal object in my eye +Where my poor young was limed, was caught, and +killed. + +RICHARD +Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete +That taught his son the office of a fowl! +And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drowned. + +KING HENRY +I Daedalus, my poor boy Icarus, +Thy father Minos, that denied our course; +The sun that seared the wings of my sweet boy +Thy brother Edward, and thyself the sea +Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life. +Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words! +My breast can better brook thy dagger's point +Than can my ears that tragic history. +But wherefore dost thou come? Is 't for my life? + +RICHARD +Think'st thou I am an executioner? + +KING HENRY +A persecutor I am sure thou art. +If murdering innocents be executing, +Why, then, thou art an executioner. + +RICHARD +Thy son I killed for his presumption. + +KING HENRY +Hadst thou been killed when first thou didst presume, +Thou hadst not lived to kill a son of mine. +And thus I prophesy: that many a thousand +Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear, +And many an old man's sigh, and many a widow's +And many an orphan's water-standing eye, +Men for their sons, wives for their husbands, +Orphans for their parents' timeless death, +Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born. +The owl shrieked at thy birth, an evil sign; +The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time; +Dogs howled, and hideous tempest shook down trees; +The raven rooked her on the chimney's top; +And chatt'ring pies in dismal discords sung; +Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, +And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope: +To wit, an indigested and deformed lump, +Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. +Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born +To signify thou cam'st to bite the world. +And if the rest be true which I have heard, +Thou cam'st-- + +RICHARD +I'll hear no more. Die, prophet, in thy speech; + +[Stabs him.] +For this amongst the rest was I ordained. + +KING HENRY +Ay, and for much more slaughter after this. +O God, forgive my sins, and pardon thee. [Dies.] + +RICHARD +What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster +Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted. +See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death. +O, may such purple tears be always shed +From those that wish the downfall of our house. +If any spark of life be yet remaining, +Down, down to hell, and say I sent thee thither-- +[Stabs him again.] +I that have neither pity, love, nor fear. +Indeed, 'tis true that Henry told me of, +For I have often heard my mother say +I came into the world with my legs forward. +Had I not reason, think you, to make haste +And seek their ruin that usurped our right? +The midwife wondered, and the women cried +"O Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!" +And so I was, which plainly signified +That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. +Then, since the heavens have shaped my body so, +Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. +I have no brother, I am like no brother; +And this word "love," which graybeards call divine, +Be resident in men like one another +And not in me. I am myself alone. +Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light, +But I will sort a pitchy day for thee; +For I will buzz abroad such prophecies +That Edward shall be fearful of his life; +And then to purge his fear, I'll be thy death. +King Henry and the Prince his son are gone. +Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest, +Counting myself but bad till I be best. +I'll throw thy body in another room, +And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom. +[He exits, carrying out the body.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Edward, Queen Elizabeth, +Clarence, Richard of Gloucester, Hastings, Nurse, +carrying infant Prince Edward, and Attendants.] + + +KING EDWARD +Once more we sit in England's royal throne, +Repurchased with the blood of enemies. +What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn, +Have we mowed down in tops of all their pride! +Three dukes of Somerset, threefold renowned +For hardy and undoubted champions; +Two Cliffords, as the father and the son; +And two Northumberlands; two braver men +Ne'er spurred their coursers at the trumpet's sound. +With them the two brave bears, Warwick and +Montague, +That in their chains fettered the kingly lion +And made the forest tremble when they roared. +Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat +And made our footstool of security.-- +Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.-- +Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself +Have in our armors watched the winter's night, +Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat, +That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace, +And of our labors thou shalt reap the gain. + +RICHARD, [aside] +I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid; +For yet I am not looked on in the world. +This shoulder was ordained so thick to heave, +And heave it shall some weight or break my back. +Work thou the way and that shalt execute. + +KING EDWARD +Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen, +And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both. + +CLARENCE +The duty that I owe unto your Majesty +I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe. +[He kisses the infant.] + +KING EDWARD +Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks. + +RICHARD +And that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st, +Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit. +[He kisses the infant.] +[Aside.] To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master +And cried "All hail!" whenas he meant all harm. + +KING EDWARD +Now am I seated as my soul delights, +Having my country's peace and brothers' loves. + +CLARENCE +What will your Grace have done with Margaret? +Reignier, her father, to the King of France +Hath pawned the Sicils and Jerusalem, +And hither have they sent it for her ransom. + +KING EDWARD +Away with her, and waft her hence to France. +And now what rests but that we spend the time +With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows, +Such as befits the pleasure of the court? +Sound drums and trumpets! Farewell, sour annoy, +For here I hope begins our lasting joy. +[Flourish. They all exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/henry-viii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/henry-viii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c35958 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/henry-viii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4730 @@ +Henry VIII +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/henry-viii/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING Henry the Eighth +Duke of NORFOLK +Duke of SUFFOLK +Cardinal WOLSEY, Archbishop of Canterbury +SECRETARIES to Wolsey +CROMWELL, servant to Wolsey, later secretary to the Privy Council +Cardinal CAMPEIUS, Papal Legate +GARDINER, secretary to the king, later Bishop of Winchester +PAGE to Gardiner +QUEEN KATHERINE, Henry's first wife, later Princess Dowager +GRIFFITH, attendant on Katherine +PATIENCE, woman to Katherine +Queen's GENTLEMAN USHER +CAPUCHIUS, ambassador from the Emperor Charles +Duke of BUCKINGHAM +Lord ABERGAVENNY, Buckingham's son-in-law +Earl of SURREY, Buckingham's son-in-law +Sir Nicholas VAUX +Knevet, former SURVEYOR to Buckingham +BRANDON +SERGEANT at Arms +FIRST GENTLEMAN +SECOND GENTLEMAN +ANNE Bullen, Katherine's lady-in-waiting, later Henry's second wife and queen +OLD LADY, with Anne Bullen +Lord CHAMBERLAIN +Lord SANDS (also Sir Walter SANDS) +Sir Thomas LOVELL +Sir Henry GUILFORD +Bishop of LINCOLN +CRANMER, later Archbishop of Canterbury +Lord CHANCELLOR +GARTER King of Arms +THIRD GENTLEMAN +Sir Anthony DENNY +Doctor BUTTS +KEEPER +PORTER and his MAN +SCRIBES +CRIER +PROLOGUE +EPILOGUE +Spirits, Princess Elizabeth as an infant, Duchess of Norfolk, Marquess and Marchioness of Dorset, Lords, Nobles, Countesses, Bishops, Judges, Priests, Ladies, Gentlemen, Gentlemen Ushers, Lord Mayor, Four Representatives of the Cinque Ports, Aldermen, Women, Musicians, Choristers, Guards, Tipstaves, Halberds, Vergers, Attendants, Servants, Messenger, Pages, Footboys, Grooms + + +[Enter Prologue.] + + +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh. Things now +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry, bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived. For, gentle hearers, know +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting +Our own brains and the opinion that we bring +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make you. Think you see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living. Think you see them great, +And followed with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends. Then, in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery. +And if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding day. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the other, the +Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Abergavenny.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have you done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK I thank your Grace, +Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM An untimely ague +Stayed me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK 'Twixt Guynes and Arde. +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback, +Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together-- +Which had they, what four throned ones could have +weighed +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK Then you lost +The view of earthly glory. Men might say +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. Today the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English, and tomorrow they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Showed like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all gilt. The madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labor +Was to them as a painting. Now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and th' ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in luster, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them: him in eye +Still him in praise; and being present both, +'Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass, that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship, and affect +In honor honesty, the tract of everything +Would by a good discourser lose some life +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it naught rebelled. +Order gave each thing view. The office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM Who did guide, +I mean who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM I pray you who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was ordered by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! No man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' th' beneficial sun +And keep it from the Earth. + +NORFOLK Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor called upon +For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied +To eminent assistants, but spiderlike, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note +The force of his own merit makes his way-- +A gift that heaven gives for him which buys +A place next to the King. + +ABERGAVENNY I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him--let some graver eye +Pierce into that--but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that? +If not from hell, the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM Why the devil, +Upon this French going-out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' th' King, t' appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry, for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honor +He meant to lay upon; and his own letter, +The honorable board of council out, +Must fetch him in he papers. + +ABERGAVENNY I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK Grievingly I think +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM Every man, +After the hideous storm that followed, was +A thing inspired and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy: that this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on 't. + +NORFOLK Which is budded out, +For France hath flawed the league and hath attached +Our merchants' goods at Bordeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY Is it therefore +Th' ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK Marry, is 't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace, and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK Like it your Grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honor and plenteous safety--that you read +The Cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge; it's long, and 't may be said +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel; +You'll find it wholesome. Lo where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +[Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before him, +certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. +The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham, +and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.] + + +WOLSEY, [aside to a Secretary] +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +SECRETARY Here, so please you. +[He hands Wolsey a paper.] + +WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +SECRETARY Ay, please your Grace. + +WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. +[Cardinal Wolsey and his train exit.] + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venomed-mouthed, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM I read in 's looks +Matter against me, and his eye reviled +Me as his abject object. At this instant +He bores me with some trick. He's gone to th' King. +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like +A full hot horse who, being allowed his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you; be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM I'll to the King, +And from a mouth of honor quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence, or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK Be advised. +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself. We may outrun +By violent swiftness that which we run at +And lose by overrunning. Know you not +The fire that mounts the liquor till 't run o'er +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised. +I say again there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench +Or but allay the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM Sir, +I am thankful to you, and I'll go along +By your prescription. But this top-proud fellow-- +Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but +From sincere motions--by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK Say not "treasonous." + +BUCKINGHAM +To th' King I'll say 't, and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both--for he is equal rav'nous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform 't, his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the King our master +To this last costly treaty, th' interview +That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass +Did break i' th' rinsing. + +NORFOLK Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray give me favor, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' th' combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried "Thus let be," to as much end +As give a crutch to th' dead. But our Count Cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well, for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To th' old dam treason: Charles the Emperor, +Under pretense to see the Queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his color, but he came +To whisper Wolsey--here makes visitation; +His fears were that the interview betwixt +England and France might through their amity +Breed him some prejudice, for from this league +Peeped harms that menaced him; privily +Deals with our cardinal and, as I trow-- +Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor +Paid ere he promised, whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was asked. But when the way was made +And paved with gold, the Emperor thus desired +That he would please to alter the King's course +And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know-- +As soon he shall by me--that thus the Cardinal +Does buy and sell his honor as he pleases +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK I am sorry +To hear this of him, and could wish he were +Something mistaken in 't. + +BUCKINGHAM No, not a syllable. +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +[Enter Brandon, a Sergeant-at-Arms before him, and two +or three of the Guard.] + + +BRANDON +Your office, Sergeant: execute it. + +SERGEANT, [to Buckingham] Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham and Earl +Of Hertford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM, [to Norfolk] Lo you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me. I shall perish +Under device and practice. + +BRANDON I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure +You shall to th' Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence, for that dye is on me +Which makes my whit'st part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things. I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well. + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company.--The King +Is pleased you shall to th' Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY As the Duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the King's pleasure +By me obeyed. + +BRANDON Here is a warrant from +The King t' attach Lord Mountacute, and the bodies +Of the Duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his counselor-- + +BUCKINGHAM So, so; +These are the limbs o' th' plot. No more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' th' Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM O, Michael Hopkins? + +BRANDON He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false. The o'ergreat cardinal +Hath showed him gold. My life is spanned already. +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on +By dark'ning my clear sun. [To Norfolk.] My lord, +farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal's +shoulder, with the Nobles, Sir Thomas Lovell, and +Attendants, including a Secretary of the Cardinal. +The Cardinal places himself under the King's feet on +his right side.] + + +KING, [to Wolsey] +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care. I stood i' th' level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it.--Let be called before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify, +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +[A noise within crying "Room for the Queen!" Enter the +Queen Katherine, ushered by the Duke of Norfolk, and +the Duke of Suffolk. She kneels. The King riseth from +his state.] + + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor. + +KING +Arise, and take place by us. +[He takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him.] +Half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power. +The other moiety ere you ask is given; +Repeat your will, and take it. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Thank your Majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsidered leave your honor nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance. There have been commissions +Sent down among 'em which hath flawed the heart +Of all their loyalties, wherein, although +My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you as putter-on +Of these exactions, yet the King our master, +Whose honor heaven shield from soil, even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly--yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK Not "almost appears"-- +It doth appear. For, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compelled by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring th' event to th' teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among them. + +KING Taxation? +Wherein? And what taxation? My Lord Cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +WOLSEY Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part in aught +Pertains to th' state, and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHERINE No, my lord? +You know no more than others? But you frame +Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to th' hearing, and to bear 'em +The back is sacrifice to th' load. They say +They are devised by you, or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING Still exaction! +The nature of it? In what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHERINE I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience, but am boldened +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions which compels from +each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay, and the pretense for this +Is named your wars in France. This makes bold +mouths. +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them. Their curses now +Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your Highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer baseness. + +KING By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +WOLSEY And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice, and that not passed me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions in the fear +To cope malicious censurers, which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new trimmed, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours or not allowed; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still +In fear our motion will be mocked or carped at, +We should take root here where we sit, +Or sit state-statues only. + +KING Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be feared. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' th' timber, +And though we leave it with a root, thus hacked, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is questioned send our letters with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission. Pray look to 't; +I put it to your care. + +WOLSEY, [aside to his Secretary] A word with you. +Let there be letters writ to every shire +Of the King's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me. Let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. [Secretary exits.] + +[Enter Buckingham's Surveyor.] + + +QUEEN KATHERINE, [to the King] +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING It grieves many. +The gentleman is learned and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enrolled 'mongst wonders, and when we +Almost with ravished list'ning could not find +His hour of speech a minute--he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmeared in hell. Sit by us. You shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honor sad.--Bid him recount +The fore-recited practices, whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you +Most like a careful subject have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING Speak freely. + +SURVEYOR +First, it was usual with him--every day +It would infect his speech--that if the King +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the scepter his. These very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the Cardinal. + +WOLSEY Please your Highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point: +Not friended by his wish to your high person, +His will is most malignant, and it stretches +Beyond you to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHERINE My learned Lord Cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING, [to Surveyor] Speak on. +How grounded he his title to the crown +Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +SURVEYOR He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton. + +KING +What was that Henton? + +SURVEYOR Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING How know'st thou this? + +SURVEYOR +Not long before your Highness sped to France, +The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey. I replied +Men fear the French would prove perfidious, +To the King's danger. Presently the Duke +Said 'twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk "that oft," says he, +"Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment; +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living but +To me should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: 'Neither the King, nor 's heirs-- +Tell you the Duke--shall prosper. Bid him strive +To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke +Shall govern England.'" + +QUEEN KATHERINE If I know you well, +You were the Duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' th' tenants. Take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed-- +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING Let him on.-- +Go forward. + +SURVEYOR On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the Duke, by th' devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived, and that 'twas dangerous +For him to ruminate on this so far until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do. He answered "Tush, +It can do me no damage," adding further +That had the King in his last sickness failed, +The Cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING Ha! What, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man! Canst thou say further? + +SURVEYOR +I can, my liege. + +KING Proceed. + +SURVEYOR Being at Greenwich, +After your Highness had reproved the Duke +About Sir William Blumer-- + +KING +I remember of such a time, being my sworn servant, +The Duke retained him his. But on. What hence? + +SURVEYOR +"If," quoth he, "I for this had been committed," +As to the Tower, I thought, "I would have played +The part my father meant to act upon +Th' usurper Richard, who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in 's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife into him." + +KING A giant traitor! + +WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom +And this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHERINE God mend all. + +KING, [to Surveyor] +There's something more would out of thee. What sayst? + +SURVEYOR +After "the Duke his father" with "the knife," +He stretched him, and with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on 's breast, mounting his eyes, +He did discharge a horrible oath whose tenor +Was, were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us! He is attached. +Call him to present trial. If he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his; if none, +Let him not seek 't of us. By day and night, +He's traitor to th' height! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN +Is 't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous-- +Nay, let 'em be unmanly--yet are followed. + +CHAMBERLAIN +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' th' face; but they are shrewd ones, +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counselors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs and lame ones; one would +take it, +That never see 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reigned among 'em. + +CHAMBERLAIN Death! My lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to 't, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +[Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.] + +How now? +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL Faith, my lord, +I hear of none but the new proclamation +That's clapped upon the court gate. + +CHAMBERLAIN What is 't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our traveled gallants +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +CHAMBERLAIN +I'm glad 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL They must either-- +For so run the conditions--leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honorable points of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings, +Short blistered breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men, +Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it, +They may cum privilegio "oui" away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laughed at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +CHAMBERLAIN What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords. The sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies. +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For sure there's no converting of 'em. Now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong, +And have an hour of hearing, and, by 'r Lady, +Held current music too. + +CHAMBERLAIN Well said, Lord Sands. +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet? + +SANDS No, my lord, +Nor shall not while I have a stump. + +CHAMBERLAIN Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL To the Cardinal's. +Your Lordship is a guest too. + +CHAMBERLAIN O, 'tis true. +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies. There will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us. +His dews fall everywhere. + +CHAMBERLAIN No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord. 'Has wherewithal. In him, +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine. +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +CHAMBERLAIN True, they are so, +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays. +Your Lordship shall along.--Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else, which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS I am your Lordship's. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a +longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen and +divers other ladies and gentlemen as guests at one door; +at another door enter Sir Henry Guilford.] + + +GUILFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his Grace +Salutes you all. This night he dedicates +To fair content and you. None here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy has brought with her +One care abroad. He would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome +Can make good people. + +[Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and +Sir Thomas Lovell.] + +O, my lord, you're tardy! +The very thought of this fair company +Clapped wings to me. + +CHAMBERLAIN You are young, Sir Harry Guilford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet, ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em. By my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your Lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS I would I were. +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down bed would afford it. + +CHAMBERLAIN +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit?--Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this. +[The guests are seated.] +His Grace is ent'ring. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather. +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking. +Pray sit between these ladies. + +SANDS By my faith, +And thank your Lordship.--By your leave, sweet ladies. +[He sits between Anne Bullen and another lady.] +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too; +But he would bite none. Just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. +[He kisses Anne.] + +CHAMBERLAIN Well said, +my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated, gentlemen, +The penance lies on you if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +[Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, with Attendants and +Servants, and takes his state.] + + +WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady +Or gentleman that is not freely merry +Is not my friend. This to confirm my welcome, +And to you all good health. [He drinks to them.] + +SANDS Your Grace is noble. +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks +And save me so much talking. + +WOLSEY My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbors.-- +Ladies, you are not merry.--Gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord. Then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your Ladyship, and pledge it, madam, +[He drinks to her.] +For 'tis to such a thing-- + +ANNE You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your Grace they would talk anon. +[Drum and Trumpet. Chambers discharged.] + +WOLSEY What's that? + +CHAMBERLAIN +Look out there, some of you. [Servants exit.] + +WOLSEY What warlike voice, +And to what end, is this?--Nay, ladies, fear not. +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN +How now, what is 't? + +SERVANT A noble troop of strangers, +For so they seem. They've left their barge and landed, +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +WOLSEY Good Lord Chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome--you can speak the French +tongue-- +And pray receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. +[Lord Chamberlain exits, with Attendants.] +[All rise, and tables removed.] +You have now a broken banquet, but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all; and once more +I shower a welcome on you. Welcome all! + +[Hautboys. Enter King and others as masquers, habited +like shepherds, ushered by the Lord Chamberlain. +They pass directly before the Cardinal and gracefully +salute him.] + +A noble company! What are their pleasures? + +CHAMBERLAIN +Because they speak no English, thus they prayed +To tell your Grace: that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less, +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +WOLSEY Say, Lord Chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace, for which I +pay 'em +A thousand thanks and pray 'em take their pleasures. +[The masquers choose Ladies. The +King chooses Anne Bullen.] + +KING +The fairest hand I ever touched! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee. +[Music, Dance.] + +WOLSEY +My lord! + +CHAMBERLAIN Your Grace? + +WOLSEY Pray tell 'em thus much +from me: +There should be one amongst 'em by his person +More worthy this place than myself, to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +CHAMBERLAIN I will, my lord. +[Whisper with the masquers.] + +WOLSEY +What say they? + +CHAMBERLAIN Such a one they all confess +There is indeed, which they would have your Grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +WOLSEY Let me see, then. +[He leaves his state.] +By all your good leaves, gentlemen. +[He bows before the King.] +Here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING, [unmasking] You have found him, cardinal. +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord. +You are a churchman, or I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +WOLSEY I am glad +Your Grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING My Lord Chamberlain, +Prithee come hither. What fair lady's that? + +CHAMBERLAIN +An 't please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter, +The Viscount Rochford, one of her Highness' women. + +KING +By heaven, she is a dainty one.--Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly to take you out +And not to kiss you. [He kisses Anne.] A health, +gentlemen! +Let it go round. [He drinks a toast.] + +WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' th' privy chamber? + +LOVELL Yes, my lord. + +WOLSEY Your Grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING +I fear, too much. + +WOLSEY There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING +Lead in your ladies ev'ry one.--Sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you.--Let's be merry, +Good my Lord Cardinal. I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again, and then let's dream +Who's best in favor. Let the music knock it. +[They exit, with Trumpets.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter two Gentlemen at several doors.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +Whither away so fast? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN O, God save you. +E'en to the Hall to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I'll save you +That labor, sir. All's now done but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Were you there? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +Yes, indeed was I. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Pray speak what has happened. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +You may guess quickly what. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Is he found guilty? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +Yes, truly, is he, and condemned upon 't. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +I am sorry for 't. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN So are a number more. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN But pray, how passed it? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar, where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The King's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses, which the Duke desired +To him brought viva voce to his face; +At which appeared against him his surveyor, +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor, and John Car, +Confessor to him, with that devil monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN The same. +All these accused him strongly, which he fain +Would have flung from him, but indeed he could not. +And so his peers upon this evidence +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life, but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +When he was brought again to th' bar to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirred +With such an agony he sweat extremely +And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty. +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest showed a most noble patience. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +I do not think he fears death. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Sure he does not; +He never was so womanish. The cause +He may a little grieve at. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Certainly +The Cardinal is the end of this. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN 'Tis likely, +By all conjectures; first, Kildare's attainder, +Then Deputy of Ireland, who, removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally: whoever the King favors, +The Card'nal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN All the commons +Hate him perniciously and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep. This duke as much +They love and dote on, call him bounteous +Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruined man you speak of. + +[Enter Buckingham from his arraignment, Tipstaves before +him, the ax with the edge towards him, Halberds on each +side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas +Vaux, Sir Walter Sands, and Common People, etc.] + + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Let's stand close and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die. Yet heaven bear witness, +And if I have a conscience, let it sink me +Even as the ax falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice. +But those that sought it I could wish more Christian. +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em. +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men, +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the King have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me like good angels to my end, +And as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven.--Lead on, a' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your Grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven. I forgive all. +There cannot be those numberless offenses +'Gainst me that I cannot take peace with. No black +envy +Shall make my grave. Commend me to his Grace. +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray tell him +You met him half in heaven. My vows and prayers +Yet are the King's and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years. +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be; +And when old Time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To th' waterside I must conduct your Grace, +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX, [calling as to Officers offstage] Prepare there! +The Duke is coming. See the barge be ready, +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone. My state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun. +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant. I now seal it, +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for 't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distressed, was by that wretch betrayed, +And, without trial, fell. God's peace be with him. +Henry the Seventh, succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince +Restored me to my honors and out of ruins +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honor, name, and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +Forever from the world. I had my trial, +And must needs say a noble one, which makes me +A little happier than my wretched father. +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most-- +A most unnatural and faithless service. +Heaven has an end in all; yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from you, never found again +But where they mean to sink you. All good people, +Pray for me. I must now forsake you. The last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. +Farewell. And when you would say something that +is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me. +[Duke and train exit.] + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +O, this is full of pity, sir! It calls, +I fear, too many curses on their heads +That were the authors. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN If the Duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe. Yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +This secret is so weighty 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Let me have it. +I do not talk much. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I am confident; +You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the King and Katherine? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Yes, but it held not; +For when the King once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight +To stop the rumor and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now, for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was, and held for certain +The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possessed him with a scruple +That will undo her. To confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately, +As all think, for this business. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN 'Tis the Cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the Emperor +For not bestowing on him at his asking +The archbishopric of Toledo this is purposed. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +I think you have hit the mark. But is 't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The Cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN 'Tis woeful. +We are too open here to argue this. +Let's think in private more. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lord Chamberlain, reading this letter.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN My lord, the horses your Lordship sent +for, with all the care I had I saw well chosen, ridden, +and furnished. They were young and handsome and +of the best breed in the north. When they were ready +to set out for London, a man of my Lord Cardinal's, +by commission and main power, took 'em from me +with this reason: his master would be served before +a subject, if not before the King, which stopped our +mouths, sir. +I fear he will indeed; well, let him have them. +He will have all, I think. + +[Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes +of Norfolk and Suffolk.] + + +NORFOLK Well met, my Lord Chamberlain. + +CHAMBERLAIN Good day to both your Graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the King employed? + +CHAMBERLAIN I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK What's the cause? + +CHAMBERLAIN +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK 'Tis so; +This is the Cardinal's doing. The king-cardinal, +That blind priest, like the eldest son of Fortune, +Turns what he list. The King will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! He'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business, +And with what zeal! For, now he has cracked the +league +Between us and the Emperor, the Queen's +great-nephew, +He dives into the King's soul and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears and despairs--and all these for his marriage. +And out of all these to restore the King, +He counsels a divorce, a loss of her +That like a jewel has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her luster; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the King. And is not this course pious? + +CHAMBERLAIN +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true: +These news are everywhere, every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for 't. All that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The King's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance, +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages. All men's honors +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashioned +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK For me, my lords, +I love him not nor fear him; there's my creed. +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the King please. His curses and his blessings +Touch me alike: they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the Pope. + +NORFOLK Let's in, +And with some other business put the King +From these sad thoughts that work too much upon +him.-- +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +CHAMBERLAIN Excuse me; +The King has sent me otherwhere. Besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him. +Health to your Lordships. + +NORFOLK Thanks, my good Lord +Chamberlain. +[Lord Chamberlain exits; and the King draws +the curtain and sits reading pensively.] + +SUFFOLK, [to Norfolk] +How sad he looks! Sure he is much afflicted. + +KING +Who's there? Ha? + +NORFOLK, [to Suffolk] Pray God he be not angry. + +KING +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? Who am I, ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offenses +Malice ne'er meant. Our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate, in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING You are too bold. +Go to; I'll make you know your times of business. +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +[Enter Wolsey and Campeius, with a commission.] + +Who's there? My good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience, +Thou art a cure fit for a king. [To Campeius.] You're +welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom. +Use us and it.--My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +WOLSEY Sir, you cannot. +I would your Grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING, [to Norfolk and Suffolk] We are busy. Go. + +NORFOLK, [aside to Suffolk] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK, [aside to Norfolk] Not to speak of. +I would not be so sick, though for his place. +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK, [aside to Suffolk] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK, [aside to Norfolk] I another. +[Norfolk and Suffolk exit.] + +WOLSEY +Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom. +Who can be angry now? What envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied by blood and favor to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble; all the clerks-- +I mean the learned ones in Christian kingdoms-- +Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius, +Whom once more I present unto your Highness. + +KING +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves. +They have sent me such a man I would have wished +for. [He embraces Campeius.] + +CAMPEIUS, [handing the King a paper] +Your Grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your Highness' hand +I tender my commission--by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my Lord +Cardinal of York, are joined with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING +Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +WOLSEY +I know your Majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allowed freely to argue for her. + +KING +Ay, and the best she shall have, and my favor +To him that does best. God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new secretary. +I find him a fit fellow. [Wolsey goes to the door.] + +[Enter Gardiner to Wolsey.] + + +WOLSEY, [aside to Gardiner] +Give me your hand. Much joy and favor to you. +You are the King's now. + +GARDINER, [aside to Wolsey] But to be commanded +Forever by your Grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING Come hither, Gardiner. +[The King and Gardiner walk and whisper.] + +CAMPEIUS +My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +WOLSEY Yes, he was. + +CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +WOLSEY Yes, surely. + +CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread, then, +Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal. + +WOLSEY How? Of me? + +CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him +And, fearing he would rise--he was so virtuous-- +Kept him a foreign man still, which so grieved him +That he ran mad and died. + +WOLSEY Heav'n's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough. For living murmurers, +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool, +For he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow +If I command him follows my appointment. +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother: +We live not to be griped by meaner persons. + +KING, [to Gardiner] +Deliver this with modesty to th' Queen. +[Gardiner exits.] +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars. +There you shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnished. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place, and I must leave her. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Anne Bullen and an old Lady.] + + +ANNE +Not for that neither. Here's the pang that pinches: +His Highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonor of her--by my life, +She never knew harm-doing!--O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousandfold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first t' acquire--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! It is a pity +Would move a monster. + +OLD LADY Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE O, God's will! Much better +She ne'er had known pomp; though 't be temporal, +Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +OLD LADY Alas, poor lady, +She's a stranger now again! + +ANNE So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born +And range with humble livers in content +Than to be perked up in a glist'ring grief +And wear a golden sorrow. + +OLD LADY Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +OLD LADY Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for 't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy. +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart, which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE Nay, good troth. + +OLD LADY +Yes, troth, and troth. You would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. + +OLD LADY +'Tis strange. A threepence bowed would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it. But I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE No, in truth. + +OLD LADY +Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a little. +I would not be a young count in your way +For more than blushing comes to. If your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burden, 'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +OLD LADY In faith, for little England +You'd venture an emballing. I myself +Would for Carnarvanshire, although there longed +No more to th' crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +[Enter Lord Chamberlain.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN +Good morrow, ladies. What were 't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking. +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +CHAMBERLAIN +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women. There is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE Now, I pray God, amen! + +CHAMBERLAIN +You bear a gentle mind, and heav'nly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the King's Majesty +Commends his good opinion of you to you, and +Does purpose honor to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke, to which title +A thousand pound a year annual support +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender. +More than my all is nothing, nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities. Yet prayers and +wishes +Are all I can return. 'Beseech your Lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness, +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +CHAMBERLAIN Lady, +I shall not fail t' approve the fair conceit +The King hath of you. [(Aside.)] I have perused her +well. +Beauty and honor in her are so mingled +That they have caught the King. And who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle?--I'll to the King +And say I spoke with you. + +ANNE My honored lord. +[Lord Chamberlain exits.] + +OLD LADY Why, this it is! See, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you--O, fate!-- +A very fresh fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compelled fortune!--have your mouth filled up +Before you open it. + +ANNE This is strange to me. + +OLD LADY +How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no. +There was a lady once--'tis an old story-- +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +OLD LADY With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke? +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect? +No other obligation? By my life, +That promises more thousands; honor's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess. Say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on 't. Would I had no being +If this salute my blood a jot. It faints me +To think what follows. +The Queen is comfortless and we forgetful +In our long absence. Pray do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +OLD LADY What do you think me? +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with +short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of +doctors; after them, the Bishop of Canterbury alone; after +him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint +Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a +Gentleman bearing the purse with the great seal, and a +cardinal's hat. Then two Priests, bearing each a silver +cross; then a Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied +with a Sergeant-at-Arms, bearing a silver mace; then two +Gentlemen, bearing two great silver pillars. After them, +side by side, the two Cardinals, and two Noblemen with +the sword and mace. The King takes place under the cloth +of state. The two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The +Queen takes place some distance from the King. The +Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in +manner of a consistory; below them the Scribes. The +Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants +including a Crier and the Queen's Gentleman Usher +stand in convenient order about the stage.] + + +WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides th' authority allowed. +You may then spare that time. + +WOLSEY Be 't so. Proceed. + +SCRIBE Say "Henry King of England, come into the +court." + +CRIER Henry King of England, come into the court. + +KING Here. + +SCRIBE Say "Katherine Queen of England, come into +the court." + +CRIER Katherine Queen of England, come into the +court. +[The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her +chair, goes about the court, comes to the King, +and kneels at his feet; then speaks.] + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice, +And to bestow your pity on me; for +I am a most poor woman and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions, having here +No judge indifferent nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? What cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure +That thus you should proceed to put me off +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable, +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined. When was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? What friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger did I +Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife in this obedience +Upward of twenty years, and have been blessed +With many children by you. If, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honor aught, +My bond to wedlock or my love and duty +Against your sacred person, in God's name +Turn me away and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir, +The King your father was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatched wit and judgment. Ferdinand, +My father, King of Spain, was reckoned one +The wisest prince that there had reigned by many +A year before. It is not to be questioned +That they had gathered a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deemed our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised, whose counsel +I will implore. If not, i' th' name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfilled. + +WOLSEY You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers, men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' th' land, who are assembled +To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court, as well +For your own quiet as to rectify +What is unsettled in the King. + +CAMPEIUS His Grace +Hath spoken well and justly. Therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed +And that without delay their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Lord Cardinal, +To you I speak. + +WOLSEY Your pleasure, madam. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Sir, +I am about to weep; but thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dreamed so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +WOLSEY Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge; for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me-- +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge, whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +WOLSEY I do profess +You speak not like yourself, who ever yet +Have stood to charity and displayed th' effects +Of disposition gentle and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me +wrong. +I have no spleen against you, nor injustice +For you or any. How far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the Consistory, +Yea, the whole Consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I "have blown this coal." I do deny it. +The King is present. If it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood, yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me, and the cure is to +Remove these thoughts from you, the which before +His Highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHERINE My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +T' oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouthed; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility, but your heart +Is crammed with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have by fortune and his Highness' favors +Gone slightly o'er low steps, and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as 't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honor than +Your high profession spiritual, that again +I do refuse you for my judge, and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the Pope +To bring my whole cause 'fore his Holiness, +And to be judged by him. +[She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.] + +CAMPEIUS The Queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by 't. 'Tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING Call her again. + +CRIER Katherine, Queen of England, come into the +court. + +GENTLEMAN USHER Madam, you are called back. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +What need you note it? Pray you, keep your way. +When you are called, return. Now, the Lord help! +They vex me past my patience. Pray you, pass on. +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. +[Queen and her Attendants exit.] + +KING Go thy ways, Kate. +That man i' th' world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in naught be trusted, +For speaking false in that. Thou art, alone-- +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saintlike, wifelike government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out-- +The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born, +And like her true nobility she has +Carried herself towards me. + +WOLSEY Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your Highness +That it shall please you to declare in hearing +Of all these ears--for where I am robbed and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your Highness, or +Laid any scruple in your way which might +Induce you to the question on 't, or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING My Lord Cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honor, +I free you from 't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies that know not +Why they are so but, like to village curs, +Bark when their fellows do. By some of these +The Queen is put in anger. You're excused. +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wished the sleeping of this business, never +desired +It to be stirred, but oft have hindered, oft, +The passages made toward it. On my honor +I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to 't, +I will be bold with time and your attention. +Then mark th' inducement. Thus it came; give heed +to 't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick on certain speeches uttered +By th' Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador, +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary. I' th' progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the Bishop, did require a respite +Wherein he might the King his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometime our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, entered me, +Yea, with a spitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way +That many mazed considerings did throng +And pressed in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had +Commanded nature that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to 't than +The grave does to th' dead, for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had aired them. Hence I took a thought +This was a judgment on me, that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' th' world, should not +Be gladded in 't by me. Then follows that +I weighed the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail, and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy whereupon we are +Now present here together. That's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience, which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well, +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learned. First, I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln. You remember +How under my oppression I did reek +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN Very well, my liege. + +KING +I have spoke long. Be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN So please your Highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in 't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt, +And did entreat your Highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave +To make this present summons. Unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court, +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals. Therefore go on, +For no dislike i' th' world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons drives this forward. +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katherine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragoned o' th' world. + +CAMPEIUS So please your Highness, +The Queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day. +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the Queen to call back her appeal +She intends unto his Holiness. + +KING, [aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me. I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learned and well-beloved servant Cranmer, +Prithee return. With thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along.--Break up the court. +I say, set on. +[They exit, in manner as they entered.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Queen and her Women, as at work.] + + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Take thy lute, wench. My soul grows sad with troubles. +Sing, and disperse 'em if thou canst. Leave working. + +WOMAN [sings song.] + + Orpheus with his lute made trees + And the mountaintops that freeze + Bow themselves when he did sing. + To his music plants and flowers + Ever sprung, as sun and showers + There had made a lasting spring. + + Everything that heard him play, + Even the billows of the sea, + Hung their heads and then lay by. + In sweet music is such art, + Killing care and grief of heart + Fall asleep or, hearing, die. + +[Enter a Gentleman.] + + +QUEEN KATHERINE How now? + +GENTLEMAN +An 't please your Grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Would they speak with me? + +GENTLEMAN +They willed me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Pray their Graces +To come near. [Gentleman exits.] +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favor? +I do not like their coming, now I think on 't. +They should be good men, their affairs as righteous. +But all hoods make not monks. + +[Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius.] + + +WOLSEY Peace to your Highness. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Your Graces find me here part of a housewife; +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +WOLSEY +May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHERINE Speak it here. +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner. Would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do. +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by ev'ry tongue, ev'ry eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly. Truth loves open dealing. + +WOLSEY Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima-- + +QUEEN KATHERINE O, good my lord, no Latin! +I am not such a truant since my coming +As not to know the language I have lived in. +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious. +Pray speak in English. Here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake. +Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +WOLSEY Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed-- +And service to his Majesty and you-- +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honor every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow-- +You have too much, good lady--but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the King and you, and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CAMPEIUS Most honored madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal, and obedience he still bore your Grace, +Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure +Both of his truth and him--which was too far-- +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHERINE, [aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills. +You speak like honest men; pray God you prove so. +But how to make you suddenly an answer +In such a point of weight, so near mine honor-- +More near my life, I fear--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids, full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness--good your Graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause. +Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless. + +WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the King's love with these fears; +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHERINE In England +But little for my profit. Can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel, +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his Highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth. My friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here. +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CAMPEIUS I would your Grace +Would leave your griefs and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHERINE How, sir? + +CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the King's protection. +He's loving and most gracious. 'Twill be much +Both for your honor better and your cause, +For if the trial of the law o'ertake you, +You'll part away disgraced. + +WOLSEY He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +You tell me what you wish for both: my ruin. +Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon you! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CAMPEIUS Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +The more shame for you! Holy men I thought you, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear you. +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that you bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among you, laughed at, scorned? +I will not wish you half my miseries; +I have more charity. But say I warned you: +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burden of my sorrows fall upon you. + +WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction. +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +You turn me into nothing! Woe upon you +And all such false professors. Would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity, +If you be anything but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banished me his bed already, +His love, too, long ago. I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? All your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CAMPEIUS Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one-- +A woman, I dare say without vainglory, +Never yet branded with suspicion-- +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the King, loved him next heav'n, obeyed him, +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him, +Almost forgot my prayers to content him, +And am I thus rewarded? 'Tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dreamed a joy beyond his pleasure, +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honor: a great patience. + +WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to. Nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +WOLSEY Pray hear me. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Would I had never trod this English earth +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +You have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady? +I am the most unhappy woman living. +[To her Women.] Alas, poor wenches, where are now +your fortunes? +Shipwracked upon a kingdom where no pity, +No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for me, +Almost no grave allowed me, like the lily +That once was mistress of the field and flourished, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +WOLSEY If your Grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'd feel more comfort. Why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? Alas, our places, +The way of our profession, is against it. +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do, +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the King's acquaintance by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it. But to stubborn spirits +They swell and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm. Pray think us +Those we profess: peacemakers, friends, and servants. + +CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears. A noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The King loves +you; +Beware you lose it not. For us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHERINE +Do what you will, my lords, and pray forgive me +If I have used myself unmannerly. +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray do my service to his Majesty. +He has my heart yet and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me. She now begs +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Duke of Norfolk, Duke of Suffolk, Lord Surrey, +and Lord Chamberlain.] + + +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints +And force them with a constancy, the Cardinal +Cannot stand under them. If you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain more new disgraces +With these you bear already. + +SURREY I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law the Duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK Which of the peers +Have uncontemned gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? When did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +CHAMBERLAIN My lords, you speak your pleasures; +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him--though now the time +Gives way to us--I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to th' King, never attempt +Anything on him, for he hath a witchcraft +Over the King in 's tongue. + +NORFOLK O, fear him not. +His spell in that is out. The King hath found +Matter against him that forever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK Believe it, this is true. +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded, wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY How came +His practices to light? + +SUFFOLK Most strangely. + +SURREY O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The Cardinal's letters to the Pope miscarried +And came to th' eye o' th' King, wherein was read +How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness +To stay the judgment o' th' divorce; for if +It did take place, "I do," quoth he, "perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the Queen's, Lady Anne Bullen." + +SURREY +Has the King this? + +SUFFOLK Believe it. + +SURREY Will this work? + +CHAMBERLAIN +The King in this perceives him how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the King already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord, +For I profess you have it. + +SURREY Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK My amen to 't. + +NORFOLK All men's. + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation. +Marry, this is yet but young and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature and complete +In mind and feature. I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land which shall +In it be memorized. + +SURREY But will the King +Digest this letter of the Cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK No, no. +There be more wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome, hath ta'en no leave, +Has left the cause o' th' King unhandled, and +Is posted as the agent of our cardinal +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The King cried "Ha!" at this. + +CHAMBERLAIN Now God incense him, +And let him cry "Ha!" louder. + +NORFOLK But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is returned in his opinions, which +Have satisfied the King for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be published, and +Her coronation. Katherine no more +Shall be called queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the King's business. + +SUFFOLK He has, and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK So I hear. + +SUFFOLK 'Tis so. + +[Enter Wolsey and Cromwell, meeting.] + +The Cardinal! + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe; he's moody. [They stand aside.] + +WOLSEY The packet, Cromwell; +Gave 't you the King? + +CROMWELL To his own hand, in 's bedchamber. + +WOLSEY +Looked he o' th' inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL Presently +He did unseal them, and the first he viewed, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +WOLSEY Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL I think by this he is. + +WOLSEY Leave me awhile. [Cromwell exits.] +[Aside.] It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister; he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen? No, I'll no Anne Bullens for him. +There's more in 't than fair visage. Bullen? +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK Maybe he hears the King +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +WOLSEY, [aside] +The late queen's gentlewoman, a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress? The Queen's queen? +This candle burns not clear. 'Tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well-deserving? Yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to +Our cause that she should lie i' th' bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch-one, Cranmer, one +Hath crawled into the favor of the King +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK He is vexed at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on 's heart. + +SUFFOLK The King, the King! + +[Enter King, reading of a schedule, with Lovell +and Attendants.] + + +KING +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! And what expense by th' hour +Seems to flow from him! How i' th' name of thrift +Does he rake this together? [Seeing the nobles.] Now, +my lords, +Saw you the Cardinal? + +NORFOLK, [indicating Wolsey] My lord, we have +Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion +Is in his brain. He bites his lip, and starts, +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait, then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon. In most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING It may well be +There is a mutiny in 's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required, and wot you what I found? +There--on my conscience, put unwittingly-- +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs and ornaments of household, which +I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK It's heaven's will! +Some spirit put this paper in the packet +To bless your eye withal. + +KING, [studying Wolsey] If we did think +His contemplation were above the Earth +And fixed on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings, but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. +[King takes his seat, whispers Lovell, +who goes to the Cardinal.] + +WOLSEY Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your Highness. + +KING Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind, the which +You were now running o'er. You have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +WOLSEY Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' th' state; and Nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendance to. + +KING You have said well. + +WOLSEY +And ever may your Highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying. + +KING 'Tis well said again, +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well. +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you; +He said he did, and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office +I have kept you next my heart, have not alone +Employed you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +WOLSEY, [aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY, [aside] +The Lord increase this business! + +KING Have I not made you +The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me +If what I now pronounce you have found true; +And, if you may confess it, say withal +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Showered on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite, which went +Beyond all man's endeavors. My endeavors +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends +Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed +To th' good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heaped upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing +Till death--that winter--kill it. + +KING Fairly answered. +A loyal and obedient subject is +Therein illustrated. The honor of it +Does pay the act of it, as, i' th' contrary, +The foulness is the punishment. I presume +That, as my hand has opened bounty to you, +My heart dropped love, my power rained honor, more +On you than any, so your hand and heart, +Your brain, and every function of your power +Should--notwithstanding that your bond of duty +As 'twere in love's particular--be more +To me, your friend, than any. + +WOLSEY I do profess +That for your Highness' good I ever labored +More than mine own, that am, have, and will be-- +Though all the world should crack their duty to you +And throw it from their soul, though perils did +Abound as thick as thought could make 'em, and +Appear in forms more horrid--yet my duty, +As doth a rock against the chiding flood, +Should the approach of this wild river break, +And stand unshaken yours. + +KING 'Tis nobly spoken.-- +Take notice, lords: he has a loyal breast, +For you have seen him open 't. +[He hands Wolsey papers.] +Read o'er this, +And after, this; and then to breakfast with +What appetite you have. +[King exits, frowning upon the Cardinal; +the nobles throng after him smiling +and whispering, and exit.] + +WOLSEY What should this mean? +What sudden anger's this? How have I reaped it? +He parted frowning from me, as if ruin +Leaped from his eyes. So looks the chafed lion +Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him, +Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper-- +I fear, the story of his anger. +[He reads one of the papers.] +'Tis so. +This paper has undone me. 'Tis th' accompt +Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together +For mine own ends--indeed, to gain the popedom +And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence, +Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil +Made me put this main secret in the packet +I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this? +No new device to beat this from his brains? +I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know +A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune +Will bring me off again. [He looks at another paper.] +What's this? "To th' Pope"? +The letter, as I live, with all the business +I writ to 's Holiness. Nay then, farewell! +I have touched the highest point of all my greatness, +And from that full meridian of my glory +I haste now to my setting. I shall fall +Like a bright exhalation in the evening +And no man see me more. + +[Enter to Wolsey the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the +Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.] + + +NORFOLK +Hear the King's pleasure, cardinal, who commands +you +To render up the great seal presently +Into our hands, and to confine yourself +To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's, +Till you hear further from his Highness. + +WOLSEY Stay. +Where's your commission, lords? Words cannot carry +Authority so weighty. + +SUFFOLK Who dare cross 'em, +Bearing the King's will from his mouth expressly? + +WOLSEY +Till I find more than will or words to do it-- +I mean your malice--know, officious lords, +I dare and must deny it. Now I feel +Of what coarse metal you are molded, envy; +How eagerly you follow my disgraces, +As if it fed you, and how sleek and wanton +You appear in everything may bring my ruin. +Follow your envious courses, men of malice; +You have Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt +In time will find their fit rewards. That seal +You ask with such a violence, the King, +Mine and your master, with his own hand gave me; +Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honors, +During my life; and to confirm his goodness, +Tied it by letters patents. Now, who'll take it? + +SURREY +The King that gave it. + +WOLSEY It must be himself, then. + +SURREY +Thou art a proud traitor, priest. + +WOLSEY Proud lord, thou liest. +Within these forty hours Surrey durst better +Have burnt that tongue than said so. + +SURREY Thy ambition, +Thou scarlet sin, robbed this bewailing land +Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law. +The heads of all thy brother cardinals, +With thee and all thy best parts bound together, +Weighed not a hair of his. Plague of your policy! +You sent me Deputy for Ireland, +Far from his succor, from the King, from all +That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him, +Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, +Absolved him with an ax. + +WOLSEY This, and all else +This talking lord can lay upon my credit, +I answer, is most false. The Duke by law +Found his deserts. How innocent I was +From any private malice in his end, +His noble jury and foul cause can witness.-- +If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you +You have as little honesty as honor, +That in the way of loyalty and truth +Toward the King, my ever royal master, +Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be, +And all that love his follies. + +SURREY By my soul, +Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel +My sword i' th' life blood of thee else.--My lords, +Can you endure to hear this arrogance? +And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely, +To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet, +Farewell, nobility. Let his Grace go forward +And dare us with his cap, like larks. + +WOLSEY All goodness +Is poison to thy stomach. + +SURREY Yes, that goodness +Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one, +Into your own hands, card'nal, by extortion; +The goodness of your intercepted packets +You writ to th' Pope against the King. Your goodness, +Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.-- +My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble, +As you respect the common good, the state +Of our despised nobility, our issues, +Whom, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen, +Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles +Collected from his life.--I'll startle you +Worse than the sacring bell when the brown wench +Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal. + +WOLSEY +How much, methinks, I could despise this man, +But that I am bound in charity against it! + +NORFOLK +Those articles, my lord, are in the King's hand; +But thus much, they are foul ones. + +WOLSEY So much fairer +And spotless shall mine innocence arise +When the King knows my truth. + +SURREY This cannot save you. +I thank my memory I yet remember +Some of these articles, and out they shall. +Now, if you can blush and cry "Guilty," cardinal, +You'll show a little honesty. + +WOLSEY Speak on, sir. +I dare your worst objections. If I blush, +It is to see a nobleman want manners. + +SURREY +I had rather want those than my head. Have at you: +First, that without the King's assent or knowledge, +You wrought to be a legate, by which power +You maimed the jurisdiction of all bishops. + +NORFOLK +Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else +To foreign princes, "ego et rex meus" +Was still inscribed, in which you brought the King +To be your servant. + +SUFFOLK Then, that without the knowledge +Either of king or council, when you went +Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold +To carry into Flanders the great seal. + +SURREY +Item, you sent a large commission +To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude, +Without the King's will or the state's allowance, +A league between his Highness and Ferrara. + +SUFFOLK +That out of mere ambition you have caused +Your holy hat to be stamped on the King's coin. + +SURREY +Then, that you have sent innumerable substance-- +By what means got I leave to your own conscience-- +To furnish Rome and to prepare the ways +You have for dignities, to the mere undoing +Of all the kingdom. Many more there are +Which, since they are of you, and odious, +I will not taint my mouth with. + +CHAMBERLAIN O, my lord, +Press not a falling man too far! 'Tis virtue. +His faults lie open to the laws; let them, +Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him +So little of his great self. + +SURREY I forgive him. + +SUFFOLK +Lord Cardinal, the King's further pleasure is-- +Because all those things you have done of late +By your power legative within this kingdom +Fall into th' compass of a praemunire-- +That therefore such a writ be sued against you, +To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements, +Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be +Out of the King's protection. This is my charge. + +NORFOLK +And so we'll leave you to your meditations +How to live better. For your stubborn answer +About the giving back the great seal to us, +The King shall know it and, no doubt, shall thank +you. +So, fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal. + +WOLSEY +So, farewell to the little good you bear me. +[All but Wolsey exit.] +Farewell? A long farewell to all my greatness! +This is the state of man: today he puts forth +The tender leaves of hopes; tomorrow blossoms +And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; +The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, +And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely +His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, +And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, +Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, +This many summers in a sea of glory, +But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride +At length broke under me and now has left me, +Weary and old with service, to the mercy +Of a rude stream that must forever hide me. +Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate you. +I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched +Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors! +There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, +That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, +More pangs and fears than wars or women have; +And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, +Never to hope again. + +[Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.] + +Why, how now, Cromwell? + +CROMWELL +I have no power to speak, sir. + +WOLSEY What, amazed +At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder +A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, +I am fall'n indeed. + +CROMWELL How does your Grace? + +WOLSEY Why, well. +Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. +I know myself now, and I feel within me +A peace above all earthly dignities, +A still and quiet conscience. The King has cured me-- +I humbly thank his Grace--and from these shoulders, +These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken +A load would sink a navy: too much honor. +O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden +Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven. + +CROMWELL +I am glad your Grace has made that right use of it. + +WOLSEY +I hope I have. I am able now, methinks, +Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, +To endure more miseries and greater far +Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer. +What news abroad? + +CROMWELL The heaviest and the worst +Is your displeasure with the King. + +WOLSEY God bless him. + +CROMWELL +The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen +Lord Chancellor in your place. + +WOLSEY That's somewhat sudden. +But he's a learned man. May he continue +Long in his Highness' favor and do justice +For truth's sake and his conscience, that his bones, +When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, +May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him. +What more? + +CROMWELL That Cranmer is returned with welcome, +Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. + +WOLSEY +That's news indeed. + +CROMWELL Last, that the Lady Anne, +Whom the King hath in secrecy long married, +This day was viewed in open as his queen, +Going to chapel, and the voice is now +Only about her coronation. + +WOLSEY +There was the weight that pulled me down. +O Cromwell, +The King has gone beyond me. All my glories +In that one woman I have lost forever. +No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors, +Or gild again the noble troops that waited +Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell. +I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now +To be thy lord and master. Seek the King; +That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him +What and how true thou art. He will advance thee; +Some little memory of me will stir him-- +I know his noble nature--not to let +Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell, +Neglect him not. Make use now, and provide +For thine own future safety. + +CROMWELL, [weeping] O, my lord, +Must I then leave you? Must I needs forgo +So good, so noble, and so true a master? +Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, +With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. +The King shall have my service, but my prayers +Forever and forever shall be yours. + +WOLSEY, [weeping] +Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear +In all my miseries, but thou hast forced me, +Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. +Let's dry our eyes. And thus far hear me, Cromwell, +And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, +And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention +Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee; +Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory +And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor, +Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rise in, +A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. +Mark but my fall and that that ruined me. +Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition! +By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, +The image of his maker, hope to win by it? +Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee. +Corruption wins not more than honesty. +Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace +To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. +Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, +Thy God's, and truth's. Then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, +Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. +Serve the King. And, prithee, lead me in. +There take an inventory of all I have +To the last penny; 'tis the King's. My robe +And my integrity to heaven is all +I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, +Had I but served my God with half the zeal +I served my king, He would not in mine age +Have left me naked to mine enemies. + +CROMWELL +Good sir, have patience. + +WOLSEY So I have. Farewell, +The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another, the First +Gentleman carrying a paper.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +You're well met once again. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN So are you. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +You come to take your stand here and behold +The Lady Anne pass from her coronation? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +'Tis all my business. At our last encounter, +The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +'Tis very true. But that time offered sorrow, +This general joy. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN 'Tis well. The citizens +I am sure have shown at full their royal minds, +As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward +In celebration of this day with shows, +Pageants, and sights of honor. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Never greater, +Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +May I be bold to ask what that contains, +That paper in your hand? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Yes, 'tis the list +Of those that claim their offices this day +By custom of the coronation. +The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims +To be High Steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk, +He to be Earl Marshal. You may read the rest. +[He offers him the paper.] + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +I thank you, sir. Had I not known those customs, +I should have been beholding to your paper. +But I beseech you, what's become of Katherine, +The Princess Dowager? How goes her business? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +That I can tell you too. The Archbishop +Of Canterbury, accompanied with other +Learned and reverend fathers of his order, +Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off +From Ampthill, where the Princess lay, to which +She was often cited by them, but appeared not; +And, to be short, for not appearance and +The King's late scruple, by the main assent +Of all these learned men she was divorced, +And the late marriage made of none effect; +Since which she was removed to Kymmalton, +Where she remains now sick. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Alas, good lady! +[Hautboys. A lively flourish of trumpets.] +The trumpets sound. Stand close. The Queen is coming. + +[Then, enter two Judges; Lord Chancellor, with purse +and mace before him. Choristers singing. Music. +Enter Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then +Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head he wore a +gilt copper crown.] + + +A royal train, believe me! These I know. + +[Enter Marques Dorset, bearing a scepter of gold; on his +head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of +Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned +with an earl's coronet. Collars of S's.] + + +Who's that that bears the scepter? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Marques Dorset, +And that the Earl of Surrey with the rod. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +A bold brave gentleman. + +[Enter Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his +coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High +Steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of +Marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of S's.] + + +That should be +The Duke of Suffolk. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN 'Tis the same: High Steward. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +And that my Lord of Norfolk? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Yes. + +[Enter a canopy, borne by four of the Cinque-ports, +under it the Queen in her robe, in her hair, richly +adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the +Bishops of London and Winchester.] + + + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Heaven bless thee! +Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on.-- +Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel. +Our king has all the Indies in his arms, +And more, and richer, when he strains that lady. +I cannot blame his conscience. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN They that bear +The cloth of honor over her are four barons +Of the Cinque-ports. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Those men are happy, and so are all are near her. + +[Enter the Old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of +gold wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen's train. +Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold +without flowers.] + + +I take it she that carries up the train +Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +It is, and all the rest are countesses. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +And sometimes falling ones. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN No more of that. +[The Coronation procession exits, having +passed over the stage in order and state, and then +a great flourish of trumpets.] + +[Enter a third Gentleman.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +God save you, sir. Where have you been broiling? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +Among the crowd i' th' Abbey, where a finger +Could not be wedged in more. I am stifled +With the mere rankness of their joy. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN You saw +The ceremony? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN That I did. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN How was it? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +Well worth the seeing. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Good sir, speak it to us! + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +As well as I am able. The rich stream +Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen +To a prepared place in the choir, fell off +A distance from her, while her Grace sat down +To rest awhile, some half an hour or so, +In a rich chair of state, opposing freely +The beauty of her person to the people. +Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman +That ever lay by man, which when the people +Had the full view of, such a noise arose +As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest-- +As loud and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks, +Doublets, I think, flew up, and had their faces +Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy +I never saw before. Great-bellied women +That had not half a week to go, like rams +In the old time of war, would shake the press +And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living +Could say "This is my wife there," all were woven +So strangely in one piece. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN But what followed? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +At length her Grace rose, and with modest paces +Came to the altar, where she kneeled and saintlike +Cast her fair eyes to heaven and prayed devoutly, +Then rose again and bowed her to the people. +When by the Archbishop of Canterbury +She had all the royal makings of a queen-- +As, holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, +The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems-- +Laid nobly on her; which performed, the choir, +With all the choicest music of the kingdom, +Together sung Te Deum. So she parted, +And with the same full state paced back again +To York Place, where the feast is held. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Sir, +You must no more call it "York Place"; that's past, +For since the Cardinal fell, that title's lost. +'Tis now the King's and called "Whitehall." + +THIRD GENTLEMAN I know it, +But 'tis so lately altered that the old name +Is fresh about me. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN What two reverend bishops +Were those that went on each side of the Queen? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester, +Newly preferred from the King's secretary, +The other London. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN He of Winchester +Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop's, +The virtuous Cranmer. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN All the land knows that. +However, yet there is no great breach. When it comes, +Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Who may that be, I pray you? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Thomas Cromwell, +A man in much esteem with th' King, and truly +A worthy friend. The King has made him +Master o' th' Jewel House, +And one already of the Privy Council. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +He will deserve more. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Yes, without all doubt. +Come, gentlemen, you shall go my way, +Which is to th' court, and there you shall be my +guests, +Something I can command. As I walk thither, +I'll tell you more. + +BOTH You may command us, sir. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Katherine Dowager, sick, led between Griffith, her +gentleman usher, and Patience, her woman.] + + +GRIFFITH +How does your Grace? + +KATHERINE O Griffith, sick to death. +My legs like loaden branches bow to th' earth, +Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair. +[She sits.] +So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease. +Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me, +That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey, +Was dead? + +GRIFFITH Yes, madam, but I think your Grace, +Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to 't. + +KATHERINE +Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died. +If well, he stepped before me happily +For my example. + +GRIFFITH Well, the voice goes, madam; +For after the stout Earl Northumberland +Arrested him at York and brought him forward, +As a man sorely tainted, to his answer, +He fell sick suddenly and grew so ill +He could not sit his mule. + +KATHERINE Alas, poor man! + +GRIFFITH +At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, +Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot +With all his convent honorably received him; +To whom he gave these words: "O Father Abbot, +An old man, broken with the storms of state, +Is come to lay his weary bones among you. +Give him a little earth, for charity." +So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness +Pursued him still; and three nights after this, +About the hour of eight, which he himself +Foretold should be his last, full of repentance, +Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, +He gave his honors to the world again, +His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace. + +KATHERINE +So may he rest. His faults lie gently on him! +Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, +And yet with charity. He was a man +Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking +Himself with princes; one that by suggestion +Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play. +His own opinion was his law. I' th' presence +He would say untruths, and be ever double +Both in his words and meaning. He was never, +But where he meant to ruin, pitiful. +His promises were, as he then was, mighty, +But his performance, as he is now, nothing. +Of his own body he was ill, and gave +The clergy ill example. + +GRIFFITH Noble madam, +Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues +We write in water. May it please your Highness +To hear me speak his good now? + +KATHERINE Yes, good Griffith; +I were malicious else. + +GRIFFITH This cardinal, +Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly +Was fashioned to much honor. From his cradle +He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one: +Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; +Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, +But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. +And though he were unsatisfied in getting, +Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam, +He was most princely. Ever witness for him +Those twins of learning that he raised in you, +Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him, +Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; +The other, though unfinished, yet so famous, +So excellent in art, and still so rising, +That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. +His overthrow heaped happiness upon him, +For then, and not till then, he felt himself, +And found the blessedness of being little. +And, to add greater honors to his age +Than man could give him, he died fearing God. + +KATHERINE +After my death I wish no other herald, +No other speaker of my living actions, +To keep mine honor from corruption +But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. +Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, +With thy religious truth and modesty, +Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!-- +Patience, be near me still, and set me lower. +I have not long to trouble thee.--Good Griffith, +Cause the musicians play me that sad note +I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating +On that celestial harmony I go to. +[Sad and solemn music.] + +GRIFFITH +She is asleep. Good wench, let's sit down quiet, +For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience. +[They sit.] + +[The Vision. + +Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six +Personages clad in white robes, wearing on their +heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their +faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They +first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain +changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her +head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies. +Then the two that held the garland deliver the same +to the other next two, who observe the same order in +their changes and holding the garland over her head; +which done, they deliver the same garland to the last +two, who likewise observe the same order. At which, +as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep +signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to +heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying +the garland with them.] + +[The music continues.] + +KATHERINE, [waking] +Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone, +And leave me here in wretchedness behind you? + +GRIFFITH +Madam, we are here. + +KATHERINE It is not you I call for. +Saw you none enter since I slept? + +GRIFFITH None, madam. + +KATHERINE +No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop +Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces +Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun? +They promised me eternal happiness +And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel +I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly. + +GRIFFITH +I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams +Possess your fancy. + +KATHERINE Bid the music leave. +They are harsh and heavy to me. [Music ceases.] + +PATIENCE, [aside to Griffith] Do you note +How much her Grace is altered on the sudden? +How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks, +And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes. + +GRIFFITH, [aside to Patience] +She is going, wench. Pray, pray. + +PATIENCE Heaven comfort her! + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER, [to Katherine] +An 't like your Grace-- + +KATHERINE You are a saucy fellow. +Deserve we no more reverence? + +GRIFFITH, [to Messenger] You are to blame, +Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness, +To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel. + +MESSENGER, [kneeling] +I humbly do entreat your Highness' pardon. +My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying +A gentleman sent from the King to see you. + +KATHERINE +Admit him entrance, Griffith. [Messenger rises.] +But this fellow +Let me ne'er see again. [Messenger exits.] + +[Enter Lord Capuchius.] + +If my sight fail not, +You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor, +My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius. + +CAPUCHIUS +Madam, the same. Your servant. + +KATHERINE O my lord, +The times and titles now are altered strangely +With me since first you knew me. But I pray you, +What is your pleasure with me? + +CAPUCHIUS Noble lady, +First, mine own service to your Grace; the next, +The King's request that I would visit you, +Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me +Sends you his princely commendations, +And heartily entreats you take good comfort. + +KATHERINE +O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late; +'Tis like a pardon after execution. +That gentle physic given in time had cured me. +But now I am past all comforts here but prayers. +How does his Highness? + +CAPUCHIUS Madam, in good health. + +KATHERINE +So may he ever do, and ever flourish, +When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name +Banished the kingdom.--Patience, is that letter +I caused you write yet sent away? + +PATIENCE No, madam. +[She presents a paper to Katherine, who gives +it to Capuchius.] + +KATHERINE +Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver +This to my lord the King-- + +CAPUCHIUS Most willing, madam. + +KATHERINE +In which I have commended to his goodness +The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter-- +The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!-- +Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding-- +She is young and of a noble, modest nature; +I hope she will deserve well--and a little +To love her for her mother's sake that loved him, +Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition +Is that his noble Grace would have some pity +Upon my wretched women, that so long +Have followed both my fortunes faithfully, +Of which there is not one, I dare avow-- +And now I should not lie--but will deserve, +For virtue and true beauty of the soul, +For honesty and decent carriage, +A right good husband. Let him be a noble; +And sure those men are happy that shall have 'em. +The last is for my men--they are the poorest, +But poverty could never draw 'em from me-- +That they may have their wages duly paid 'em, +And something over to remember me by. +If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life +And able means, we had not parted thus. +These are the whole contents. And, good my lord, +By that you love the dearest in this world, +As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, +Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the King +To do me this last right. + +CAPUCHIUS By heaven, I will, +Or let me lose the fashion of a man! + +KATHERINE +I thank you, honest lord. Remember me +In all humility unto his Highness. +Say his long trouble now is passing +Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed him, +For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell, +My lord.--Griffith, farewell.--Nay, Patience, +You must not leave me yet. I must to bed; +Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench, +Let me be used with honor. Strew me over +With maiden flowers, that all the world may know +I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me, +Then lay me forth. Although unqueened, yet like +A queen and daughter to a king inter me. +I can no more. +[They exit, leading Katherine.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a +torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.] + + +GARDINER +It's one o'clock, boy, is 't not? + +PAGE It hath struck. + +GARDINER +These should be hours for necessities, +Not for delights; times to repair our nature +With comforting repose, and not for us +To waste these times.--Good hour of night, Sir +Thomas. +Whither so late? + +LOVELL Came you from the King, my lord? + +GARDINER +I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero +With the Duke of Suffolk. + +LOVELL I must to him too, +Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave. + +GARDINER +Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter? +It seems you are in haste. An if there be +No great offense belongs to 't, give your friend +Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk, +As they say spirits do, at midnight have +In them a wilder nature than the business +That seeks dispatch by day. + +LOVELL My lord, I love you, +And durst commend a secret to your ear +Much weightier than this work. The Queen's in +labor-- +They say in great extremity--and feared +She'll with the labor end. + +GARDINER The fruit she goes with +I pray for heartily, that it may find +Good time and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas, +I wish it grubbed up now. + +LOVELL Methinks I could +Cry the amen, and yet my conscience says +She's a good creature and, sweet lady, does +Deserve our better wishes. + +GARDINER But, sir, sir, +Hear me, Sir Thomas. You're a gentleman +Of mine own way. I know you wise, religious; +And let me tell you, it will ne'er be well, +'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take 't of me, +Till Cranmer, Cromwell--her two hands--and she +Sleep in their graves. + +LOVELL Now, sir, you speak of two +The most remarked i' th' kingdom. As for Cromwell, +Besides that of the Jewel House, is made Master +O' th' Rolls and the King's secretary; further, sir, +Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments, +With which the time will load him. Th' Archbishop +Is the King's hand and tongue, and who dare speak +One syllable against him? + +GARDINER Yes, yes, Sir Thomas, +There are that dare, and I myself have ventured +To speak my mind of him. And indeed this day, +Sir--I may tell it you, I think--I have +Incensed the lords o' th' Council that he is-- +For so I know he is, they know he is-- +A most arch heretic, a pestilence +That does infect the land; with which they, moved, +Have broken with the King, who hath so far +Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace +And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs +Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded +Tomorrow morning to the Council board +He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas, +And we must root him out. From your affairs +I hinder you too long. Goodnight, Sir Thomas. + +LOVELL +Many good nights, my lord. I rest your servant. +[Gardiner and Page exit.] + +[Enter King and Suffolk.] + + +KING +Charles, I will play no more tonight. +My mind's not on 't; you are too hard for me. + +SUFFOLK +Sir, I did never win of you before. + +KING But little, Charles, +Nor shall not when my fancy's on my play.-- +Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news? + +LOVELL +I could not personally deliver to her +What you commanded me, but by her woman +I sent your message, who returned her thanks +In the great'st humbleness, and desired your Highness +Most heartily to pray for her. + +KING What sayst thou, ha? +To pray for her? What, is she crying out? + +LOVELL +So said her woman, and that her suff'rance made +Almost each pang a death. + +KING Alas, good lady! + +SUFFOLK +God safely quit her of her burden, and +With gentle travail, to the gladding of +Your Highness with an heir! + +KING 'Tis midnight, Charles. +Prithee, to bed, and in thy prayers remember +Th' estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone, +For I must think of that which company +Would not be friendly to. + +SUFFOLK I wish your Highness +A quiet night, and my good mistress will +Remember in my prayers. + +KING Charles, good night. +[Suffolk exits.] + +[Enter Sir Anthony Denny.] + +Well, sir, what follows? + +DENNY +Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop, +As you commanded me. + +KING Ha! Canterbury? + +DENNY +Ay, my good lord. + +KING 'Tis true. Where is he, Denny? + +DENNY +He attends your Highness' pleasure. + +KING Bring him to us. +[Denny exits.] + +LOVELL, [aside] +This is about that which the Bishop spake. +I am happily come hither. + +[Enter Cranmer and Denny.] + + +KING +Avoid the gallery. [Lovell seems to stay.] +Ha! I have said. Be gone! +What! [Lovell and Denny exit.] + +CRANMER, [aside] I am fearful. Wherefore frowns he thus? +'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well. + +KING +How now, my lord? You do desire to know +Wherefore I sent for you. + +CRANMER, [kneeling] It is my duty +T' attend your Highness' pleasure. + +KING Pray you arise, +My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury. +Come, you and I must walk a turn together. +I have news to tell you. Come, come, give me your +hand. [Cranmer rises.] +Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak, +And am right sorry to repeat what follows. +I have, and most unwillingly, of late +Heard many grievous--I do say, my lord, +Grievous--complaints of you, which, being +considered, +Have moved us and our Council that you shall +This morning come before us, where I know +You cannot with such freedom purge yourself +But that, till further trial in those charges +Which will require your answer, you must take +Your patience to you and be well contented +To make your house our Tower. You a brother of us, +It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness +Would come against you. + +CRANMER, [kneeling] I humbly thank your +Highness, +And am right glad to catch this good occasion +Most throughly to be winnowed, where my chaff +And corn shall fly asunder. For I know +There's none stands under more calumnious tongues +Than I myself, poor man. + +KING Stand up, good Canterbury! +Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted +In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand. Stand up. +[Cranmer rises.] +Prithee, let's walk. Now by my halidom, +What manner of man are you? My lord, I looked +You would have given me your petition that +I should have ta'en some pains to bring together +Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you +Without endurance further. + +CRANMER Most dread liege, +The good I stand on is my truth and honesty. +If they shall fail, I with mine enemies +Will triumph o'er my person, which I weigh not, +Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing +What can be said against me. + +KING Know you not +How your state stands i' th' world, with the whole +world? +Your enemies are many and not small; their practices +Must bear the same proportion, and not ever +The justice and the truth o' th' question carries +The due o' th' verdict with it. At what ease +Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt +To swear against you? Such things have been done. +You are potently opposed, and with a malice +Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, +I mean in perjured witness, than your master, +Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived +Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to. +You take a precipice for no leap of danger +And woo your own destruction. + +CRANMER God and your Majesty +Protect mine innocence, or I fall into +The trap is laid for me. + +KING Be of good cheer. +They shall no more prevail than we give way to. +Keep comfort to you, and this morning see +You do appear before them. If they shall chance, +In charging you with matters, to commit you, +The best persuasions to the contrary +Fail not to use, and with what vehemency +Th' occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties +Will render you no remedy, this ring +Deliver them, and your appeal to us +There make before them. [He gives Cranmer a ring.] +[Aside.] Look, the good man weeps! +He's honest, on mine honor! God's blest mother, +I swear he is truehearted, and a soul +None better in my kingdom.--Get you gone, +And do as I have bid you. [Cranmer exits.] +He has strangled +His language in his tears. + +LOVELL [(within)] Come back! What mean you? + +[Enter Old Lady, followed by Lovell.] + + +OLD LADY +I'll not come back! The tidings that I bring +Will make my boldness manners.--Now, good angels +Fly o'er thy royal head and shade thy person +Under their blessed wings! + +KING Now by thy looks +I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered? +Say "Ay, and of a boy." + +OLD LADY Ay, ay, my liege, +And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven +Both now and ever bless her! 'Tis a girl +Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen +Desires your visitation, and to be +Acquainted with this stranger. 'Tis as like you +As cherry is to cherry. + +KING Lovell. + +LOVELL Sir. + +KING +Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the Queen. +[King exits.] + +OLD LADY +An hundred marks? By this light, I'll ha' more. +An ordinary groom is for such payment. +I will have more or scold it out of him. +Said I for this the girl was like to him? +I'll have more or else unsay 't. And now, +While 'tis hot, I'll put it to the issue. +[Old Lady exits, with Lovell.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. (Pages, +Footboys, Grooms, and other servants attend at the +Council door.)] + + +CRANMER +I hope I am not too late, and yet the gentleman +That was sent to me from the Council prayed me +To make great haste. [He tries the door.] +All fast? What means this? Ho! +Who waits there? + +[Enter Keeper.] + +Sure you know me! + +KEEPER Yes, my lord, +But yet I cannot help you. + +CRANMER Why? + +KEEPER +Your Grace must wait till you be called for. + +CRANMER So. + +[Enter Doctor Butts.] + + +BUTTS, [aside] +This is a piece of malice. I am glad +I came this way so happily. The King +Shall understand it presently. [Butts exits.] + +CRANMER, [aside] 'Tis Butts, +The King's physician. As he passed along +How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! +Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace. For certain +This is of purpose laid by some that hate me-- +God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice-- +To quench mine honor. They would shame to make me +Wait else at door, a fellow councillor, +'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures +Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience. + +[Enter the King and Butts at a window above.] + + +BUTTS +I'll show your Grace the strangest sight. + +KING What's that, +Butts? + +BUTTS +I think your Highness saw this many a day. + +KING +Body o' me, where is it? + +BUTTS There, my lord: +The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury, +Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants, +Pages, and footboys. + +KING Ha! 'Tis he indeed. +Is this the honor they do one another? +'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought +They had parted so much honesty among 'em-- +At least good manners--as not thus to suffer +A man of his place, and so near our favor, +To dance attendance on their Lordships' pleasures, +And at the door, too, like a post with packets. +By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery! +Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close. +We shall hear more anon. [They draw the curtain.] + +[A council table brought in with chairs and stools and +placed under the state. Enter Lord Chancellor, places +himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand, a +seat being left void above him, as for Canterbury's seat. +Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord +Chamberlain, Gardiner seat themselves in order on each +side, Cromwell at lower end as secretary.] + + +CHANCELLOR +Speak to the business, Master Secretary. +Why are we met in council? + +CROMWELL Please your honors, +The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury. + +GARDINER +Has he had knowledge of it? + +CROMWELL Yes. + +NORFOLK, [to Keeper] Who waits there? + +KEEPER +Without, my noble lords? + +GARDINER Yes. + +KEEPER My lord Archbishop, +And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. + +CHANCELLOR +Let him come in. + +KEEPER, [at door] Your Grace may enter now. +[Cranmer approaches the council table.] + +CHANCELLOR +My good lord Archbishop, I'm very sorry +To sit here at this present and behold +That chair stand empty. But we all are men, +In our own natures frail, and capable +Of our flesh--few are angels--out of which frailty +And want of wisdom you, that best should teach us, +Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little, +Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling +The whole realm, by your teaching and your +chaplains'-- +For so we are informed--with new opinions, +Divers and dangerous, which are heresies +And, not reformed, may prove pernicious. + +GARDINER +Which reformation must be sudden too, +My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses +Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, +But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur 'em +Till they obey the manage. If we suffer, +Out of our easiness and childish pity +To one man's honor, this contagious sickness, +Farewell, all physic. And what follows then? +Commotions, uproars, with a general taint +Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbors, +The upper Germany, can dearly witness, +Yet freshly pitied in our memories. + +CRANMER +My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress +Both of my life and office, I have labored, +And with no little study, that my teaching +And the strong course of my authority +Might go one way and safely; and the end +Was ever to do well. Nor is there living-- +I speak it with a single heart, my lords-- +A man that more detests, more stirs against, +Both in his private conscience and his place, +Defacers of a public peace than I do. +Pray heaven the King may never find a heart +With less allegiance in it! Men that make +Envy and crooked malice nourishment +Dare bite the best. I do beseech your Lordships +That, in this case of justice, my accusers, +Be what they will, may stand forth face to face +And freely urge against me. + +SUFFOLK Nay, my lord, +That cannot be. You are a councillor, +And by that virtue no man dare accuse you. + +GARDINER +My lord, because we have business of more moment, +We will be short with you. 'Tis his Highness' pleasure, +And our consent, for better trial of you +From hence you be committed to the Tower, +Where, being but a private man again, +You shall know many dare accuse you boldly-- +More than, I fear, you are provided for. + +CRANMER +Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you. +You are always my good friend. If your will pass, +I shall both find your Lordship judge and juror, +You are so merciful. I see your end: +'Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord, +Become a churchman better than ambition. +Win straying souls with modesty again; +Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, +Lay all the weight you can upon my patience, +I make as little doubt as you do conscience +In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, +But reverence to your calling makes me modest. + +GARDINER +My lord, my lord, you are a sectary. +That's the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers, +To men that understand you, words and weakness. + +CROMWELL +My Lord of Winchester, you're a little, +By your good favor, too sharp. Men so noble, +However faulty, yet should find respect +For what they have been. 'Tis a cruelty +To load a falling man. + +GARDINER Good Master Secretary-- +I cry your Honor mercy--you may worst +Of all this table say so. + +CROMWELL Why, my lord? + +GARDINER +Do not I know you for a favorer +Of this new sect? You are not sound. + +CROMWELL Not sound? + +GARDINER +Not sound, I say. + +CROMWELL Would you were half so honest! +Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears. + +GARDINER +I shall remember this bold language. + +CROMWELL Do. +Remember your bold life too. + +CHANCELLOR This is too much! +Forbear, for shame, my lords. + +GARDINER I have done. + +CROMWELL And I. + +CHANCELLOR, [to Cranmer] +Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed, +I take it, by all voices, that forthwith +You be conveyed to th' Tower a prisoner, +There to remain till the King's further pleasure +Be known unto us.--Are you all agreed, lords? + +ALL +We are. + +CRANMER Is there no other way of mercy +But I must needs to th' Tower, my lords? + +GARDINER What other +Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome. +Let some o' th' guard be ready there. + +[Enter the Guard.] + + +CRANMER For me? +Must I go like a traitor thither? + +GARDINER Receive him, +And see him safe i' th' Tower. + +CRANMER Stay, good my lords, +I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords. +[He holds out the ring.] +By virtue of that ring, I take my cause +Out of the grips of cruel men and give it +To a most noble judge, the King my master. + +CHAMBERLAIN +This is the King's ring. + +SURREY 'Tis no counterfeit. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis the right ring, by heaven! I told you all, +When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, +'Twould fall upon ourselves. + +NORFOLK Do you think, my lords, +The King will suffer but the little finger +Of this man to be vexed? + +CHAMBERLAIN 'Tis now too certain. +How much more is his life in value with him! +Would I were fairly out on 't! + +CROMWELL My mind gave me, +In seeking tales and informations +Against this man, whose honesty the devil +And his disciples only envy at, +You blew the fire that burns you. Now, have at you! + +[Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat.] + + +GARDINER +Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven +In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince, +Not only good and wise, but most religious; +One that in all obedience makes the Church +The chief aim of his honor, and to strengthen +That holy duty out of dear respect, +His royal self in judgment comes to hear +The cause betwixt her and this great offender. + +KING +You were ever good at sudden commendations, +Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not +To hear such flattery now, and in my presence +They are too thin and base to hide offenses. +To me you cannot reach. You play the spaniel, +And think with wagging of your tongue to win me; +But whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I'm sure +Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.-- +Good man, sit down. [Cranmer takes his seat.] +Now let me see the proudest +He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee. +By all that's holy, he had better starve +Than but once think this place becomes thee not. + +SURREY +May it please your Grace-- + +KING No, sir, it does not please +me. +I had thought I had had men of some understanding +And wisdom of my Council, but I find none. +Was it discretion, lords, to let this man, +This good man--few of you deserve that title-- +This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy +At chamber door? And one as great as you are? +Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission +Bid you so far forget yourselves? I gave you +Power as he was a councillor to try him, +Not as a groom. There's some of you, I see, +More out of malice than integrity, +Would try him to the utmost, had you mean, +Which you shall never have while I live. + +CHANCELLOR Thus far, +My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace +To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed +Concerning his imprisonment was rather, +If there be faith in men, meant for his trial +And fair purgation to the world than malice, +I'm sure, in me. + +KING Well, well, my lords, respect him. +Take him, and use him well; he's worthy of it. +I will say thus much for him: if a prince +May be beholding to a subject, I +Am, for his love and service, so to him. +Make me no more ado, but all embrace him. +Be friends, for shame, my lords. +[They embrace Cranmer.] +My Lord of Canterbury, +I have a suit which you must not deny me: +That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism. +You must be godfather and answer for her. + +CRANMER +The greatest monarch now alive may glory +In such an honor. How may I deserve it, +That am a poor and humble subject to you? + +KING Come, come, my lord, you'd spare your spoons. +You shall have two noble partners with you: the +old Duchess of Norfolk and Lady Marquess Dorset. +Will these please you?-- +Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you, +Embrace and love this man. + +GARDINER With a true heart +And brother-love I do it. [He embraces Cranmer.] + +CRANMER, [weeping] And let heaven +Witness how dear I hold this confirmation. + +KING +Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart. +The common voice, I see, is verified +Of thee, which says thus: "Do my Lord of Canterbury +A shrewd turn, and he's your friend forever."-- +Come, lords, we trifle time away. I long +To have this young one made a Christian. +As I have made you one, lords, one remain. +So I grow stronger, you more honor gain. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man, +carrying cudgels.] + + +PORTER You'll leave your noise anon, you rascals! Do +you take the court for Parish Garden? You rude +slaves, leave your gaping! + +ONE, [within] Good Master Porter, I belong to th' +larder. + +PORTER Belong to th' gallows and be hanged, you rogue! +Is this a place to roar in?--Fetch me a dozen crab-tree +staves, and strong ones. These are but switches +to 'em.--I'll scratch your heads! You must be seeing +christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, +you rude rascals? + +PORTER'S MAN +Pray, sir, be patient. 'Tis as much impossible-- +Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons-- +To scatter 'em as 'tis to make 'em sleep +On May Day morning, which will never be. +We may as well push against Paul's as stir 'em. + +PORTER How got they in, and be hanged? + +PORTER'S MAN +Alas, I know not. How gets the tide in? +As much as one sound cudgel of four foot-- +You see the poor remainder--could distribute, +I made no spare, sir. + +PORTER You did nothing, sir. + +PORTER'S MAN +I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, +To mow 'em down before me; but if I spared any +That had a head to hit, either young or old, +He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, +Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again-- +And that I would not for a cow, God save her! + +ONE, [within] Do you hear, Master Porter? + +PORTER I shall be with you presently, good master +puppy.-- Keep the door close, sirrah. + +PORTER'S MAN What would you have me do? + +PORTER What should you do but knock 'em down by +th' dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have +we some strange Indian with the great tool come to +court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a +fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, +this one christening will beget a thousand; +here will be father, godfather, and all together. + +PORTER'S MAN The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is +a fellow somewhat near the door--he should be a +brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, twenty of +the dog days now reign in 's nose. All that stand +about him are under the line; they need no other +penance. That fire-drake did I hit three times on the +head, and three times was his nose discharged +against me. He stands there like a mortar-piece, to +blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small +wit near him that railed upon me till her pinked +porringer fell off her head for kindling such a +combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once +and hit that woman, who cried out "Clubs!" when I +might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to +her succor, which were the hope o' th' Strand, where +she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my +place. At length they came to th' broomstaff to me; +I defied 'em still, when suddenly a file of boys behind +'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of +pibbles that I was fain to draw mine honor in and +let 'em win the work. The devil was amongst 'em, I +think, surely. + +PORTER These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse +and fight for bitten apples, that no audience +but the tribulation of Tower Hill or the limbs of +Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to +endure. I have some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and +there they are like to dance these three days, besides +the running banquet of two beadles that is to come. + +[Enter Lord Chamberlain.] + + +CHAMBERLAIN +Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here! +They grow still too. From all parts they are coming, +As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, +These lazy knaves?--You've made a fine hand, fellows! +There's a trim rabble let in. Are all these +Your faithful friends o' th' suburbs? We shall have +Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, +When they pass back from the christening! + +PORTER An 't please +your Honor, +We are but men, and what so many may do, +Not being torn a-pieces, we have done. +An army cannot rule 'em. + +CHAMBERLAIN As I live, +If the King blame me for 't, I'll lay you all +By th' heels, and suddenly, and on your heads +Clap round fines for neglect. You're lazy knaves, +And here you lie baiting of bombards, when +You should do service. [Trumpets.] +Hark, the trumpets sound! +They're come already from the christening. +Go break among the press, and find a way out +To let the troop pass fairly, or I'll find +A Marshalsea shall hold you play these two months. + +PORTER +Make way there for the Princess! + +PORTER'S MAN You great fellow, +Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache. + +PORTER +You i' th' camlet, get up o' th' rail! +I'll peck you o'er the pales else. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Trumpets, sounding. Then two Aldermen, Lord +Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his +marshal's staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing +great standing bowls for the christening gifts; then four +Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess +of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited +in a mantle, etc., train borne by a Lady. Then follows the +Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. +The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.] + + +GARTER Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send +prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high +and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth. + +[Flourish. Enter King and Guard.] + + +CRANMER, [kneeling] +And to your royal Grace and the good queen, +My noble partners and myself thus pray +All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady +Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy +May hourly fall upon you! + +KING Thank you, good lord +Archbishop. +What is her name? + +CRANMER Elizabeth. + +KING Stand up, lord. +[Cranmer stands.] +With this kiss take my blessing. [King kisses infant.] +God protect thee, +Into whose hand I give thy life. + +CRANMER Amen. + +KING, [to the two godmothers] +My noble gossips, you've been too prodigal. +I thank you heartily; so shall this lady +When she has so much English. + +CRANMER Let me speak, sir, +For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter +Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth. +This royal infant--heaven still move about her!-- +Though in her cradle, yet now promises +Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, +Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be-- +But few now living can behold that goodness-- +A pattern to all princes living with her +And all that shall succeed. Saba was never +More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue +Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces +That mold up such a mighty piece as this is, +With all the virtues that attend the good, +Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her; +Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her. +She shall be loved and feared. Her own shall bless her; +Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn +And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with +her. +In her days every man shall eat in safety +Under his own vine what he plants and sing +The merry songs of peace to all his neighbors. +God shall be truly known, and those about her +From her shall read the perfect ways of honor +And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. +Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but, as when +The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, +Her ashes new create another heir +As great in admiration as herself, +So shall she leave her blessedness to one, +When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness, +Who from the sacred ashes of her honor +Shall starlike rise as great in fame as she was +And so stand fixed. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, +That were the servants to this chosen infant, +Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him. +Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, +His honor and the greatness of his name +Shall be, and make new nations. He shall flourish, +And like a mountain cedar reach his branches +To all the plains about him. Our children's children +Shall see this and bless heaven. + +KING Thou speakest wonders. + +CRANMER +She shall be to the happiness of England +An aged princess; many days shall see her, +And yet no day without a deed to crown it. +Would I had known no more! But she must die, +She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, +A most unspotted lily, shall she pass +To th' ground, and all the world shall mourn her. + +KING O lord +Archbishop, +Thou hast made me now a man. Never before +This happy child did I get anything. +This oracle of comfort has so pleased me +That when I am in heaven I shall desire +To see what this child does and praise my Maker.-- +I thank you all.--To you, my good lord mayor +And you, good brethren, I am much beholding. +I have received much honor by your presence, +And you shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords. +You must all see the Queen, and she must thank you; +She will be sick else. This day, no man think +'Has business at his house, for all shall stay. +This little one shall make it holiday. +[They exit.] + + +[Enter Epilogue.] + + +EPILOGUE +'Tis ten to one this play can never please +All that are here. Some come to take their ease +And sleep an act or two--but those, we fear, +We've frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear, +They'll say 'tis naught--others, to hear the city +Abused extremely and to cry "That's witty!"-- +Which we have not done neither--that I fear +All the expected good we're like to hear +For this play at this time is only in +The merciful construction of good women, +For such a one we showed 'em. If they smile +And say 'twill do, I know within a while +All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap +If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/julius-caesar_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/julius-caesar_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d66fd04 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/julius-caesar_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4325 @@ +Julius Caesar +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/julius-caesar/ +Created on May 11, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.1 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +JULIUS CAESAR +CALPHURNIA, his wife +Servant to them +MARCUS BRUTUS +PORTIA, his wife +LUCIUS, their servant +Patricians who, with Brutus, conspire against Caesar: + CAIUS CASSIUS + CASCA + CINNA + DECIUS BRUTUS + CAIUS LIGARIUS + METELLUS CIMBER + TREBONIUS +Senators: + CICERO + PUBLIUS + POPILIUS LENA +Tribunes: + FLAVIUS + MARULLUS +Rulers of Rome in Acts 4 and 5: + MARK ANTONY + LEPIDUS + OCTAVIUS +Servant to Antony +Servant to Octavius +Officers and soldiers in the armies of Brutus and Cassius: + LUCILIUS + TITINIUS + MESSALA + VARRO + CLAUDIUS + YOUNG CATO + STRATO + VOLUMNIUS + LABEO (nonspeaking) + FLAVIUS (nonspeaking) + DARDANUS + CLITUS +A Carpenter +A Cobbler +A Soothsayer +ARTEMIDORUS +First, Second, Third, and Fourth Plebeians +CINNA the poet +PINDARUS, slave to Cassius, freed upon Cassius's death +First, Second, Third, and Fourth Soldiers in Brutus's army +Another Poet +A Messenger +First and Second Soldiers in Antony's army +Citizens, Senators, Petitioners, Plebeians, Soldiers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Flavius, Marullus, and certain Commoners, +including a Carpenter and a Cobbler, over the stage.] + + +FLAVIUS +Hence! Home, you idle creatures, get you home! +Is this a holiday? What, know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a laboring day without the sign +Of your profession?--Speak, what trade art thou? + +CARPENTER Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on?-- +You, sir, what trade are you? + +COBBLER Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am +but, as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. + +COBBLER A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe +conscience, which is indeed, sir, a mender of bad +soles. + +FLAVIUS +What trade, thou knave? Thou naughty knave, what +trade? + +COBBLER Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me. +Yet if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy +fellow? + +COBBLER Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +COBBLER Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the +awl. I meddle with no tradesman's matters nor +women's matters, but withal I am indeed, sir, a +surgeon to old shoes: when they are in great danger, +I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +COBBLER Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to +get myself into more work. But indeed, sir, we +make holiday to see Caesar and to rejoice in his +triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome +To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless +things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? +Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault +Assemble all the poor men of your sort, +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. +[All the Commoners exit.] +See whe'er their basest mettle be not moved. +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol. +This way will I. Disrobe the images +If you do find them decked with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter. Let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about +And drive away the vulgar from the streets; +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers plucked from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Caesar, Antony for the course, Calphurnia, Portia, +Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, a Soothsayer; +after them Marullus and Flavius and Commoners.] + + +CAESAR +Calphurnia. + +CASCA Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR Calphurnia. + +CALPHURNIA Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way +When he doth run his course.--Antonius. + +ANTONY Caesar, my lord. + +CAESAR +Forget not in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calphurnia, for our elders say +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY I shall remember. +When Caesar says "Do this," it is performed. + +CAESAR +Set on and leave no ceremony out. [Sennet.] + +SOOTHSAYER Caesar. + +CAESAR Ha! Who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still. Peace, yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue shriller than all the music +Cry "Caesar." Speak. Caesar is turned to hear. + +SOOTHSAYER +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me. Let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng. +[The Soothsayer comes forward.] +Look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again. + +SOOTHSAYER Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass. +[Sennet. All but Brutus and Cassius exit.] + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS Not I. + +CASSIUS I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome. I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires. +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late. +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have. +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS Cassius, +Be not deceived. If I have veiled my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors. +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved +(Among which number, Cassius, be you one) +Nor construe any further my neglect +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion, +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius, for the eye sees not itself +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS 'Tis just. +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear. +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus. +Were I a common laughter, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. +[Flourish and shout.] + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius, yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other +And I will look on both indifferently; +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honor more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favor. +Well, honor is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you; +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he. +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me "Dar'st thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood +And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word, +Accoutered as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roared, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy. +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried "Help me, Cassius, or I sink!" +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake. 'Tis true, this god did shake. +His coward lips did from their color fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his luster. I did hear him groan. +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +"Alas," it cried "Give me some drink, Titinius" +As a sick girl. You gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. +[Shout. Flourish.] + +BRUTUS Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honors that are heaped on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonorable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates. +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +"Brutus" and "Caesar"--what should be in that +"Caesar"? +Why should that name be sounded more than +yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +"Brutus" will start a spirit as soon as "Caesar." +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, +That her wide walks encompassed but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say +There was a Brutus once that would have brooked +Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous. +What you would work me to, I have some aim. +How I have thought of this, and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter. For this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from +Brutus. + +[Enter Caesar and his train.] + + +BRUTUS +The games are done, and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve, +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note today. + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train. +Calphurnia's cheek is pale, and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being crossed in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR Antonius. + +ANTONY Caesar. + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat, +Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights. +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. +He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous. +He is a noble Roman, and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not. +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much, +He is a great observer, and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men. He loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit +That could be moved to smile at anything. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be feared +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. +[Sennet. Caesar and his train exit +but Casca remains behind.] + +CASCA You pulled me by the cloak. Would you speak +with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca. Tell us what hath chanced today +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA Why, there was a crown offered him; and, being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus, and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS What was the second noise for? + +CASCA Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice. What was the last cry for? + +CASCA Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA Ay, marry, was 't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other; and at every putting-by, +mine honest neighbors shouted. + +CASSIUS Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it. +It was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown (yet 'twas not a crown +neither; 'twas one of these coronets), and, as I told +you, he put it by once; but for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he offered +it to him again; then he put it by again; but to my +thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. +And then he offered it the third time. He put it the +third time by, and still as he refused it the rabblement +hooted and clapped their chopped hands and +threw up their sweaty nightcaps and uttered such a +deal of stinking breath because Caesar refused the +crown that it had almost choked Caesar, for he +swooned and fell down at it. And for mine own part, +I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and +receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But soft, I pray you. What, did Caesar swoon? + +CASCA He fell down in the marketplace and foamed at +mouth and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like; he hath the falling sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA I know not what you mean by that, but I am +sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in the +theater, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived +the common herd was glad he refused the crown, +he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, +if I would not have taken him at a word, I +would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said if he +had done or said anything amiss, he desired their +Worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four +wenches where I stood cried "Alas, good soul!" and +forgave him with all their hearts. But there's no +heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stabbed +their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And, after that, he came thus sad away? + +CASCA Ay. + +CASSIUS Did Cicero say anything? + +CASCA Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS To what effect? + +CASCA Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' th' +face again. But those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads. But for mine +own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarves +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember +it. + +CASSIUS Will you sup with me tonight, Casca? + +CASCA No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS Will you dine with me tomorrow? + +CASCA Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your +dinner worth the eating. + +CASSIUS Good. I will expect you. + +CASCA Do so. Farewell both. [He exits.] + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you. +Tomorrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so. Till then, think of the world. +[Brutus exits.] +Well, Brutus, thou art noble. Yet I see +Thy honorable mettle may be wrought +From that it is disposed. Therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard, but he loves Brutus. +If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, +He should not humor me. I will this night +In several hands in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings, all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name, wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at +And after this, let Caesar seat him sure, +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Thunder and lightning. Enter Casca and Cicero.] + + +CICERO +Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? And why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam +To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds; +But never till tonight, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you anything more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave (you know him well by sight) +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches joined; and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched. +Besides (I ha' not since put up my sword), +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glazed upon me and went surly by +Without annoying me. And there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noonday upon the marketplace, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +"These are their reasons, they are natural," +For I believe they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time. +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Comes Caesar to the Capitol tomorrow? + +CASCA +He doth, for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there tomorrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca. This disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA Farewell, Cicero [Cicero exits.] + +[Enter Cassius.] + + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA A Roman. + +CASSIUS Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the Earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walked about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seemed to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze, +And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens. +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men, fools, and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance, +Their natures, and preformed faculties, +To monstrous quality--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol; +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown, +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean, is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is. For Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors. +But, woe the while, our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are governed with our mothers' spirits. +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the Senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king, +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land +In every place save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius. +Therein, you gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, you gods, you tyrants do defeat. +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. [Thunder still.] + +CASCA So can I. +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant, then? +Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep; +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws. What trash is Rome, +What rubbish, and what offal when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then, I know +My answer must be made. But I am armed, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering telltale. Hold. My hand. +[They shake hands.] +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honorable-dangerous consequence. +And I do know by this they stay for me +In Pompey's Porch. For now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favor 's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +[Enter Cinna.] + + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait. +He is a friend.--Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca, one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stayed for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS Am I not stayed for? Tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS, [handing him papers] +Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the Praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue. All this done, +Repair to Pompey's Porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber, and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's Theater. +[Cinna exits.] +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house. Three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts, +And that which would appear offense in us +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight, and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Brutus in his orchard.] + + +BRUTUS What, Lucius, ho!-- +I cannot by the progress of the stars +Give guess how near to day.--Lucius, I say!-- +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.-- +When, Lucius, when? Awake, I say! What, Lucius! + +[Enter Lucius.] + + +LUCIUS Called you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius. +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS I will, my lord. [He exits.] + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death. And for my part +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crowned: +How that might change his nature, there's the +question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, +And that craves wary walking. Crown him that, +And then I grant we put a sting in him +That at his will he may do danger with. +Th' abuse of greatness is when it disjoins +Remorse from power. And, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections swayed +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But, when he once attains the upmost round, +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And since the quarrel +Will bear no color for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus: that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities. +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg, +Which, hatched, would, as his kind, grow +mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +[Enter Lucius.] + + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus sealed up, and I am sure +It did not lie there when I went to bed. +[Gives him the letter.] + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again. It is not day. +Is not tomorrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS I will, sir. [He exits.] + +BRUTUS +The exhalations, whizzing in the air, +Give so much light that I may read by them. +[Opens the letter and reads.] + +Brutus, thou sleep'st. Awake, and see thyself! +Shall Rome, etc. Speak, strike, redress! +"Brutus, thou sleep'st. Awake." +Such instigations have been often dropped +Where I have took them up. +"Shall Rome, etc." Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, +Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive when he was called a king. +"Speak, strike, redress!" Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise, +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus. + +[Enter Lucius.] + + +LUCIUS Sir, March is wasted fifteen days. +[Knock within.] + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. +[Lucius exits.] +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma or a hideous dream. +The genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council, and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +[Enter Lucius.] + + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir. There are more with him. + +BRUTUS Do you know +them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir. Their hats are plucked about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favor. + +BRUTUS Let 'em enter. [Lucius exits.] +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Sham'st thou to show thy dang'rous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then, by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, +conspiracy. +Hide it in smiles and affability; +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +[Enter the conspirators, Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, +Metellus, and Trebonius.] + + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest. +Good morrow, Brutus. Do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them; and no man here +But honors you, and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS Shall I entreat a word? +[Brutus and Cassius whisper.] + +DECIUS +Here lies the east; doth not the day break here? + +CASCA No. + +CINNA +O pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence, up higher toward the +north +He first presents his fire, and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS, [coming forward with Cassius] +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath. If not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed. +So let high-sighted tyranny range on +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these-- +As I am sure they do--bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valor +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause +To prick us to redress? What other bond +Than secret Romans that have spoke the word +And will not palter? And what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged +That this shall be or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor th' insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath, when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath passed from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA No, by no means. + +METELLUS +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds. +It shall be said his judgment ruled our hands. +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not! Let us not break with him, +For he will never follow anything +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS Then leave him out. + +CASCA Indeed, he is not fit. + +DECIUS +Shall no man else be touched, but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged. I think it is not meet +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar. We shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all; which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar. +Let's be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar, +And in the spirit of men there is no blood. +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it. And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully. +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds. +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious; +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be called purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him, +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS Yet I fear him, +For in the engrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him. +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself: take thought and die for Caesar. +And that were much he should, for he is given +To sports, to wildness, and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him. Let him not die, +For he will live and laugh at this hereafter. +[Clock strikes.] + +BRUTUS +Peace, count the clock. + +CASSIUS The clock hath stricken +three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS But it is doubtful yet +Whether Caesar will come forth today or no, +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies. +It may be these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustomed terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers +May hold him from the Capitol today. + +DECIUS +Never fear that. If he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him, for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betrayed with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils, and men with flatterers. +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work, +For I can give his humor the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour, is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey. +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him. +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons. +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's. We'll leave you, +Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves, but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true +Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily. +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it, as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy. +And so good morrow to you every one. +[All but Brutus exit.] +Boy! Lucius!--Fast asleep? It is no matter. +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber. +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies +Which busy care draws in the brains of men. +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +[Enter Portia.] + + +PORTIA Brutus, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Portia! What mean you? Wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed. And yesternight at supper +You suddenly arose and walked about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I asked you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks. +I urged you further; then you scratched your head +And too impatiently stamped with your foot. +Yet I insisted; yet you answered not, +But with an angry wafture of your hand +Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did, +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seemed too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humor, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat nor talk nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevailed on your condition, +I should not know you Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? And is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humors +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus, +You have some sick offense within your mind, +Which by the right and virtue of my place +I ought to know of. [She kneels.] And upon my +knees +I charm you, by my once commended beauty, +By all your vows of love, and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, your self, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men tonight +Have had resort to you; for here have been +Some six or seven who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS Kneel not, gentle Portia. +[He lifts her up.] + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I your self +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the +suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honorable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart. + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman, but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife. +I grant I am a woman, but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so fathered and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels; I will not disclose 'em. +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh. Can I bear that with patience, +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS O you gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! [Knock.] +Hark, hark, one knocks. Portia, go in awhile, +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows. +Leave me with haste. [Portia exits.] +Lucius, who 's that knocks? + +[Enter Lucius and Ligarius.] + + +LUCIUS +Here is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spoke of.-- +Boy, stand aside. [Lucius exits.] +Caius Ligarius, how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honor. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness. +[He takes off his kerchief.] +Soul of Rome, +Brave son derived from honorable loins, +Thou like an exorcist hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible, +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you +To do I know not what; but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. [Thunder.] + +BRUTUS Follow me then. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Thunder and lightning. Enter Julius Caesar in his +nightgown.] + + +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor Earth have been at peace tonight. +Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out +"Help ho, they murder Caesar!"--Who's within? + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT My lord. + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, +And bring me their opinions of success. + +SERVANT I will, my lord. [He exits.] + +[Enter Calphurnia.] + + +CALPHURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? Think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house today. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth. The things that threatened me +Ne'er looked but on my back. When they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPHURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets, +And graves have yawned and yielded up their dead. +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol. +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar, these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth, for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPHURNIA +When beggars die there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of +princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, +It seems to me most strange that men should fear, +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +[Enter a Servant.] + +What say the augurers? + +SERVANT +They would not have you to stir forth today. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice. +Caesar should be a beast without a heart +If he should stay at home today for fear. +No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he. +We are two lions littered in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible. +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPHURNIA Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth today. Call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the Senate House, +And he shall say you are not well today. +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. [She kneels.] + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And for thy humor I will stay at home. +[He lifts her up.] + +[Enter Decius.] + +Here's Decius Brutus; he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS +Caesar, all hail! Good morrow, worthy Caesar. +I come to fetch you to the Senate House. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time +To bear my greeting to the Senators +And tell them that I will not come today. +Cannot is false, and that I dare not, falser. +I will not come today. Tell them so, Decius. + +CALPHURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far, +To be afeard to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will. I will not come. +That is enough to satisfy the Senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know. +Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home. +She dreamt tonight she saw my statue, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans +Came smiling and did bathe their hands in it. +And these does she apply for warnings and portents +And evils imminent, and on her knee +Hath begged that I will stay at home today. + +DECIUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted. +It was a vision fair and fortunate. +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance. +This by Calphurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say. +And know it now: the Senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be rendered, for someone to say +"Break up the Senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams." +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +"Lo, Caesar is afraid"? +Pardon me, Caesar, for my dear dear love +To your proceeding bids me tell you this, +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +[Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, Trebonius, +Cinna, and Publius.] + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR Welcome, Publius.-- +What, Brutus, are you stirred so early too?-- +Good morrow, Casca.--Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean.-- +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +[Enter Antony.] + +See, Antony that revels long a-nights +Is notwithstanding up.--Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR, [to Servant] Bid them prepare within.-- +I am to blame to be thus waited for. [Servant exits.] +Now, Cinna.--Now, Metellus.--What, Trebonius, +I have an hour's talk in store for you. +Remember that you call on me today; +Be near me that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will. [Aside.] And so near will I be +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in and taste some wine with me, +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS, [aside] +That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus earns to think upon. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Artemidorus reading a paper.] + + +ARTEMIDORUS Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heed of +Cassius, come not near Casca, have an eye to Cinna, +trust not Trebonius, mark well Metellus Cimber. +Decius Brutus loves thee not. Thou hast wronged +Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these +men, and it is bent against Caesar. If thou beest not +immortal, look about you. Security gives way to +conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! + Thy lover, +Artemidorus +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Portia and Lucius.] + + +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the Senate House. +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone. +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there and here again +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +[Aside.] O constancy, be strong upon my side; +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue. +I have a man's mind but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel!-- +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth. And take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy, what noise is that? + +LUCIUS I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA Prithee, listen well. +I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +[Enter the Soothsayer.] + + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow. Which way hast thou been? + +SOOTHSAYER At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA What is 't o'clock? + +SOOTHSAYER About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +SOOTHSAYER +Madam, not yet. I go to take my stand +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +SOOTHSAYER +That I have, lady. If it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards +him? + +SOOTHSAYER +None that I know will be, much that I fear may +chance. +Good morrow to you.--Here the street is narrow. +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death. +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. [He exits.] + +PORTIA +I must go in. [Aside.] Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure the boy heard me. [To Lucius.] Brutus hath a +suit +That Caesar will not grant. [Aside.] O, I grow +faint.-- +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord. +Say I am merry. Come to me again +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. +[They exit separately.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Caesar, Antony, Lepidus; Brutus, Cassius, +Casca, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna; Publius, +Popilius, Artemidorus, the Soothsayer, and other +Senators and Petitioners.] + + +CAESAR The ides of March are come. + +SOOTHSAYER Ay, Caesar, but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS Hail, Caesar. Read this schedule. + +DECIUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first, for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. +[Caesar goes forward, the rest following.] + +POPILIUS, [to Cassius] +I wish your enterprise today may thrive. + +CASSIUS What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS Fare you well. [He walks away.] + +BRUTUS What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wished today our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look how he makes to Caesar. Mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.-- +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS Cassius, be constant. +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes, +For look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time, for look you, Brutus, +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. +[Trebonius and Antony exit.] + +DECIUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is addressed. Press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his Senate must redress? + +METELLUS, [kneeling] +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart. + +CAESAR I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men +And turn preordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thawed from the true quality +With that which melteth fools--I mean sweet +words, +Low-crooked curtsies, and base spaniel fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished. +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know: Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banished brother? + +BRUTUS, [kneeling] +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar, +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus? + +CASSIUS, [kneeling] +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon! +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CAESAR +I could be well moved, if I were as you. +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me. +But I am constant as the Northern Star, +Of whose true fixed and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks; +They are all fire, and every one doth shine. +But there's but one in all doth hold his place. +So in the world: 'tis furnished well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive. +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion; and that I am he +Let me a little show it, even in this: +That I was constant Cimber should be banished +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA, [kneeling] +O Caesar-- + +CAESAR Hence. Wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS, [kneeling] +Great Caesar-- + +CAESAR Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA Speak, hands, for me! +[As Casca strikes, the others rise up and stab Caesar.] + +CAESAR Et tu, Brute?--Then fall, Caesar. +[He dies.] + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits and cry out +"Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement." + +BRUTUS +People and Senators, be not affrighted. +Fly not; stand still. Ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing.--Publius, good cheer. +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else. So tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius, lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so, and let no man abide this deed +But we the doers. +[All but the Conspirators exit.] + +[Enter Trebonius.] + + +CASSIUS Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS Fled to his house amazed. +Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS Fates, we will know your +pleasures. +That we shall die we know; 'tis but the time, +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASCA +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit. +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows and besmear our swords. +Then walk we forth, even to the marketplace, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry "Peace, freedom, and liberty!" + +CASSIUS +Stoop then, and wash. +[They smear their hands and swords with Caesar's blood.] +How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be called +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS Ay, every man away. +Brutus shall lead, and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +BRUTUS +Soft, who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +SERVANT, [kneeling] +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel. +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down, +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving. +Say, I love Brutus, and I honor him; +Say, I feared Caesar, honored him, and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living, but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman. +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied and, by my honor, +Depart untouched. + +SERVANT I'll fetch him presently. +[Servant exits.] + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may; but yet have I a mind +That fears him much, and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +[Enter Antony.] + + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony.--Welcome, Mark Antony! + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar, dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.-- +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank. +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death's hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech you, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfill your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die; +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us! +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As by our hands and this our present act +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done. +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome +(As fire drives out fire, so pity pity) +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony. +Our arms in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear; +And then we will deliver you the cause +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand. +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you.-- +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand.-- +Now, Decius Brutus, yours;--now yours, +Metellus;-- +Yours, Cinna;--and, my valiant Casca, yours;-- +Though last, not least in love, yours, good +Trebonius.-- +Gentlemen all--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer.-- +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true! +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death +To see thy Antony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes-- +Most noble!--in the presence of thy corpse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bayed, brave +hart, +Here didst thou fall, and here thy hunters stand +Signed in thy spoil and crimsoned in thy Lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart, +And this indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer strucken by many princes +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony-- + +ANTONY Pardon me, Caius Cassius. +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so. +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be pricked in number of our friends, +Or shall we on and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed +Swayed from the point by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle. +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY That's all I seek; +And am, moreover, suitor that I may +Produce his body to the marketplace, +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS Brutus, a word with you. +[Aside to Brutus.] You know not what you do. Do +not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral. +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS, [aside to Cassius] By your pardon, +I will myself into the pulpit first +And show the reason of our Caesar's death. +What Antony shall speak I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS, [aside to Brutus] +I know not what may fall. I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar +And say you do 't by our permission, +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral. And you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body, then, and follow us. +[All but Antony exit.] + +ANTONY +O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers. +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy +(Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue) +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quartered with the hands of war, +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds; +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war, +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men groaning for burial. + +[Enter Octavius' Servant.] + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +SERVANT I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +SERVANT +He did receive his letters and is coming, +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar! + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big. Get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching, for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +SERVANT +He lies tonight within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed and tell him what hath +chanced. +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet. +Hie hence and tell him so.--Yet stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corpse +Into the marketplace. There shall I try, +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men, +According to the which thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. +[They exit with Caesar's body.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Brutus and Cassius with the Plebeians.] + + +PLEBEIANS +We will be satisfied! Let us be satisfied! + +BRUTUS +Then follow me and give me audience, friends.-- +Cassius, go you into the other street +And part the numbers.-- +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN I will hear Brutus speak. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +I will hear Cassius, and compare their reasons +When severally we hear them rendered. +[Cassius exits with some of the Plebeians. +Brutus goes into the pulpit.] + +THIRD PLEBEIAN +The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence. + +BRUTUS Be patient till the last. +Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my +cause, and be silent that you may hear. Believe me +for mine honor, and have respect to mine honor +that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, +and awake your senses that you may the better +judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear +friend of Caesar's, to him I say that Brutus' love +to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend +demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my +answer: not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved +Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and +die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all +freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him. As he +was fortunate, I rejoice at it. As he was valiant, I +honor him. But, as he was ambitious, I slew him. +There is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor +for his valor, and death for his ambition. Who is +here so base that would be a bondman? If any, +speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so rude +that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him +have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not +love his country? If any, speak, for him have I +offended. I pause for a reply. + +PLEBEIANS None, Brutus, none. + +BRUTUS Then none have I offended. I have done no +more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The +question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol, his +glory not extenuated wherein he was worthy, nor +his offenses enforced for which he suffered death. + +[Enter Mark Antony and others with Caesar's body.] + +Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, +who, though he had no hand in his death, shall +receive the benefit of his dying--a place in the +commonwealth--as which of you shall not? With +this I depart: that, as I slew my best lover for the +good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself +when it shall please my country to need my death. + +PLEBEIANS Live, Brutus, live, live! + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +Bring him with triumph home unto his house. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +Give him a statue with his ancestors. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN +Let him be Caesar. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN Caesar's better parts +Shall be crowned in Brutus. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +We'll bring him to his house with shouts and +clamors. + +BRUTUS +My countrymen-- + +SECOND PLEBEIAN Peace, silence! Brutus speaks. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN Peace, ho! + +BRUTUS +Good countrymen, let me depart alone, +And, for my sake, stay here with Antony. +Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech +Tending to Caesar's glories, which Mark Antony +(By our permission) is allowed to make. +I do entreat you, not a man depart, +Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. +[He descends and exits.] + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +Stay, ho, and let us hear Mark Antony! + +THIRD PLEBEIAN +Let him go up into the public chair. + +PLEBEIANS +We'll hear him.--Noble Antony, go up. + +ANTONY +For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you. +[He goes into the pulpit.] + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN What does he say of Brutus? + +THIRD PLEBEIAN He says for Brutus' sake +He finds himself beholding to us all. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN +'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +This Caesar was a tyrant. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Nay, that's certain. +We are blest that Rome is rid of him. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +Peace, let us hear what Antony can say. + +ANTONY +You gentle Romans-- + +PLEBEIANS Peace, ho! Let us hear him. + +ANTONY +Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. +I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. +The evil that men do lives after them; +The good is oft interred with their bones. +So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus +Hath told you Caesar was ambitious. +If it were so, it was a grievous fault, +And grievously hath Caesar answered it. +Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest +(For Brutus is an honorable man; +So are they all, all honorable men), +Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. +He was my friend, faithful and just to me, +But Brutus says he was ambitious, +And Brutus is an honorable man. +He hath brought many captives home to Rome, +Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill. +Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? +When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; +Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. +Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, +And Brutus is an honorable man. +You all did see that on the Lupercal +I thrice presented him a kingly crown, +Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? +Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, +And sure he is an honorable man. +I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, +But here I am to speak what I do know. +You all did love him once, not without cause. +What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for +him?-- +O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, +And men have lost their reason!--Bear with me; +My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, +And I must pause till it come back to me. [He weeps.] + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +Methinks there is much reason in his sayings. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +If thou consider rightly of the matter, +Caesar has had great wrong. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Has he, masters? +I fear there will a worse come in his place. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN +Marked you his words? He would not take the +crown; +Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +If it be found so, some will dear abide it. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN +There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN +Now mark him. He begins again to speak. + +ANTONY +But yesterday the word of Caesar might +Have stood against the world. Now lies he there, +And none so poor to do him reverence. +O masters, if I were disposed to stir +Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, +I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong, +Who, you all know, are honorable men. +I will not do them wrong. I rather choose +To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, +Than I will wrong such honorable men. +But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar. +I found it in his closet. 'Tis his will. +Let but the commons hear this testament, +Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read, +And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds +And dip their napkins in his sacred blood-- +Yea, beg a hair of him for memory +And, dying, mention it within their wills, +Bequeathing it as a rich legacy +Unto their issue. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN +We'll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony. + +PLEBEIANS +The will, the will! We will hear Caesar's will. + +ANTONY +Have patience, gentle friends. I must not read it. +It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. +You are not wood, you are not stones, but men. +And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, +It will inflame you; it will make you mad. +'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs, +For if you should, O, what would come of it? + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN +Read the will! We'll hear it, Antony. + +PLEBEIANS +You shall read us the will, Caesar's will. + +ANTONY +Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile? +I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it. +I fear I wrong the honorable men +Whose daggers have stabbed Caesar. I do fear it. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN They were traitors. Honorable men? + +PLEBEIANS The will! The testament! + +SECOND PLEBEIAN They were villains, murderers. The +will! Read the will. + +ANTONY +You will compel me, then, to read the will? +Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, +And let me show you him that made the will. +Shall I descend? And will you give me leave? + +PLEBEIANS Come down. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN Descend. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN You shall have leave. +[Antony descends.] + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN A ring; stand round. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +Stand from the hearse. Stand from the body. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +Room for Antony, most noble Antony. + +ANTONY +Nay, press not so upon me. Stand far off. + +PLEBEIANS Stand back! Room! Bear back! + +ANTONY +If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. +You all do know this mantle. I remember +The first time ever Caesar put it on. +'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent, +That day he overcame the Nervii. +Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through. +See what a rent the envious Casca made. +Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed, +And, as he plucked his cursed steel away, +Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it, +As rushing out of doors to be resolved +If Brutus so unkindly knocked or no; +For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel. +Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! +This was the most unkindest cut of all. +For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, +Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, +Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart, +And, in his mantle muffling up his face, +Even at the base of Pompey's statue +(Which all the while ran blood) great Caesar fell. +O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! +Then I and you and all of us fell down, +Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. +O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel +The dint of pity. These are gracious drops. +Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold +Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here, +[Antony lifts Caesar's cloak.] +Here is himself, marred as you see with traitors. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN O piteous spectacle! + +SECOND PLEBEIAN O noble Caesar! + +THIRD PLEBEIAN O woeful day! + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN O traitors, villains! + +FIRST PLEBEIAN O most bloody sight! + +SECOND PLEBEIAN We will be revenged. + +PLEBEIANS Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! +Slay! Let not a traitor live! + +ANTONY Stay, countrymen. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN Peace there! Hear the noble Antony. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN We'll hear him, we'll follow him, +we'll die with him. + +ANTONY +Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up +To such a sudden flood of mutiny. +They that have done this deed are honorable. +What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, +That made them do it. They are wise and honorable +And will no doubt with reasons answer you. +I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. +I am no orator, as Brutus is, +But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man +That love my friend, and that they know full well +That gave me public leave to speak of him. +For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, +Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech +To stir men's blood. I only speak right on. +I tell you that which you yourselves do know, +Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb +mouths, +And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, +And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony +Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue +In every wound of Caesar that should move +The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. + +PLEBEIANS +We'll mutiny. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN We'll burn the house of Brutus. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN +Away then. Come, seek the conspirators. + +ANTONY +Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak. + +PLEBEIANS +Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony! + +ANTONY +Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. +Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? +Alas, you know not. I must tell you then. +You have forgot the will I told you of. + +PLEBEIANS +Most true. The will! Let's stay and hear the will. + +ANTONY +Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal: +To every Roman citizen he gives, +To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN +Most noble Caesar! We'll revenge his death. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN O royal Caesar! + +ANTONY Hear me with patience. + +PLEBEIANS Peace, ho! + +ANTONY +Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, +His private arbors, and new-planted orchards, +On this side Tiber. He hath left them you, +And to your heirs forever--common pleasures +To walk abroad and recreate yourselves. +Here was a Caesar! When comes such another? + +FIRST PLEBEIAN +Never, never!--Come, away, away! +We'll burn his body in the holy place +And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. +Take up the body. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN Go fetch fire. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Pluck down benches. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN Pluck down forms, windows, +anything. +[Plebeians exit with Caesar's body.] + +ANTONY +Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot; +Take thou what course thou wilt. + +[Enter Servant.] + +How now, fellow? + +SERVANT +Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome. + +ANTONY Where is he? + +SERVANT +He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house. + +ANTONY +And thither will I straight to visit him. +He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry +And in this mood will give us anything. + +SERVANT +I heard him say Brutus and Cassius +Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome. + +ANTONY +Belike they had some notice of the people +How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cinna the poet and after him the Plebeians.] + + +CINNA +I dreamt tonight that I did feast with Caesar, +And things unluckily charge my fantasy. +I have no will to wander forth of doors, +Yet something leads me forth. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN What is your name? + +SECOND PLEBEIAN Whither are you going? + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Where do you dwell? + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN Are you a married man or a +bachelor? + +SECOND PLEBEIAN Answer every man directly. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN Ay, and briefly. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN Ay, and wisely. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Ay, and truly, you were best. + +CINNA What is my name? Whither am I going? Where +do I dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? +Then to answer every man directly and briefly, +wisely and truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN That's as much as to say they are +fools that marry. You'll bear me a bang for that, I +fear. Proceed directly. + +CINNA Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN As a friend or an enemy? + +CINNA As a friend. + +SECOND PLEBEIAN That matter is answered directly. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN For your dwelling--briefly. + +CINNA Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Your name, sir, truly. + +CINNA Truly, my name is Cinna. + +FIRST PLEBEIAN Tear him to pieces! He's a conspirator. + +CINNA I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet! + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN Tear him for his bad verses, tear him +for his bad verses! + +CINNA I am not Cinna the conspirator. + +FOURTH PLEBEIAN It is no matter. His name's Cinna. +Pluck but his name out of his heart, and turn him +going. + +THIRD PLEBEIAN Tear him, tear him! Come, brands, ho, +firebrands! To Brutus', to Cassius', burn all! Some +to Decius' house, and some to Casca's, some to +Ligarius'. Away, go! +[All the Plebeians exit, carrying off Cinna.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus.] + + +ANTONY +These many, then, shall die; their names are +pricked. + +OCTAVIUS +Your brother too must die. Consent you, Lepidus? + +LEPIDUS +I do consent. + +OCTAVIUS Prick him down, Antony. + +LEPIDUS +Upon condition Publius shall not live, +Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him. +But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house; +Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine +How to cut off some charge in legacies. + +LEPIDUS What, shall I find you here? + +OCTAVIUS Or here, or at the Capitol. [Lepidus exits.] + +ANTONY +This is a slight, unmeritable man, +Meet to be sent on errands. Is it fit, +The threefold world divided, he should stand +One of the three to share it? + +OCTAVIUS So you thought him +And took his voice who should be pricked to die +In our black sentence and proscription. + +ANTONY +Octavius, I have seen more days than you, +And, though we lay these honors on this man +To ease ourselves of diverse sland'rous loads, +He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, +To groan and sweat under the business, +Either led or driven, as we point the way; +And having brought our treasure where we will, +Then take we down his load and turn him off +(Like to the empty ass) to shake his ears +And graze in commons. + +OCTAVIUS You may do your will, +But he's a tried and valiant soldier. + +ANTONY +So is my horse, Octavius, and for that +I do appoint him store of provender. +It is a creature that I teach to fight, +To wind, to stop, to run directly on, +His corporal motion governed by my spirit; +And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so. +He must be taught and trained and bid go forth-- +A barren-spirited fellow, one that feeds +On objects, arts, and imitations +Which, out of use and staled by other men, +Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him +But as a property. And now, Octavius, +Listen great things. Brutus and Cassius +Are levying powers. We must straight make head. +Therefore let our alliance be combined, +Our best friends made, our means stretched; +And let us presently go sit in council +How covert matters may be best disclosed +And open perils surest answered. + +OCTAVIUS +Let us do so, for we are at the stake +And bayed about with many enemies, +And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, +Millions of mischiefs. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Drum. Enter Brutus, Lucilius, Lucius, and the Army. +Titinius and Pindarus meet them.] + + +BRUTUS Stand ho! + +LUCILIUS Give the word, ho, and stand! + +BRUTUS +What now, Lucilius, is Cassius near? + +LUCILIUS +He is at hand, and Pindarus is come +To do you salutation from his master. + +BRUTUS +He greets me well.--Your master, Pindarus, +In his own change or by ill officers, +Hath given me some worthy cause to wish +Things done undone, but if he be at hand +I shall be satisfied. + +PINDARUS I do not doubt +But that my noble master will appear +Such as he is, full of regard and honor. + +BRUTUS +He is not doubted. [Brutus and Lucilius walk aside.] +A word, Lucilius, +How he received you. Let me be resolved. + +LUCILIUS +With courtesy and with respect enough, +But not with such familiar instances +Nor with such free and friendly conference +As he hath used of old. + +BRUTUS Thou hast described +A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius, +When love begins to sicken and decay +It useth an enforced ceremony. +There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; +But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, +Make gallant show and promise of their mettle, +[Low march within.] +But when they should endure the bloody spur, +They fall their crests and, like deceitful jades, +Sink in the trial. Comes his army on? + +LUCILIUS +They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered. +The greater part, the horse in general, +Are come with Cassius. + +[Enter Cassius and his powers.] + + +BRUTUS Hark, he is arrived. +March gently on to meet him. + +CASSIUS Stand ho! + +BRUTUS Stand ho! Speak the word along. + +FIRST SOLDIER Stand! + +SECOND SOLDIER Stand! + +THIRD SOLDIER Stand! + +CASSIUS +Most noble brother, you have done me wrong. + +BRUTUS +Judge me, you gods! Wrong I mine enemies? +And if not so, how should I wrong a brother? + +CASSIUS +Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs, +And when you do them-- + +BRUTUS Cassius, be content. +Speak your griefs softly. I do know you well. +Before the eyes of both our armies here +(Which should perceive nothing but love from us), +Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away. +Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs, +And I will give you audience. + +CASSIUS Pindarus, +Bid our commanders lead their charges off +A little from this ground. + +BRUTUS +Lucius, do you the like, and let no man +Come to our tent till we have done our conference. +Let Lucilius and Titinius guard our door. +[All but Brutus and Cassius exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= + +CASSIUS +That you have wronged me doth appear in this: +You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella +For taking bribes here of the Sardians, +Wherein my letters, praying on his side +Because I knew the man, was slighted off. + +BRUTUS +You wronged yourself to write in such a case. + +CASSIUS +In such a time as this it is not meet +That every nice offense should bear his comment. + +BRUTUS +Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself +Are much condemned to have an itching palm, +To sell and mart your offices for gold +To undeservers. + +CASSIUS I an itching palm? +You know that you are Brutus that speaks this, +Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. + +BRUTUS +The name of Cassius honors this corruption, +And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. + +CASSIUS Chastisement? + +BRUTUS +Remember March; the ides of March remember. +Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? +What villain touched his body that did stab +And not for justice? What, shall one of us +That struck the foremost man of all this world +But for supporting robbers, shall we now +Contaminate our fingers with base bribes +And sell the mighty space of our large honors +For so much trash as may be grasped thus? +I had rather be a dog and bay the moon +Than such a Roman. + +CASSIUS Brutus, bait not me. +I'll not endure it. You forget yourself +To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I, +Older in practice, abler than yourself +To make conditions. + +BRUTUS Go to! You are not, Cassius. + +CASSIUS I am. + +BRUTUS I say you are not. + +CASSIUS +Urge me no more. I shall forget myself. +Have mind upon your health. Tempt me no farther. + +BRUTUS Away, slight man! + +CASSIUS +Is 't possible? + +BRUTUS Hear me, for I will speak. +Must I give way and room to your rash choler? +Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? + +CASSIUS +O you gods, you gods, must I endure all this? + +BRUTUS +All this? Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break. +Go show your slaves how choleric you are +And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? +Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch +Under your testy humor? By the gods, +You shall digest the venom of your spleen +Though it do split you. For, from this day forth, +I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, +When you are waspish. + +CASSIUS Is it come to this? + +BRUTUS +You say you are a better soldier. +Let it appear so, make your vaunting true, +And it shall please me well. For mine own part, +I shall be glad to learn of noble men. + +CASSIUS +You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus. +I said an elder soldier, not a better. +Did I say "better"? + +BRUTUS If you did, I care not. + +CASSIUS +When Caesar lived he durst not thus have moved +me. + +BRUTUS +Peace, peace! You durst not so have tempted him. + +CASSIUS I durst not? + +BRUTUS No. + +CASSIUS +What? Durst not tempt him? + +BRUTUS For your life you durst +not. + +CASSIUS +Do not presume too much upon my love. +I may do that I shall be sorry for. + +BRUTUS +You have done that you should be sorry for. +There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, +For I am armed so strong in honesty +That they pass by me as the idle wind, +Which I respect not. I did send to you +For certain sums of gold, which you denied me, +For I can raise no money by vile means. +By heaven, I had rather coin my heart +And drop my blood for drachmas than to wring +From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash +By any indirection. I did send +To you for gold to pay my legions, +Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius? +Should I have answered Caius Cassius so? +When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous +To lock such rascal counters from his friends, +Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts; +Dash him to pieces! + +CASSIUS I denied you not. + +BRUTUS You did. + +CASSIUS +I did not. He was but a fool that brought +My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart. +A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, +But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. + +BRUTUS +I do not, till you practice them on me. + +CASSIUS +You love me not. + +BRUTUS I do not like your faults. + +CASSIUS +A friendly eye could never see such faults. + +BRUTUS +A flatterer's would not, though they do appear +As huge as high Olympus. + +CASSIUS +Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come! +Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, +For Cassius is aweary of the world-- +Hated by one he loves, braved by his brother, +Checked like a bondman, all his faults observed, +Set in a notebook, learned and conned by rote +To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep +My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, +[Offering his dagger to Brutus.] +And here my naked breast; within, a heart +Dearer than Pluto's mine, richer than gold. +If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth. +I that denied thee gold will give my heart. +Strike as thou didst at Caesar, for I know +When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him +better +Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. + +BRUTUS Sheathe your +dagger. +Be angry when you will, it shall have scope. +Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. +O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb +That carries anger as the flint bears fire, +Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark +And straight is cold again. + +CASSIUS Hath Cassius lived +To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus +When grief and blood ill-tempered vexeth him? + +BRUTUS +When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. + +CASSIUS +Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. + +BRUTUS +And my heart too. [They clasp hands.] + +CASSIUS O Brutus! + +BRUTUS What's the matter? + +CASSIUS +Have not you love enough to bear with me +When that rash humor which my mother gave me +Makes me forgetful? + +BRUTUS Yes, Cassius, and from +henceforth +When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, +He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. + +[Enter a Poet followed by Lucilius, Titinius, and Lucius.] + + +POET +Let me go in to see the Generals. +There is some grudge between 'em; 'tis not meet +They be alone. + +LUCILIUS You shall not come to them. + +POET Nothing but death shall stay me. + +CASSIUS How now, what's the matter? + +POET +For shame, you generals, what do you mean? +Love and be friends as two such men should be, +For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye. + +CASSIUS +Ha, ha, how vilely doth this cynic rhyme! + +BRUTUS +Get you hence, sirrah! Saucy fellow, hence! + +CASSIUS +Bear with him, Brutus. 'Tis his fashion. + +BRUTUS +I'll know his humor when he knows his time. +What should the wars do with these jigging fools?-- +Companion, hence! + +CASSIUS Away, away, be gone! [Poet exits.] + +BRUTUS +Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders +Prepare to lodge their companies tonight. + +CASSIUS +And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you +Immediately to us. [Lucilius and Titinius exit.] + +BRUTUS Lucius, a bowl of wine. [Lucius exits.] + +CASSIUS +I did not think you could have been so angry. + +BRUTUS +O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. + +CASSIUS +Of your philosophy you make no use +If you give place to accidental evils. + +BRUTUS +No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead. + +CASSIUS Ha? Portia? + +BRUTUS She is dead. + +CASSIUS +How 'scaped I killing when I crossed you so? +O insupportable and touching loss! +Upon what sickness? + +BRUTUS Impatient of my absence, +And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony +Have made themselves so strong--for with her +death +That tidings came--with this she fell distract +And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. + +CASSIUS And died so? + +BRUTUS Even so. + +CASSIUS O you immortal gods! + +[Enter Lucius with wine and tapers.] + + +BRUTUS +Speak no more of her.--Give me a bowl of wine.-- +In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. [He drinks.] + +CASSIUS +My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.-- +Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup; +I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. [He drinks.] +[Lucius exits.] + +[Enter Titinius and Messala.] + + +BRUTUS +Come in, Titinius. Welcome, good Messala. +Now sit we close about this taper here, +And call in question our necessities. [They sit.] + +CASSIUS +Portia, art thou gone? + +BRUTUS No more, I pray you.-- +Messala, I have here received letters +That young Octavius and Mark Antony +Come down upon us with a mighty power, +Bending their expedition toward Philippi. + +MESSALA +Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor. + +BRUTUS With what addition? + +MESSALA +That by proscription and bills of outlawry, +Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus +Have put to death an hundred senators. + +BRUTUS +Therein our letters do not well agree. +Mine speak of seventy senators that died +By their proscriptions, Cicero being one. + +CASSIUS +Cicero one? + +MESSALA Cicero is dead, +And by that order of proscription. +Had you your letters from your wife, my lord? + +BRUTUS No, Messala. + +MESSALA +Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? + +BRUTUSNothing, Messala. + +MESSALA That methinks is strange. + +BRUTUS +Why ask you? Hear you aught of her in yours? + +MESSALA No, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. + +MESSALA +Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell, +For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. + +BRUTUS +Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala. +With meditating that she must die once, +I have the patience to endure it now. + +MESSALA +Even so great men great losses should endure. + +CASSIUS +I have as much of this in art as you, +But yet my nature could not bear it so. + +BRUTUS +Well, to our work alive. What do you think +Of marching to Philippi presently? + +CASSIUS I do not think it good. + +BRUTUS Your reason? + +CASSIUS This it is: +'Tis better that the enemy seek us; +So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, +Doing himself offense, whilst we, lying still, +Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness. + +BRUTUS +Good reasons must of force give place to better. +The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground +Do stand but in a forced affection, +For they have grudged us contribution. +The enemy, marching along by them, +By them shall make a fuller number up, +Come on refreshed, new-added, and encouraged, +From which advantage shall we cut him off +If at Philippi we do face him there, +These people at our back. + +CASSIUS Hear me, good brother-- + +BRUTUS +Under your pardon. You must note besides +That we have tried the utmost of our friends, +Our legions are brim full, our cause is ripe. +The enemy increaseth every day; +We, at the height, are ready to decline. +There is a tide in the affairs of men +Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; +Omitted, all the voyage of their life +Is bound in shallows and in miseries. +On such a full sea are we now afloat, +And we must take the current when it serves +Or lose our ventures. + +CASSIUS Then, with your will, go on; +We'll along ourselves and meet them at Philippi. + +BRUTUS +The deep of night is crept upon our talk, +And nature must obey necessity, +Which we will niggard with a little rest. +There is no more to say. + +CASSIUS No more. Good night. +[They stand.] +Early tomorrow will we rise and hence. + +BRUTUS +Lucius. + +[Enter Lucius.] + +My gown. [Lucius exits.] +Farewell, good Messala.-- +Good night, Titinius.--Noble, noble Cassius, +Good night and good repose. + +CASSIUS O my dear brother, +This was an ill beginning of the night. +Never come such division 'tween our souls! +Let it not, Brutus. + +[Enter Lucius with the gown.] + + +BRUTUS Everything is well. + +CASSIUS Good night, my lord. + +BRUTUS Good night, good brother. + +TITINIUS/MESSALA +Good night, Lord Brutus. + +BRUTUS Farewell, everyone. +[All but Brutus and Lucius exit.] +Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument? + +LUCIUS +Here in the tent. + +BRUTUS What, thou speak'st drowsily? +Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'erwatched. +Call Claudius and some other of my men; +I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent. + +LUCIUS Varro and Claudius. + +[Enter Varro and Claudius.] + + +VARRO Calls my lord? + +BRUTUS +I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep. +It may be I shall raise you by and by +On business to my brother Cassius. + +VARRO +So please you, we will stand and watch your +pleasure. + +BRUTUS +I will not have it so. Lie down, good sirs. +It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. +[They lie down.] +Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so. +I put it in the pocket of my gown. + +LUCIUS +I was sure your Lordship did not give it me. + +BRUTUS +Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. +Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile +And touch thy instrument a strain or two? + +LUCIUS +Ay, my lord, an 't please you. + +BRUTUS It does, my boy. +I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. + +LUCIUS It is my duty, sir. + +BRUTUS +I should not urge thy duty past thy might. +I know young bloods look for a time of rest. + +LUCIUS I have slept, my lord, already. + +BRUTUS +It was well done, and thou shalt sleep again. +I will not hold thee long. If I do live, +I will be good to thee. +[Music and a song. Lucius then falls asleep.] +This is a sleepy tune. O murd'rous slumber, +Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, +That plays thee music?--Gentle knave, good night. +I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. +If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument. +I'll take it from thee and, good boy, good night. +[He moves the instrument.] +Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turned down +Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. +How ill this taper burns. + +[Enter the Ghost of Caesar.] + +Ha, who comes here?-- +I think it is the weakness of mine eyes +That shapes this monstrous apparition. +It comes upon me.--Art thou any thing? +Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, +That mak'st my blood cold and my hair to stare? +Speak to me what thou art. + +GHOST +Thy evil spirit, Brutus. + +BRUTUS Why com'st thou? + +GHOST +To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. + +BRUTUS Well, then I shall see thee again? + +GHOST Ay, at Philippi. + +BRUTUS +Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. [Ghost exits.] +Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest. +Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.-- +Boy, Lucius!--Varro, Claudius, sirs, awake! +Claudius! + +LUCIUS The strings, my lord, are false. + +BRUTUS +He thinks he still is at his instrument. +Lucius, awake! + +LUCIUS My lord? + +BRUTUS +Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out? + +LUCIUS +My lord, I do not know that I did cry. + +BRUTUS +Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything? + +LUCIUS Nothing, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Sleep again, Lucius.--Sirrah Claudius! +[To Varro.] Fellow thou, awake! [They rise up.] + +VARRO My lord? + +CLAUDIUS My lord? + +BRUTUS +Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep? + +BOTH +Did we, my lord? + +BRUTUS Ay. Saw you anything? + +VARRO No, my lord, I saw nothing. + +CLAUDIUS Nor I, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Go and commend me to my brother Cassius. +Bid him set on his powers betimes before, +And we will follow. + +BOTH It shall be done, my lord. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Octavius, Antony, and their army.] + + +OCTAVIUS +Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. +You said the enemy would not come down +But keep the hills and upper regions. +It proves not so; their battles are at hand. +They mean to warn us at Philippi here, +Answering before we do demand of them. + +ANTONY +Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know +Wherefore they do it. They could be content +To visit other places, and come down +With fearful bravery, thinking by this face +To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage. +But 'tis not so. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER Prepare you, generals. +The enemy comes on in gallant show. +Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, +And something to be done immediately. + +ANTONY +Octavius, lead your battle softly on +Upon the left hand of the even field. + +OCTAVIUS +Upon the right hand, I; keep thou the left. + +ANTONY +Why do you cross me in this exigent? + +OCTAVIUS +I do not cross you, but I will do so. [March.] + +[Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their army including +Lucilius, Titinius, and Messala.] + + +BRUTUS They stand and would have parley. + +CASSIUS +Stand fast, Titinius. We must out and talk. + +OCTAVIUS +Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? + +ANTONY +No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge. +Make forth. The Generals would have some words. + +OCTAVIUS, [to his Officers] Stir not until the signal. +[The Generals step forward.] + +BRUTUS +Words before blows; is it so, countrymen? + +OCTAVIUS +Not that we love words better, as you do. + +BRUTUS +Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. + +ANTONY +In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words. +Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart, +Crying "Long live, hail, Caesar!" + +CASSIUS Antony, +The posture of your blows are yet unknown, +But, for your words, they rob the Hybla bees +And leave them honeyless. + +ANTONY Not stingless too. + +BRUTUS O yes, and soundless too, +For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, +And very wisely threat before you sting. + +ANTONY +Villains, you did not so when your vile daggers +Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar. +You showed your teeth like apes and fawned like +hounds +And bowed like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet, +Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind +Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers! + +CASSIUS +Flatterers?--Now, Brutus, thank yourself! +This tongue had not offended so today +If Cassius might have ruled. + +OCTAVIUS +Come, come, the cause. If arguing make us sweat, +The proof of it will turn to redder drops. +Look, I draw a sword against conspirators; +[He draws.] +When think you that the sword goes up again? +Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds +Be well avenged, or till another Caesar +Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. + +BRUTUS +Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands +Unless thou bring'st them with thee. + +OCTAVIUS So I hope. +I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. + +BRUTUS +O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, +Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable. + +CASSIUS +A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honor, +Joined with a masker and a reveler! + +ANTONY +Old Cassius still. + +OCTAVIUS Come, Antony, away!-- +Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth. +If you dare fight today, come to the field; +If not, when you have stomachs. +[Octavius, Antony, and their army exit.] + +CASSIUS +Why now, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark! +The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. + +BRUTUS +Ho, Lucilius, hark, a word with you. +[Lucilius and Messala stand forth.] + +LUCILIUS My lord? +[Brutus and Lucilius step aside together.] + +CASSIUS +Messala. + +MESSALA What says my general? + +CASSIUS Messala, +This is my birthday, as this very day +Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala. +Be thou my witness that against my will +(As Pompey was) am I compelled to set +Upon one battle all our liberties. +You know that I held Epicurus strong +And his opinion. Now I change my mind +And partly credit things that do presage. +Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign +Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched, +Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands, +Who to Philippi here consorted us. +This morning are they fled away and gone, +And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites +Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us +As we were sickly prey. Their shadows seem +A canopy most fatal, under which +Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. + +MESSALA +Believe not so. + +CASSIUS I but believe it partly, +For I am fresh of spirit and resolved +To meet all perils very constantly. + +BRUTUS +Even so, Lucilius. [Brutus returns to Cassius.] + +CASSIUS Now, most noble Brutus, +The gods today stand friendly that we may, +Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age. +But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, +Let's reason with the worst that may befall. +If we do lose this battle, then is this +The very last time we shall speak together. +What are you then determined to do? + +BRUTUS +Even by the rule of that philosophy +By which I did blame Cato for the death +Which he did give himself (I know not how, +But I do find it cowardly and vile, +For fear of what might fall, so to prevent +The time of life), arming myself with patience +To stay the providence of some high powers +That govern us below. + +CASSIUS Then, if we lose this battle, +You are contented to be led in triumph +Thorough the streets of Rome? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius, no. Think not, thou noble Roman, +That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome. +He bears too great a mind. But this same day +Must end that work the ides of March begun. +And whether we shall meet again, I know not. +Therefore our everlasting farewell take. +Forever and forever farewell, Cassius. +If we do meet again, why we shall smile; +If not, why then this parting was well made. + +CASSIUS +Forever and forever farewell, Brutus. +If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; +If not, 'tis true this parting was well made. + +BRUTUS +Why then, lead on.--O, that a man might know +The end of this day's business ere it come! +But it sufficeth that the day will end, +And then the end is known.--Come ho, away! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Brutus and Messala.] + + +BRUTUS +Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills +Unto the legions on the other side! +[He hands Messala papers.] +[Loud alarum.] +Let them set on at once, for I perceive +But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing, +And sudden push gives them the overthrow. +Ride, ride, Messala! Let them all come down. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarums. Enter Cassius carrying a standard and +Titinius.] + + +CASSIUS +O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly! +Myself have to mine own turned enemy. +This ensign here of mine was turning back; +I slew the coward and did take it from him. + +TITINIUS +O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early, +Who, having some advantage on Octavius, +Took it too eagerly. His soldiers fell to spoil, +Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed. + +[Enter Pindarus.] + + +PINDARUS +Fly further off, my lord, fly further off! +Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord. +Fly therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off. + +CASSIUS +This hill is far enough.--Look, look, Titinius, +Are those my tents where I perceive the fire? + +TITINIUS +They are, my lord. + +CASSIUS Titinius, if thou lovest me, +Mount thou my horse and hide thy spurs in him +Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops +And here again, that I may rest assured +Whether yond troops are friend or enemy. + +TITINIUS +I will be here again even with a thought. [He exits.] + +CASSIUS +Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill. +My sight was ever thick. Regard Titinius +And tell me what thou not'st about the field. +[Pindarus goes up.] +This day I breathed first. Time is come round, +And where I did begin, there shall I end; +My life is run his compass.--Sirrah, what news? + +PINDARUS, [above.] O my lord! + +CASSIUS What news? + +PINDARUS +Titinius is enclosed round about +With horsemen that make to him on the spur, +Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him. +Now Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too. +He's ta'en. [Shout.] +And hark, they shout for joy. + +CASSIUS Come down, behold no more.-- +O, coward that I am to live so long +To see my best friend ta'en before my face! +[Pindarus comes down.] +Come hither, sirrah. +In Parthia did I take thee prisoner, +And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, +That whatsoever I did bid thee do +Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine +oath. +Now be a freeman, and with this good sword, +That ran through Caesar's bowels, search this +bosom. +Stand not to answer. Here, take thou the hilts, +And, when my face is covered, as 'tis now, +Guide thou the sword. [Pindarus stabs him.] +Caesar, thou art revenged +Even with the sword that killed thee. [He dies.] + +PINDARUS +So I am free, yet would not so have been, +Durst I have done my will.--O Cassius!-- +Far from this country Pindarus shall run, +Where never Roman shall take note of him. +[He exits.] + +[Enter Titinius and Messala.] + + +MESSALA +It is but change, Titinius, for Octavius +Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, +As Cassius' legions are by Antony. + +TITINIUS +These tidings will well comfort Cassius. + +MESSALA +Where did you leave him? + +TITINIUS All disconsolate, +With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill. + +MESSALA +Is not that he that lies upon the ground? + +TITINIUS +He lies not like the living. O my heart! + +MESSALA +Is not that he? + +TITINIUS No, this was he, Messala, +But Cassius is no more. O setting sun, +As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night, +So in his red blood Cassius' day is set. +The sun of Rome is set. Our day is gone; +Clouds, dews, and dangers come. Our deeds are +done. +Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. + +MESSALA +Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. +O hateful error, melancholy's child, +Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men +The things that are not? O error, soon conceived, +Thou never com'st unto a happy birth +But kill'st the mother that engendered thee! + +TITINIUS +What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus? + +MESSALA +Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet +The noble Brutus, thrusting this report +Into his ears. I may say "thrusting it," +For piercing steel and darts envenomed +Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus +As tidings of this sight. + +TITINIUS Hie you, Messala, +And I will seek for Pindarus the while. +[Messala exits.] +Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius? +Did I not meet thy friends, and did not they +Put on my brows this wreath of victory +And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their +shouts? +Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything. +But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow. +[Laying the garland on Cassius' brow.] +Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I +Will do his bidding.--Brutus, come apace, +And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.-- +By your leave, gods, this is a Roman's part. +Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart! +[He dies on Cassius' sword.] + +[Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, young Cato, Strato, +Volumnius, and Lucilius, Labeo, and Flavius.] + + +BRUTUS +Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie? + +MESSALA +Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it. + +BRUTUS +Titinius' face is upward. + +CATO He is slain. + +BRUTUS +O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet; +Thy spirit walks abroad and turns our swords +In our own proper entrails. [Low alarums.] + +CATO Brave Titinius!-- +Look whe'er he have not crowned dead Cassius. + +BRUTUS +Are yet two Romans living such as these?-- +The last of all the Romans, fare thee well. +It is impossible that ever Rome +Should breed thy fellow.--Friends, I owe more +tears +To this dead man than you shall see me pay.-- +I shall find time, Cassius; I shall find time.-- +Come, therefore, and to Thasos send his body. +His funerals shall not be in our camp, +Lest it discomfort us.--Lucilius, come.-- +And come, young Cato. Let us to the field.-- +Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on. +'Tis three o'clock, and, Romans, yet ere night +We shall try fortune in a second fight. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Brutus, Messala, Cato, Lucilius, and +Flavius.] + + +BRUTUS +Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads! +[Brutus, Messala, and Flavius exit.] + +CATO +What bastard doth not? Who will go with me? +I will proclaim my name about the field. +I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! +A foe to tyrants and my country's friend. +I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! + +[Enter Soldiers and fight.] + + +LUCILIUS +And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I! +Brutus, my country's friend! Know me for Brutus. +[Cato is killed.] +O young and noble Cato, art thou down? +Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius +And mayst be honored, being Cato's son. + +FIRST SOLDIER, [seizing Lucilius] +Yield, or thou diest. + +LUCILIUS Only I yield to die. +There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight. +[Offering money.] +Kill Brutus and be honored in his death. + +FIRST SOLDIER +We must not. A noble prisoner! + +[Enter Antony.] + + +SECOND SOLDIER +Room, ho! Tell Antony Brutus is ta'en. + +FIRST SOLDIER +I'll tell the news. Here comes the General.-- +Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord. + +ANTONY Where is he? + +LUCILIUS +Safe, Antony, Brutus is safe enough. +I dare assure thee that no enemy +Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus. +The gods defend him from so great a shame! +When you do find him, or alive or dead, +He will be found like Brutus, like himself. + +ANTONY +This is not Brutus, friend, but I assure you, +A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe. +Give him all kindness. I had rather have +Such men my friends than enemies. Go on, +And see whe'er Brutus be alive or dead, +And bring us word unto Octavius' tent +How everything is chanced. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Brutus, Dardanus, Clitus, Strato, and Volumnius.] + + +BRUTUS +Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. +[He sits down.] + +CLITUS +Statilius showed the torchlight, but, my lord, +He came not back. He is or ta'en or slain. + +BRUTUS +Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word; +It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. +[He whispers to Clitus.] + +CLITUS +What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. + +BRUTUS +Peace, then, no words. + +CLITUS I'll rather kill myself. + +BRUTUS +Hark thee, Dardanus. [He whispers to Dardanus.] + +DARDANUS Shall I do such a deed? + +CLITUS O Dardanus! + +DARDANUS O Clitus! +[Dardanus and Clitus step aside.] + +CLITUS +What ill request did Brutus make to thee? + +DARDANUS +To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. + +CLITUS +Now is that noble vessel full of grief, +That it runs over even at his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Come hither, good Volumnius. List a word. + +VOLUMNIUS +What says my lord? + +BRUTUS Why this, Volumnius: +The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me +Two several times by night--at Sardis once +And this last night here in Philippi fields. +I know my hour is come. + +VOLUMNIUS Not so, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. +Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes. +Our enemies have beat us to the pit. [Low alarums.] +It is more worthy to leap in ourselves +Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, +Thou know'st that we two went to school together; +Even for that our love of old, I prithee, +Hold thou my sword hilts whilst I run on it. + +VOLUMNIUS +That's not an office for a friend, my lord. +[Alarum continues.] + +CLITUS +Fly, fly, my lord! There is no tarrying here. + +BRUTUS +Farewell to you--and you--and you, Volumnius.-- +Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep. +Farewell to thee, too, Strato.--Countrymen, +My heart doth joy that yet in all my life +I found no man but he was true to me. +I shall have glory by this losing day +More than Octavius and Mark Antony +By this vile conquest shall attain unto. +So fare you well at once, for Brutus' tongue +Hath almost ended his life's history. +Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, +That have but labored to attain this hour. +[Alarum. Cry within "Fly, fly, fly!"] + +CLITUS +Fly, my lord, fly! + +BRUTUS Hence. I will follow. +[All exit but Brutus and Strato.] +I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord. +Thou art a fellow of a good respect; +Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it. +Hold, then, my sword, and turn away thy face +While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? + +STRATO +Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord. + +BRUTUS +Farewell, good Strato. +[Brutus runs on his sword.] +Caesar, now be still. +I killed not thee with half so good a will. [He dies.] + +[Alarum. Retreat. Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, +Lucilius, and the army.] + + +OCTAVIUS What man is that? + +MESSALA +My master's man.--Strato, where is thy master? + +STRATO +Free from the bondage you are in, Messala. +The conquerors can but make a fire of him, +For Brutus only overcame himself, +And no man else hath honor by his death. + +LUCILIUS +So Brutus should be found.--I thank thee, Brutus, +That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. + +OCTAVIUS +All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.-- +Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? + +STRATO +Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. + +OCTAVIUS +Do so, good Messala. + +MESSALA How died my master, Strato? + +STRATO +I held the sword, and he did run on it. + +MESSALA +Octavius, then take him to follow thee, +That did the latest service to my master. + +ANTONY +This was the noblest Roman of them all. +All the conspirators save only he +Did that they did in envy of great Caesar. +He only in a general honest thought +And common good to all made one of them. +His life was gentle and the elements +So mixed in him that nature might stand up +And say to all the world "This was a man." + +OCTAVIUS +According to his virtue, let us use him +With all respect and rites of burial. +Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie, +Most like a soldier, ordered honorably. +So call the field to rest, and let's away +To part the glories of this happy day. +[They all exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/king-john_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/king-john_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..162067b --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/king-john_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4020 @@ +King John +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/king-john/ +Created on Oct 4, 2017, from FDT version 0.9.2.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +JOHN, King of England, with dominion over assorted Continental territories +QUEEN ELEANOR, King John's mother, widow of King Henry II +BLANCHE of Spain, niece to King John +PRINCE HENRY, son to King John +CONSTANCE, widow of Geoffrey, King John's elder brother +ARTHUR, Duke of Brittany, her son +KING PHILIP II of France +LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, his son +DUKE OF AUSTRIA (also called LIMOGES) +CHATILLION, ambassador from France to King John +COUNT MELUN +A FRENCH HERALD +CARDINAL PANDULPH, Papal Legate +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +The BASTARD, PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE, her son by King Richard I +ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, her son by Sir Robert Faulconbridge +JAMES GURNEY, her servant +HUBERT, supporter of King John +English nobles: + EARL OF SALISBURY + EARL OF PEMBROKE + EARL OF ESSEX + LORD BIGOT +A CITIZEN of Angiers +PETER of Pomfret, a Prophet +An ENGLISH HERALD +EXECUTIONERS +English MESSENGER, French MESSENGER, Sheriff, Lords, Soldiers, Attendants + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, Pembroke, Essex, and +Salisbury, with the Chatillion of France.] + + +KING JOHN +Now say, Chatillion, what would France with us? + +CHATILLION +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrowed majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +A strange beginning: "borrowed majesty"! + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother. Hear the embassy. + +CHATILLION +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geoffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poitiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put the same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLION +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLION +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace. +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France, +For ere thou canst report, I will be there; +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard. +So, hence. Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay.-- +An honorable conduct let him have. +Pembroke, look to 't.--Farewell, Chatillion. +[Chatillion and Pembroke exit.] + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [aside to King John] +What now, my son! Have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN, [aside to Queen Eleanor] +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [aside to King John] +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me-- +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but God and you and I shall hear. + +[Enter a Sheriff, who speaks aside to Essex.] + + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from the country to be judged by you +That e'er I heard. Shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN Let them approach. [Sheriff exits.] +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +[Enter Robert Faulconbridge and Philip Faulconbridge.] + +What men are you? + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman, +Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honor-giving hand +Of Coeur de Lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN, [to Robert Faulconbridge] What art thou? + +ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +Most certain of one mother, mighty king-- +That is well known--and, as I think, one father. +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother. +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Out on thee, rude man! Thou dost shame thy +mother +And wound her honor with this diffidence. + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +I, madam? No, I have no reason for it. +That is my brother's plea, and none of mine, +The which if he can prove, he pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year. +Heaven guard my mother's honor and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow.--Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slandered me with bastardy. +But whe'er I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head. +But that I am as well begot, my liege-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old Sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father, and this son like him, +O, old Sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [aside to King John] +He hath a trick of Coeur de Lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN, [aside to Queen Eleanor] +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. [To Robert +Faulconbridge] Sirrah, speak. +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land-- +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much-- + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land. +Your tale must be how he employed my mother. + +ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE +And once dispatched him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the Emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +Th' advantage of his absence took the King +And in the meantime sojourned at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak. +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his deathbed he by will bequeathed +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +An if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate. +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +An if she did play false, the fault was hers, +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who as you say took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claimed this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world; +In sooth he might. Then if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him, nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes: +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Whether hadst thou rather: be a Faulconbridge +And, like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur de Lion, +Lord of thy presence, and no land besides? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape +And I had his, Sir Robert's his like him, +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuffed, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose, +Lest men should say "Look where three-farthings +goes," +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face. +I would not be Sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land. I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear.-- +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou +bearest. +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great. +[Philip kneels. King John dubs him a knight, +tapping him on the shoulder with his sword.] +Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD, [rising, to Robert Faulconbridge] +Brother by th' mother's side, give me your hand. +My father gave me honor, yours gave land. +Now blessed be the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, Sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELEANOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard. Call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth. What though? +Something about, a little from the right, + In at the window, or else o'er the hatch. +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, + And have is have, however men do catch. +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN, [to Robert Faulconbridge] +Go, Faulconbridge, now hast thou thy desire. +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.-- +Come, madam,--and come, Richard. We must +speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu, good fortune come to thee, +For thou wast got i' th' way of honesty. +[All but Bastard exit.] +A foot of honor better than I was, +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +"Good den, Sir Richard!" "God-a-mercy, fellow!" +An if his name be George, I'll call him "Peter," +For new-made honor doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveler, +He and his toothpick at my Worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechize +My picked man of countries: "My dear sir," +Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin, +"I shall beseech you"--that is Question now, +And then comes Answer like an absey-book: +"O, sir," says Answer, "at your best command, +At your employment, at your service, sir." +"No, sir," says Question, "I, sweet sir, at yours." +And so, ere Answer knows what Question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself; +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation, +And so am I whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accouterment, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth, +Which though I will not practice to deceive, +Yet to avoid deceit I mean to learn, +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. + +[Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney.] + +But who comes in such haste in riding robes? +What woman post is this? Hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? +O me, 'tis my mother.--How now, good lady? +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave thy brother? Where is he +That holds in chase mine honor up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the Giant, that same mighty man? +Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +"Sir Robert's son"? Ay, thou unreverent boy, +Sir Robert's son. Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert? +He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD "Philip Sparrow," James. +There's toys abroad. Anon I'll tell thee more. +[James Gurney exits.] +Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son. +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good Friday and ne'er broke his fast. +Sir Robert could do well--marry, to confess-- +Could he get me. Sir Robert could not do it; +We know his handiwork. Therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine +honor? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What, I am dubbed! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son. +I have disclaimed Sir Robert and my land. +Legitimation, name, and all is gone. +Then, good my mother, let me know my father-- +Some proper man, I hope. Who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur de Lion was thy father. +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed. +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offense, +Which was so strongly urged past my defense. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on Earth, +And so doth yours. Your fault was not your folly. +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father. +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin, + And they shall say when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin. + Who says it was, he lies. I say 'twas not. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter, before Angiers, at one side, with Forces, Philip +King of France, Louis the Dauphin, Constance, Arthur, +and Attendants; at the other side, with Forces, Austria, +wearing a lion's skin.] + + +DAUPHIN +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.-- +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robbed the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave. +And, for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come +To spread his colors, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John. +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur de Lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war. +I give you welcome with a powerless hand +But with a heart full of unstained love. +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +DAUPHIN +A noble boy. Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA, [to Arthur] +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss +As seal to this indenture of my love: +That to my home I will no more return +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the West +Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love. + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well, then, to work. Our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline +To cull the plots of best advantages. +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the marketplace in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood. +My lord Chatillion may from England bring +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +[Enter Chatillion.] + + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! Lo, upon thy wish +Our messenger Chatillion is arrived.-- +What England says say briefly, gentle lord. +We coldly pause for thee. Chatillion, speak. + +CHATILLION +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stayed, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I. +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the Mother Queen, +An Ate stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanche of Spain; +With them a bastard of the King's deceased. +And all th' unsettled humors of the land-- +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens-- +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make a hazard of new fortunes here. +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did never float upon the swelling tide +To do offense and scathe in Christendom. +[Drum beats.] +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance. They are at hand, +To parley or to fight, therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlooked-for is this expedition. + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endeavor for defense, +For courage mounteth with occasion. +Let them be welcome, then. We are prepared. + +[Enter King John of England, Bastard, Queen +Eleanor, Blanche, Salisbury, Pembroke, and others.] + + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own. +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love, and for that England's sake +With burden of our armor here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far +That thou hast underwrought his lawful king, +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Outfaced infant state, and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geoffrey's face. +[He points to Arthur.] +These eyes, these brows, were molded out of his; +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geoffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geoffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son. England was Geoffrey's right, +And this is Geoffrey's. In the name of God, +How comes it then that thou art called a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, +France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority +To look into the blots and stains of right. +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy, +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong, +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer: thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king +That thou mayst be a queen and check the world. + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband, and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geoffrey +Than thou and John, in manners being as like +As rain to water or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard? By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot. +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [to Arthur] +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD Hear the crier! + +AUSTRIA What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An he may catch your hide and you alone. +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valor plucks dead lions by the beard. +I'll smoke your skin-coat an I catch you right. +Sirrah, look to 't. I' faith, I will, i' faith! + +BLANCHE +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe. + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass.-- +But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What cracker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Louis, determine what we shall do straight. + +DAUPHIN +Women and fools, break off your conference.-- +King John, this is the very sum of all: +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee. +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon! I do defy thee, France.-- +Arthur of Brittany, yield thee to my hand, +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win. +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELEANOR Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child. +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig. +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR, [weeping] Good my mother, peace. +I would that I were low laid in my grave. +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you whe'er she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's +shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor +eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee. +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and Earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and Earth, +Call not me slanderer. Thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties, and rights +Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eldest son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee. +Thy sins are visited in this poor child. +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plagued for her, +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punished in the person of this child +And all for her. A plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? A will--a wicked will, +A woman's will, a cankered grandam's will. + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady. Pause, or be more temperate. +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions.-- +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers. Let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. +[Trumpet sounds.] + +[Enter Citizens upon the walls.] + + +CITIZEN +Who is it that hath warned us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage. Therefore hear us first. +These flags of France that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither marched to your endamagement. +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls. +All preparation for a bloody siege +And merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates, +And, but for our approach, those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheck before your gates +To save unscratched your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle. +And now, instead of bullets wrapped in fire +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke +To make a faithless error in your ears, +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in. Your king, whose labored spirits +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Craves harborage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +[He takes Arthur by the hand.] +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vowed upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys. +For this downtrodden equity we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To him that owes it, namely, this young prince, +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear +Save in aspect, hath all offense sealed up. +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against th' invulnerable clouds of heaven, +And with a blessed and unvexed retire, +With unbacked swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives, and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffered offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbored in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +CITIZEN +In brief, we are the King of England's subjects. +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the King and let me in. + +CITIZEN +That can we not. But he that proves the King, +To him will we prove loyal. Till that time +Have we rammed up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the King? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed-- + +BASTARD Bastards and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as wellborn bloods as those-- + +BASTARD Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +CITIZEN +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king. + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen.--Mount, chevaliers! To arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon and e'er +since +Sits on 's horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! [To Austria.] Sirrah, were I at +home +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness, +I would set an ox head to your lion's hide +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA Peace! No more. + +BASTARD +O, tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN, [to his officers] +Up higher to the plain, where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed, then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP, [to his officers] +It shall be so, and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! +[They exit. Citizens remain, above.] + +[Here, after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with +Trumpets, to the gates.] + + +FRENCH HERALD +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Brittany, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground. +Many a widow's husband groveling lies +Coldly embracing the discolored earth, +And victory with little loss doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Brittany England's king and yours. + +[Enter English Herald, with Trumpet.] + + +ENGLISH HERALD +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells! +King John, your king and England's, doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day. +Their armors, that marched hence so silver bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood. +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France. +Our colors do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first marched forth, +And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. +Open your gates, and give the victors way. + +CITIZEN +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold +From first to last the onset and retire +Of both your armies, whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured. +Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answered +blows, +Strength matched with strength, and power +confronted power. +Both are alike, and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +[Enter the two Kings with their Powers (including the +Bastard, Queen Eleanor, Blanche, and Salisbury; +Austria, and Louis the Dauphin), at several doors.] + + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right roam on, +Whose passage, vexed with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturbed even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean? + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood +In this hot trial more than we of France, +Rather lost more. And by this hand I swear +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we +bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD, [aside] +Ha, majesty! How high thy glory towers +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel, +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs, +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry havoc, kings! Back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits. +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace. Till then, blows, blood, and +death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England. Who's your king? + +CITIZEN +The King of England, when we know the King. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +CITIZEN +A greater power than we denies all this, +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barred gates, +Kings of our fear, until our fears resolved +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements +As in a theater, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences, be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town. +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamors have brawled down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city. +I'd play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths +And part your mingled colors once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point. +Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favor she shall give the day +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even with the ground, +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD, [to King Philip] +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls, +And when that we have dashed them to the ground, +Why, then, defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA I from the north. + +KING PHILIP Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD, [aside] +O, prudent discipline! From north to south, +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth. +I'll stir them to it. -- Come, away, away! + +CITIZEN +Hear us, great kings. Vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league, +Win you this city without stroke or wound, +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds +That here come sacrifices for the field. +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favor. We are bent to hear. + +CITIZEN +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanche, +Is near to England. Look upon the years +Of Louis the Dauphin and that lovely maid. +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanche? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady +Blanche? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete. +If not complete of, say he is not she, +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he. +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she, +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents when they join +Do glorify the banks that bound them in, +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates, for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope +And give you entrance. But without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In mortal fury half so peremptory +As we to keep this city. +[King Philip and Louis the Dauphin +walk aside and talk.] + +BASTARD, [aside] Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth indeed +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and +seas; +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs. +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke, and +bounce. +He gives the bastinado with his tongue. +Our ears are cudgeled. Not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France. +Zounds, I was never so bethumped with words +Since I first called my brother's father Dad. + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [aside to King John] +Son, list to this conjunction; make this match. +Give with our niece a dowry large enough, +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France. +Mark how they whisper. Urge them while their +souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +CITIZEN +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threatened town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city. What say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read "I love," +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen. +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea-- +Except this city now by us besieged-- +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honors, and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What sayst thou, boy? Look in the lady's face. + +DAUPHIN +I do, my lord, and in her eye I find +A wonder or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself formed in her eye, +Which, being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow. +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. +[He whispers with Blanche.] + +BASTARD, [aside] +"Drawn in the flattering table of her eye"? + Hanged in the frowning wrinkle of her brow +And quartered in her heart! He doth espy + Himself love's traitor. This is pity now, +That hanged and drawn and quartered there should +be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCHE, [aside to Dauphin] +My uncle's will in this respect is mine. +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That anything he sees which moves his liking +I can with ease translate it to my will. +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it eas'ly to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this: that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be +your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you, my +niece? + +BLANCHE +That she is bound in honor still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, Prince Dauphin. Can you love this lady? + +DAUPHIN +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love, +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poitiers and Anjou, these five provinces +With her to thee, and this addition more: +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.-- +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well.--Young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too, for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. +[Dauphin and Blanche join hands and kiss.] + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates. +Let in that amity which you have made, +For at Saint Mary's Chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.-- +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much. +Where is she and her son? Tell me, who knows. + +DAUPHIN +She is sad and passionate at your Highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure.-- +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came, +Which we, God knows, have turned another way +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN We will heal up all, +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Brittany +And Earl of Richmond, and this rich, fair town +We make him lord of.--Call the Lady Constance. +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity. [Salisbury exits.] I trust we +shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we as well as haste will suffer us +To this unlooked-for, unprepared pomp. +[All but the Bastard exit.] + +BASTARD +Mad world, mad kings, mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part; +And France, whose armor conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids-- +Who having no external thing to lose +But the word "maid," cheats the poor maid of +that-- +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world-- +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent. +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapped on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honorable war +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not wooed me yet. +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand +When his fair angels would salute my palm, +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon Commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee! +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury.] + + +CONSTANCE, [to Salisbury] +Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace? +False blood to false blood joined? Gone to be friends? +Shall Louis have Blanche and Blanche those +provinces? +It is not so. Thou hast misspoke, misheard. +Be well advised; tell o'er thy tale again. +It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so. +I trust I may not trust thee, for thy word +Is but the vain breath of a common man. +Believe me, I do not believe thee, man. +I have a king's oath to the contrary. +Thou shalt be punished for thus flighting me, +For I am sick and capable of fears, +Oppressed with wrongs and therefore full of fears, +A widow, husbandless, subject to fears, +A woman naturally born to fears. +And though thou now confess thou didst but jest, +With my vexed spirits I cannot take a truce, +But they will quake and tremble all this day. +What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? +Why dost thou look so sadly on my son? +What means that hand upon that breast of thine? +Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, +Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds? +Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? +Then speak again--not all thy former tale, +But this one word, whether thy tale be true. + +SALISBURY +As true as I believe you think them false +That give you cause to prove my saying true. + +CONSTANCE +O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow, +Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die, +And let belief and life encounter so +As doth the fury of two desperate men +Which in the very meeting fall and die. +Louis marry Blanche?--O, boy, then where art +thou?-- +France friend with England? What becomes of me? +Fellow, be gone. I cannot brook thy sight. +This news hath made thee a most ugly man. + +SALISBURY +What other harm have I, good lady, done +But spoke the harm that is by others done? + +CONSTANCE +Which harm within itself so heinous is +As it makes harmful all that speak of it. + +ARTHUR +I do beseech you, madam, be content. + +CONSTANCE +If thou that bidd'st me be content wert grim, +Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb, +Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains, +Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious, +Patched with foul moles and eye-offending marks, +I would not care; I then would be content, +For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou +Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown. +But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, +Nature and Fortune joined to make thee great. +Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, +And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O, +She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee; +Sh' adulterates hourly with thine Uncle John, +And with her golden hand hath plucked on France +To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, +And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. +France is a bawd to Fortune and King John, +That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John.-- +Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn? +Envenom him with words, or get thee gone +And leave those woes alone which I alone +Am bound to underbear. + +SALISBURY Pardon me, madam, +I may not go without you to the Kings. + +CONSTANCE +Thou mayst, thou shalt, I will not go with thee. +I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, +For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop. +[She sits down.] +To me and to the state of my great grief +Let kings assemble, for my grief 's so great +That no supporter but the huge firm Earth +Can hold it up. Here I and sorrows sit. +Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it. + +[Enter King John, hand in hand with King Philip of +France, Louis the Dauphin, Blanche, Queen Eleanor, +Bastard, Austria, and Attendants.] + + +KING PHILIP, [to Blanche] +'Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed day +Ever in France shall be kept festival. +To solemnize this day the glorious sun +Stays in his course and plays the alchemist, +Turning with splendor of his precious eye +The meager cloddy earth to glittering gold. +The yearly course that brings this day about +Shall never see it but a holy day. + +CONSTANCE, [rising] +A wicked day, and not a holy day! +What hath this day deserved? What hath it done +That it in golden letters should be set +Among the high tides in the calendar? +Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, +This day of shame, oppression, perjury. +Or if it must stand still, let wives with child +Pray that their burdens may not fall this day, +Lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed. +But on this day let seamen fear no wrack; +No bargains break that are not this day made; +This day, all things begun come to ill end, +Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change! + +KING PHILIP +By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause +To curse the fair proceedings of this day. +Have I not pawned to you my majesty? + +CONSTANCE +You have beguiled me with a counterfeit +Resembling majesty, which, being touched and tried, +Proves valueless. You are forsworn, forsworn. +You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, +But now in arms you strengthen it with yours. +The grappling vigor and rough frown of war +Is cold in amity and painted peace, +And our oppression hath made up this league. +Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured +kings! +A widow cries; be husband to me, God! +Let not the hours of this ungodly day +Wear out the days in peace, but ere sunset +Set armed discord 'twixt these perjured kings. +Hear me, O, hear me! + +AUSTRIA Lady Constance, peace. + +CONSTANCE +War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war. +O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame +That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou +coward, +Thou little valiant, great in villainy, +Thou ever strong upon the stronger side, +Thou Fortune's champion, that dost never fight +But when her humorous Ladyship is by +To teach thee safety. Thou art perjured too, +And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, +A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear +Upon my party. Thou cold-blooded slave, +Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side? +Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend +Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? +And dost thou now fall over to my foes? +Thou wear a lion's hide! Doff it for shame, +And hang a calfskin on those recreant limbs. + +AUSTRIA +O, that a man should speak those words to me! + +BASTARD +"And hang a calfskin on those recreant limbs." + +AUSTRIA +Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life! + +BASTARD +"And hang a calfskin on those recreant limbs." + +KING JOHN +We like not this. Thou dost forget thyself. + +[Enter Pandulph.] + + +KING PHILIP +Here comes the holy legate of the Pope. + +PANDULPH +Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! +To thee, King John, my holy errand is. +I, Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal +And from Pope Innocent the legate here, +Do in his name religiously demand +Why thou against the Church, our holy mother, +So willfully dost spurn, and force perforce +Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop +Of Canterbury, from that Holy See. +This, in our foresaid Holy Father's name, +Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. + +KING JOHN +What earthy name to interrogatories +Can task the free breath of a sacred king? +Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name +So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous +To charge me to an answer, as the Pope. +Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England +Add thus much more, that no Italian priest +Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; +But as we under God are supreme head, +So, under Him, that great supremacy +Where we do reign we will alone uphold +Without th' assistance of a mortal hand. +So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart +To him and his usurped authority. + +KING PHILIP +Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. + +KING JOHN +Though you and all the kings of Christendom +Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, +Dreading the curse that money may buy out, +And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, +Purchase corrupted pardon of a man +Who in that sale sells pardon from himself, +Though you and all the rest, so grossly led, +This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish, +Yet I alone, alone do me oppose +Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes. + +PANDULPH +Then, by the lawful power that I have, +Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate; +And blessed shall he be that doth revolt +From his allegiance to an heretic; +And meritorious shall that hand be called, +Canonized and worshiped as a saint, +That takes away by any secret course +Thy hateful life. + +CONSTANCE O, lawful let it be +That I have room with Rome to curse awhile! +Good father cardinal, cry thou "Amen" +To my keen curses, for without my wrong +There is no tongue hath power to curse him right. + +PANDULPH +There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. + +CONSTANCE +And for mine, too. When law can do no right, +Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong. +Law cannot give my child his kingdom here, +For he that holds his kingdom holds the law. +Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, +How can the law forbid my tongue to curse? + +PANDULPH +Philip of France, on peril of a curse, +Let go the hand of that arch-heretic, +And raise the power of France upon his head +Unless he do submit himself to Rome. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Look'st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand. + +CONSTANCE +Look to that, devil, lest that France repent +And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul. + +AUSTRIA +King Philip, listen to the Cardinal. + +BASTARD +And hang a calfskin on his recreant limbs. + +AUSTRIA +Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, +Because-- + +BASTARD Your breeches best may carry them. + +KING JOHN +Philip, what sayst thou to the Cardinal? + +CONSTANCE +What should he say, but as the Cardinal? + +DAUPHIN +Bethink you, father, for the difference +Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, +Or the light loss of England for a friend. +Forgo the easier. + +BLANCHE That's the curse of Rome. + +CONSTANCE +O Louis, stand fast! The devil tempts thee here +In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. + +BLANCHE +The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, +But from her need. + +CONSTANCE, [to King Philip] +O, if thou grant my need, +Which only lives but by the death of faith, +That need must needs infer this principle: +That faith would live again by death of need. +O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up; +Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. + +KING JOHN +The King is moved, and answers not to this. + +CONSTANCE, [to King Philip] +O, be removed from him, and answer well! + +AUSTRIA +Do so, King Philip. Hang no more in doubt. + +BASTARD +Hang nothing but a calfskin, most sweet lout. + +KING PHILIP +I am perplexed and know not what to say. + +PANDULPH +What canst thou say but will perplex thee more, +If thou stand excommunicate and cursed? + +KING PHILIP +Good reverend father, make my person yours, +And tell me how you would bestow yourself. +This royal hand and mine are newly knit, +And the conjunction of our inward souls +Married, in league, coupled, and linked together +With all religious strength of sacred vows. +The latest breath that gave the sound of words +Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love +Between our kingdoms and our royal selves; +And even before this truce, but new before, +No longer than we well could wash our hands +To clap this royal bargain up of peace, +God knows they were besmeared and overstained +With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint +The fearful difference of incensed kings. +And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, +So newly joined in love, so strong in both, +Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet? +Play fast and loose with faith? So jest with heaven? +Make such unconstant children of ourselves +As now again to snatch our palm from palm, +Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage bed +Of smiling peace to march a bloody host +And make a riot on the gentle brow +Of true sincerity? O holy sir, +My reverend father, let it not be so! +Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose +Some gentle order, and then we shall be blest +To do your pleasure and continue friends. + +PANDULPH +All form is formless, order orderless, +Save what is opposite to England's love. +Therefore to arms! Be champion of our Church, +Or let the Church, our mother, breathe her curse, +A mother's curse, on her revolting son. +France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, +A chafed lion by the mortal paw, +A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, +Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold. + +KING PHILIP +I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. + +PANDULPH +So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith, +And like a civil war sett'st oath to oath, +Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow +First made to God, first be to God performed, +That is, to be the champion of our Church! +What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyself +And may not be performed by thyself, +For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss +Is not amiss when it is truly done; +And being not done where doing tends to ill, +The truth is then most done not doing it. +The better act of purposes mistook +Is to mistake again; though indirect, +Yet indirection thereby grows direct, +And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire +Within the scorched veins of one new-burned. +It is religion that doth make vows kept, +But thou hast sworn against religion +By what thou swear'st against the thing thou +swear'st, +And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth +Against an oath. The truth thou art unsure +To swear swears only not to be forsworn, +Else what a mockery should it be to swear? +But thou dost swear only to be forsworn, +And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear. +Therefore thy later vows against thy first +Is in thyself rebellion to thyself. +And better conquest never canst thou make +Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts +Against these giddy loose suggestions, +Upon which better part our prayers come in, +If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know +The peril of our curses light on thee +So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off, +But in despair die under their black weight. + +AUSTRIA +Rebellion, flat rebellion! + +BASTARD Will 't not be? +Will not a calfskin stop that mouth of thine? + +DAUPHIN +Father, to arms! + +BLANCHE Upon thy wedding day? +Against the blood that thou hast married? +What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men? +Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, +Clamors of hell, be measures to our pomp? +[She kneels.] +O husband, hear me! Ay, alack, how new +Is "husband" in my mouth! Even for that name, +Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, +Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms +Against mine uncle. + +CONSTANCE, [kneeling] +O, upon my knee +Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, +Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom +Forethought by heaven! + +BLANCHE, [to Dauphin] +Now shall I see thy love. What motive may +Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? + +CONSTANCE +That which upholdeth him that thee upholds, +His honor.--O, thine honor, Louis, thine honor! + +DAUPHIN, [to King Philip] +I muse your Majesty doth seem so cold, +When such profound respects do pull you on. + +PANDULPH +I will denounce a curse upon his head. + +KING PHILIP, [dropping King John's hand] +Thou shalt not need.--England, I will fall from +thee. + +CONSTANCE, [rising] +O, fair return of banished majesty! + +QUEEN ELEANOR +O, foul revolt of French inconstancy! + +KING JOHN +France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour. + +BASTARD +Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time, +Is it as he will? Well, then, France shall rue. + +BLANCHE, [rising] +The sun's o'ercast with blood. Fair day, adieu. +Which is the side that I must go withal? +I am with both, each army hath a hand, +And in their rage, I having hold of both, +They whirl asunder and dismember me. +Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win.-- +Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose.-- +Father, I may not wish the fortune thine.-- +Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. +Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose. +Assured loss before the match be played. + +DAUPHIN +Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. + +BLANCHE +There where my fortune lives, there my life dies. + +KING JOHN, [to Bastard] +Cousin, go draw our puissance together. +[Bastard exits.] +France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath, +A rage whose heat hath this condition, +That nothing can allay, nothing but blood-- +The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France. + +KING PHILIP +Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn +To ashes ere our blood shall quench that fire. +Look to thyself. Thou art in jeopardy. + +KING JOHN +No more than he that threats.--To arms let's hie! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarums, excursions. +Enter Bastard with Austria's head.] + + +BASTARD +Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot. +Some airy devil hovers in the sky +And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there, +While Philip breathes. + +[Enter King John, Arthur, Hubert.] + + +KING JOHN +Hubert, keep this boy.--Philip, make up. +My mother is assailed in our tent +And ta'en, I fear. + +BASTARD My lord, I rescued her. +Her Highness is in safety, fear you not. +But on, my liege, for very little pains +Will bring this labor to an happy end. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarums, excursions, retreat. +Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, Arthur, Bastard, +Hubert, Lords.] + + +KING JOHN, [to Queen Eleanor] +So shall it be. Your Grace shall stay behind +So strongly guarded. [To Arthur.] Cousin, look not sad. +Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will +As dear be to thee as thy father was. + +ARTHUR +O, this will make my mother die with grief! + +KING JOHN, [to Bastard] +Cousin, away for England! Haste before, +And ere our coining see thou shake the bags +Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels +Set at liberty. The fat ribs of peace +Must by the hungry now be fed upon. +Use our commission in his utmost force. + +BASTARD +Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back +When gold and silver becks me to come on. +I leave your Highness.--Grandam, I will pray, +If ever I remember to be holy, +For your fair safety. So I kiss your hand. + +QUEEN ELEANOR +Farewell, gentle cousin. + +KING JOHN Coz, farewell. [Bastard exits.] + +QUEEN ELEANOR, [to Arthur] +Come hither, little kinsman. Hark, a word. +[They walk aside.] + +KING JOHN +Come hither, Hubert. [He takes Hubert aside.] +O, my gentle Hubert, +We owe thee much. Within this wall of flesh +There is a soul counts thee her creditor, +And with advantage means to pay thy love. +And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath +Lives in this bosom dearly cherished. +Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say, +But I will fit it with some better tune. +By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed +To say what good respect I have of thee. + +HUBERT +I am much bounden to your Majesty. + +KING JOHN +Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet, +But thou shalt have. And, creep time ne'er so slow, +Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. +I had a thing to say--but let it go. +The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, +Attended with the pleasures of the world, +Is all too wanton and too full of gauds +To give me audience. If the midnight bell +Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth +Sound on into the drowsy race of night; +If this same were a churchyard where we stand, +And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; +Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, +Had baked thy blood and made it heavy, thick, +Which else runs tickling up and down the veins, +Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes +And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, +A passion hateful to my purposes; +Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes, +Hear me without thine ears, and make reply +Without a tongue, using conceit alone, +Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words; +Then, in despite of brooded watchful day, +I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts. +But, ah, I will not. Yet I love thee well, +And by my troth I think thou lov'st me well. + +HUBERT +So well that what you bid me undertake, +Though that my death were adjunct to my act, +By heaven, I would do it. + +KING JOHN Do not I know thou wouldst? +Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye +On yon young boy. I'll tell thee what, my friend, +He is a very serpent in my way, +And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, +He lies before me. Dost thou understand me? +Thou art his keeper. + +HUBERT And I'll keep him so +That he shall not offend your Majesty. + +KING JOHN +Death. + +HUBERT My lord? + +KING JOHN A grave. + +HUBERT He shall not live. + +KING JOHN Enough. +I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee. +Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee. +Remember. [He turns to Queen Eleanor.] Madam, fare +you well. +I'll send those powers o'er to your Majesty. + +QUEEN ELEANOR My blessing go with thee. + +KING JOHN, [to Arthur] For England, cousin, go. +Hubert shall be your man, attend on you +With all true duty.--On toward Calais, ho! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter King Philip of France,Louis the Dauphin, +Pandulph, Attendants.] + + +KING PHILIP +So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, +A whole armada of convicted sail +Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship. + +PANDULPH +Courage and comfort. All shall yet go well. + +KING PHILIP +What can go well when we have run so ill? +Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost? +Arthur ta'en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain? +And bloody England into England gone, +O'erbearing interruption, spite of France? + +DAUPHIN +What he hath won, that hath he fortified. +So hot a speed, with such advice disposed, +Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, +Doth want example. Who hath read or heard +Of any kindred action like to this? + +KING PHILIP +Well could I bear that England had this praise, +So we could find some pattern of our shame. + +[Enter Constance, with her hair unbound.] + +Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul, +Holding th' eternal spirit against her will +In the vile prison of afflicted breath.-- +I prithee, lady, go away with me. + +CONSTANCE +Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace! + +KING PHILIP +Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance. + +CONSTANCE +No, I defy all counsel, all redress, +But that which ends all counsel, true redress. +Death, death, O amiable, lovely death, +Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness, +Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, +Thou hate and terror to prosperity, +And I will kiss thy detestable bones +And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows, +And ring these fingers with thy household worms, +And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, +And be a carrion monster like thyself. +Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st, +And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love, +O, come to me! + +KING PHILIP O fair affliction, peace! + +CONSTANCE +No, no, I will not, having breath to cry. +O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! +Then with a passion would I shake the world +And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy +Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, +Which scorns a modern invocation. + +PANDULPH +Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow. + +CONSTANCE +Thou art not holy to belie me so. +I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine; +My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey's wife; +Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost. +I am not mad; I would to heaven I were, +For then 'tis like I should forget myself. +O, if I could, what grief should I forget! +Preach some philosophy to make me mad, +And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal. +For, being not mad but sensible of grief, +My reasonable part produces reason +How I may be delivered of these woes, +And teaches me to kill or hang myself. +If I were mad, I should forget my son, +Or madly think a babe of clouts were he. +I am not mad. Too well, too well I feel +The different plague of each calamity. + +KING PHILIP +Bind up those tresses.--O, what love I note +In the fair multitude of those her hairs; +Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall'n, +Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends +Do glue themselves in sociable grief, +Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, +Sticking together in calamity. + +CONSTANCE +To England, if you will. + +KING PHILIP Bind up your hairs. + +CONSTANCE +Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it? +I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud +"O, that these hands could so redeem my son, +As they have given these hairs their liberty!" +But now I envy at their liberty, +And will again commit them to their bonds, +Because my poor child is a prisoner. +[She binds up her hair.] +And father cardinal, I have heard you say +That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. +If that be true, I shall see my boy again; +For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, +To him that did but yesterday suspire, +There was not such a gracious creature born. +But now will canker sorrow eat my bud +And chase the native beauty from his cheek, +And he will look as hollow as a ghost, +As dim and meager as an ague's fit, +And so he'll die; and, rising so again, +When I shall meet him in the court of heaven +I shall not know him. Therefore never, never +Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. + +PANDULPH +You hold too heinous a respect of grief. + +CONSTANCE +He talks to me that never had a son. + +KING PHILIP +You are as fond of grief as of your child. + +CONSTANCE +Grief fills the room up of my absent child, +Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, +Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, +Remembers me of all his gracious parts, +Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; +Then, have I reason to be fond of grief? +Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I, +I could give better comfort than you do. +[She unbinds her hair.] +I will not keep this form upon my head +When there is such disorder in my wit. +O Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my fair son, +My life, my joy, my food, my all the world, +My widow-comfort and my sorrows' cure! [She exits.] + +KING PHILIP +I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. +[He exits, with Attendants.] + +DAUPHIN +There's nothing in this world can make me joy. +Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, +Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; +And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world's +taste, +That it yields naught but shame and bitterness. + +PANDULPH +Before the curing of a strong disease, +Even in the instant of repair and health, +The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave +On their departure most of all show evil. +What have you lost by losing of this day? + +DAUPHIN +All days of glory, joy, and happiness. + +PANDULPH +If you had won it, certainly you had. +No, no. When Fortune means to men most good, +She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye. +'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost +In this which he accounts so clearly won. +Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner? + +DAUPHIN +As heartily as he is glad he hath him. + +PANDULPH +Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. +Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit. +For even the breath of what I mean to speak +Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, +Out of the path which shall directly lead +Thy foot to England's throne. And therefore mark: +John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be +That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, +The misplaced John should entertain an hour, +One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest. +A scepter snatched with an unruly hand +Must be as boisterously maintained as gained. +And he that stands upon a slipp'ry place +Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. +That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall. +So be it, for it cannot be but so. + +DAUPHIN +But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? + +PANDULPH +You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife, +May then make all the claim that Arthur did. + +DAUPHIN +And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. + +PANDULPH +How green you are and fresh in this old world! +John lays you plots. The times conspire with you, +For he that steeps his safety in true blood +Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue. +This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts +Of all his people and freeze up their zeal, +That none so small advantage shall step forth +To check his reign but they will cherish it. +No natural exhalation in the sky, +No scope of nature, no distempered day, +No common wind, no customed event, +But they will pluck away his natural cause +And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, +Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven, +Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. + +DAUPHIN +Maybe he will not touch young Arthur's life, +But hold himself safe in his prisonment. + +PANDULPH +O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, +If that young Arthur be not gone already, +Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts +Of all his people shall revolt from him +And kiss the lips of unacquainted change, +And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath +Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. +Methinks I see this hurly all on foot; +And, O, what better matter breeds for you +Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge +Is now in England ransacking the Church, +Offending charity. If but a dozen French +Were there in arms, they would be as a call +To train ten thousand English to their side, +Or as a little snow, tumbled about, +Anon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin, +Go with me to the King. 'Tis wonderful +What may be wrought out of their discontent, +Now that their souls are topful of offense. +For England, go. I will whet on the King. + +DAUPHIN +Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go. +If you say ay, the King will not say no. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hubert and Executioners, with irons and rope.] + + +HUBERT +Heat me these irons hot, and look thou stand +Within the arras. When I strike my foot +Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth +And bind the boy which you shall find with me +Fast to the chair. Be heedful. Hence, and watch. + +EXECUTIONER +I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. + +HUBERT +Uncleanly scruples fear not you. Look to 't. +[Executioners exit.] +Young lad, come forth. I have to say with you. + +[Enter Arthur.] + + +ARTHUR +Good morrow, Hubert. + +HUBERT Good morrow, little prince. + +ARTHUR +As little prince, having so great a title +To be more prince, as may be. You are sad. + +HUBERT +Indeed, I have been merrier. + +ARTHUR Mercy on me! +Methinks nobody should be sad but I. +Yet I remember, when I was in France, +Young gentlemen would be as sad as night +Only for wantonness. By my christendom, +So I were out of prison and kept sheep, +I should be as merry as the day is long. +And so I would be here but that I doubt +My uncle practices more harm to me. +He is afraid of me, and I of him. +Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son? +No, indeed, is 't not. And I would to heaven +I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. + +HUBERT, [aside] +If I talk to him, with his innocent prate +He will awake my mercy, which lies dead. +Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch. + +ARTHUR +Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale today. +In sooth, I would you were a little sick +That I might sit all night and watch with you. +I warrant I love you more than you do me. + +HUBERT, [aside] +His words do take possession of my bosom. +[He shows Arthur a paper.] +Read here, young Arthur. [(Aside.)] How now, +foolish rheum? +Turning dispiteous torture out of door? +I must be brief lest resolution drop +Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.-- +Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ? + +ARTHUR +Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. +Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? + +HUBERT +Young boy, I must. + +ARTHUR And will you? + +HUBERT And I will. + +ARTHUR +Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, +I knit my handkercher about your brows-- +The best I had, a princess wrought it me-- +And I did never ask it you again; +And with my hand at midnight held your head, +And like the watchful minutes to the hour +Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, +Saying "What lack you?" and "Where lies your +grief?" +Or "What good love may I perform for you?" +Many a poor man's son would have lien still +And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; +But you at your sick service had a prince. +Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, +And call it cunning. Do, an if you will. +If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, +Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes-- +These eyes that never did nor never shall +So much as frown on you? + +HUBERT I have sworn to do it. +And with hot irons must I burn them out. + +ARTHUR +Ah, none but in this Iron Age would do it. +The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, +Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears +And quench this fiery indignation +Even in the matter of mine innocence; +Nay, after that, consume away in rust +But for containing fire to harm mine eye. +Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? +An if an angel should have come to me +And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes, +I would not have believed him. No tongue but +Hubert's. + +HUBERT [stamps his foot and calls] Come forth. + +[Enter Executioners with ropes, a heated iron, and a +brazier of burning coals.] + +Do as I bid you do. + +ARTHUR +O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out +Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. + +HUBERT +Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. +[He takes the iron.] + +ARTHUR +Alas, what need you be so boist'rous-rough? +I will not struggle; I will stand stone-still. +For God's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! +Nay, hear me, Hubert! Drive these men away, +And I will sit as quiet as a lamb. +I will not stir nor wince nor speak a word +Nor look upon the iron angerly. +Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, +Whatever torment you do put me to. + +HUBERT, [to Executioners] +Go stand within. Let me alone with him. + +EXECUTIONER +I am best pleased to be from such a deed. +[Executioners exit.] + +ARTHUR +Alas, I then have chid away my friend! +He hath a stern look but a gentle heart. +Let him come back, that his compassion may +Give life to yours. + +HUBERT Come, boy, prepare yourself. + +ARTHUR +Is there no remedy? + +HUBERT None but to lose your eyes. + +ARTHUR +O God, that there were but a mote in yours, +A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, +Any annoyance in that precious sense. +Then, feeling what small things are boisterous +there, +Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. + +HUBERT +Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue. + +ARTHUR +Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues +Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes. +Let me not hold my tongue. Let me not, Hubert, +Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, +So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes, +Though to no use but still to look on you. +[He seizes the iron.] +Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, +And would not harm me. + +HUBERT, [taking back the iron] +I can heat it, boy. + +ARTHUR +No, in good sooth. The fire is dead with grief, +Being create for comfort, to be used +In undeserved extremes. See else yourself. +There is no malice in this burning coal. +The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out +And strewed repentant ashes on his head. + +HUBERT +But with my breath I can revive it, boy. + +ARTHUR +An if you do, you will but make it blush +And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert. +Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes, +And, like a dog that is compelled to fight, +Snatch at his master that doth tar him on. +All things that you should use to do me wrong +Deny their office. Only you do lack +That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, +Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses. + +HUBERT +Well, see to live. I will not touch thine eye +For all the treasure that thine uncle owes. +Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, +With this same very iron to burn them out. + +ARTHUR +O, now you look like Hubert. All this while +You were disguised. + +HUBERT Peace. No more. Adieu. +Your uncle must not know but you are dead. +I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports. +And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure +That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, +Will not offend thee. + +ARTHUR O heaven! I thank you, Hubert. + +HUBERT +Silence. No more. Go closely in with me. +Much danger do I undergo for thee. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other +Lords. King John ascends the throne.] + + +KING JOHN +Here once again we sit, once again crowned +And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. + +PEMBROKE +This "once again," but that your Highness pleased, +Was once superfluous. You were crowned before, +And that high royalty was ne'er plucked off, +The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt; +Fresh expectation troubled not the land +With any longed-for change or better state. + +SALISBURY +Therefore, to be possessed with double pomp, +To guard a title that was rich before, +To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, +To throw a perfume on the violet, +To smooth the ice or add another hue +Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light +To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, +Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. + +PEMBROKE +But that your royal pleasure must be done, +This act is as an ancient tale new told, +And, in the last repeating, troublesome, +Being urged at a time unseasonable. + +SALISBURY +In this the antique and well-noted face +Of plain old form is much disfigured, +And like a shifted wind unto a sail, +It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about, +Startles and frights consideration, +Makes sound opinion sick and truth suspected +For putting on so new a fashioned robe. + +PEMBROKE +When workmen strive to do better than well, +They do confound their skill in covetousness, +And oftentimes excusing of a fault +Doth make the fault the worse by th' excuse, +As patches set upon a little breach +Discredit more in hiding of the fault +Than did the fault before it was so patched. + +SALISBURY +To this effect, before you were new-crowned, +We breathed our counsel; but it pleased your +Highness +To overbear it, and we are all well pleased, +Since all and every part of what we would +Doth make a stand at what your Highness will. + +KING JOHN +Some reasons of this double coronation +I have possessed you with, and think them strong; +And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear, +I shall endue you with. Meantime, but ask +What you would have reformed that is not well, +And well shall you perceive how willingly +I will both hear and grant you your requests. + +PEMBROKE +Then I, as one that am the tongue of these +To sound the purposes of all their hearts, +Both for myself and them, but chief of all +Your safety, for the which myself and them +Bend their best studies, heartily request +Th' enfranchisement of Arthur, whose restraint +Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent +To break into this dangerous argument: +If what in rest you have in right you hold, +Why then your fears, which, as they say, attend +The steps of wrong, should move you to mew up +Your tender kinsman and to choke his days +With barbarous ignorance and deny his youth +The rich advantage of good exercise. +That the time's enemies may not have this +To grace occasions, let it be our suit +That you have bid us ask, his liberty, +Which for our goods we do no further ask +Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, +Counts it your weal he have his liberty. + +KING JOHN +Let it be so. I do commit his youth +To your direction. + +[Enter Hubert.] + +Hubert, what news with you? +[King John and Hubert talk aside.] + +PEMBROKE +This is the man should do the bloody deed. +He showed his warrant to a friend of mine. +The image of a wicked heinous fault +Lives in his eye. That close aspect of his +Doth show the mood of a much troubled breast, +And I do fearfully believe 'tis done +What we so feared he had a charge to do. + +SALISBURY +The color of the King doth come and go +Between his purpose and his conscience, +Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set. +His passion is so ripe it needs must break. + +PEMBROKE +And when it breaks, I fear will issue thence +The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. + +KING JOHN, [coming forward with Hubert] +We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.-- +Good lords, although my will to give is living, +The suit which you demand is gone and dead. +He tells us Arthur is deceased tonight. + +SALISBURY +Indeed, we feared his sickness was past cure. + +PEMBROKE +Indeed, we heard how near his death he was +Before the child himself felt he was sick. +This must be answered either here or hence. + +KING JOHN +Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? +Think you I bear the shears of destiny? +Have I commandment on the pulse of life? + +SALISBURY +It is apparent foul play, and 'tis shame +That greatness should so grossly offer it. +So thrive it in your game, and so farewell. + +PEMBROKE +Stay yet, Lord Salisbury. I'll go with thee +And find th' inheritance of this poor child, +His little kingdom of a forced grave. +That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle, +Three foot of it doth hold. Bad world the while! +This must not be thus borne; this will break out +To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt. +[Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords exit.] + +KING JOHN +They burn in indignation. I repent. +There is no sure foundation set on blood, +No certain life achieved by others' death. + +[Enter Messenger.] + +A fearful eye thou hast. Where is that blood +That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? +So foul a sky clears not without a storm. +Pour down thy weather: how goes all in France? + +MESSENGER +From France to England. Never such a power +For any foreign preparation +Was levied in the body of a land. +The copy of your speed is learned by them, +For when you should be told they do prepare, +The tidings comes that they are all arrived. + +KING JOHN +O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? +Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care, +That such an army could be drawn in France +And she not hear of it? + +MESSENGER My liege, her ear +Is stopped with dust. The first of April died +Your noble mother. And as I hear, my lord, +The Lady Constance in a frenzy died +Three days before. But this from rumor's tongue +I idly heard. If true or false, I know not. + +KING JOHN, [aside] +Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion! +O, make a league with me till I have pleased +My discontented peers. What? Mother dead? +How wildly then walks my estate in France!-- +Under whose conduct came those powers of France +That thou for truth giv'st out are landed here? + +MESSENGER +Under the Dauphin. + +KING JOHN Thou hast made me giddy +With these ill tidings. + +[Enter Bastard and Peter of Pomfret.] + +[To Bastard.] Now, what says the world +To your proceedings? Do not seek to stuff +My head with more ill news, for it is full. + +BASTARD +But if you be afeard to hear the worst, +Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head. + +KING JOHN +Bear with me, cousin, for I was amazed +Under the tide, but now I breathe again +Aloft the flood and can give audience +To any tongue, speak it of what it will. + +BASTARD +How I have sped among the clergymen +The sums I have collected shall express. +But as I traveled hither through the land, +I find the people strangely fantasied, +Possessed with rumors, full of idle dreams, +Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear. +And here's a prophet that I brought with me +From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found +With many hundreds treading on his heels, +To whom he sung in rude harsh-sounding rhymes +That ere the next Ascension Day at noon, +Your Highness should deliver up your crown. + +KING JOHN, [to Peter] +Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so? + +PETER +Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so. + +KING JOHN +Hubert, away with him! Imprison him. +And on that day at noon, whereon he says +I shall yield up my crown, let him be hanged. +Deliver him to safety and return, +For I must use thee. [Hubert and Peter exit.] +O my gentle cousin, +Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arrived? + +BASTARD +The French, my lord. Men's mouths are full of it. +Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury +With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire, +And others more, going to seek the grave +Of Arthur, whom they say is killed tonight +On your suggestion. + +KING JOHN Gentle kinsman, go +And thrust thyself into their companies. +I have a way to win their loves again. +Bring them before me. + +BASTARD I will seek them out. + +KING JOHN +Nay, but make haste, the better foot before! +O, let me have no subject enemies +When adverse foreigners affright my towns +With dreadful pomp of stout invasion. +Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels, +And fly like thought from them to me again. + +BASTARD +The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. +[He exits.] + +KING JOHN +Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman. +[To Messenger.] Go after him, for he perhaps shall +need +Some messenger betwixt me and the peers, +And be thou he. + +MESSENGER With all my heart, my liege. +[Messenger exits.] + +KING JOHN My mother dead! + +[Enter Hubert.] + + +HUBERT +My lord, they say five moons were seen tonight-- +Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about +The other four in wondrous motion. + +KING JOHN +Five moons! + +HUBERT Old men and beldams in the streets +Do prophesy upon it dangerously. +Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths, +And when they talk of him, they shake their heads +And whisper one another in the ear, +And he that speaks doth grip the hearer's wrist, +Whilst he that hears makes fearful action +With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. +I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, +The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, +With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news, +Who with his shears and measure in his hand, +Standing on slippers which his nimble haste +Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet, +Told of a many thousand warlike French +That were embattled and ranked in Kent. +Another lean, unwashed artificer +Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death. + +KING JOHN +Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears? +Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? +Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause +To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him. + +HUBERT +No had, my lord! Why, did you not provoke me? + +KING JOHN +It is the curse of kings to be attended +By slaves that take their humors for a warrant +To break within the bloody house of life, +And on the winking of authority +To understand a law, to know the meaning +Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns +More upon humor than advised respect. + +HUBERT, [showing a paper] +Here is your hand and seal for what I did. + +KING JOHN +O, when the last accompt twixt heaven and Earth +Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal +Witness against us to damnation! +How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds +Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by, +A fellow by the hand of nature marked, +Quoted, and signed to do a deed of shame, +This murder had not come into my mind. +But taking note of thy abhorred aspect, +Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, +Apt, liable to be employed in danger, +I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death; +And thou, to be endeared to a king, +Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. + +HUBERT My lord-- + +KING JOHN +Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause +When I spake darkly what I purposed, +Or turned an eye of doubt upon my face, +As bid me tell my tale in express words, +Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break +off, +And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me. +But thou didst understand me by my signs +And didst in signs again parley with sin, +Yea, without stop didst let thy heart consent +And consequently thy rude hand to act +The deed which both our tongues held vile to name. +Out of my sight, and never see me more. +My nobles leave me, and my state is braved, +Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers. +Nay, in the body of this fleshly land, +This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, +Hostility and civil tumult reigns +Between my conscience and my cousin's death. + +HUBERT +Arm you against your other enemies. +I'll make a peace between your soul and you. +Young Arthur is alive. This hand of mine +Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand, +Not painted with the crimson spots of blood. +Within this bosom never entered yet +The dreadful motion of a murderous thought, +And you have slandered nature in my form, +Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, +Is yet the cover of a fairer mind +Than to be butcher of an innocent child. + +KING JOHN +Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers, +Throw this report on their incensed rage, +And make them tame to their obedience. +Forgive the comment that my passion made +Upon thy feature, for my rage was blind, +And foul imaginary eyes of blood +Presented thee more hideous than thou art. +O, answer not, but to my closet bring +The angry lords with all expedient haste. +I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Arthur on the walls, dressed as a shipboy.] + + +ARTHUR +The wall is high, and yet will I leap down. +Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not. +There's few or none do know me. If they did, +This shipboy's semblance hath disguised me quite. +I am afraid, and yet I'll venture it. +If I get down and do not break my limbs, +I'll find a thousand shifts to get away. +As good to die and go as die and stay. +[He jumps.] +O me, my uncle's spirit is in these stones. +Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones. +[He dies.] + +[Enter Pembroke, Salisbury with a letter, and Bigot.] + + +SALISBURY +Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury; +It is our safety, and we must embrace +This gentle offer of the perilous time. + +PEMBROKE +Who brought that letter from the Cardinal? + +SALISBURY +The Count Melun, a noble lord of France, +Whose private with me of the Dauphin's love +Is much more general than these lines import. + +BIGOT +Tomorrow morning let us meet him, then. + +SALISBURY +Or rather then set forward, for 'twill be +Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet. + +[Enter Bastard.] + + +BASTARD +Once more today well met, distempered lords. +The King by me requests your presence straight. + +SALISBURY +The King hath dispossessed himself of us. +We will not line his thin bestained cloak +With our pure honors, nor attend the foot +That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks. +Return, and tell him so. We know the worst. + +BASTARD +Whate'er you think, good words I think were best. + +SALISBURY +Our griefs and not our manners reason now. + +BASTARD +But there is little reason in your grief. +Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now. + +PEMBROKE +Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. + +BASTARD +'Tis true, to hurt his master, no man's else. + +SALISBURY +This is the prison. +[He sees Arthur's body.] +What is he lies here? + +PEMBROKE +O Death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! +The Earth had not a hole to hide this deed. + +SALISBURY +Murder, as hating what himself hath done, +Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. + +BIGOT +Or when he doomed this beauty to a grave, +Found it too precious-princely for a grave. + +SALISBURY, [to Bastard] +Sir Richard, what think you? You have beheld. +Or have you read or heard, or could you think, +Or do you almost think, although you see, +That you do see? Could thought, without this object, +Form such another? This is the very top, +The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, +Of murder's arms. This is the bloodiest shame, +The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke +That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage +Presented to the tears of soft remorse. + +PEMBROKE +All murders past do stand excused in this. +And this, so sole and so unmatchable, +Shall give a holiness, a purity, +To the yet unbegotten sin of times +And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, +Exampled by this heinous spectacle. + +BASTARD +It is a damned and a bloody work, +The graceless action of a heavy hand, +If that it be the work of any hand. + +SALISBURY +If that it be the work of any hand? +We had a kind of light what would ensue. +It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand, +The practice and the purpose of the King, +From whose obedience I forbid my soul, +Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life [He kneels.] +And breathing to his breathless excellence +The incense of a vow, a holy vow: +Never to taste the pleasures of the world, +Never to be infected with delight, +Nor conversant with ease and idleness, +Till I have set a glory to this hand +By giving it the worship of revenge. + +PEMBROKE, BIGOT, [kneeling] +Our souls religiously confirm thy words. +[They rise.] + +[Enter Hubert.] + + +HUBERT +Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. +Arthur doth live; the King hath sent for you. + +SALISBURY +O, he is bold and blushes not at death!-- +Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! + +HUBERT +I am no villain. + +SALISBURY, [drawing his sword] Must I rob the law? + +BASTARD +Your sword is bright, sir. Put it up again. + +SALISBURY +Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin. + +HUBERT +Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say. +By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours. +[He puts his hand on his sword.] +I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, +Nor tempt the danger of my true defense, +Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget +Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. + +BIGOT +Out, dunghill! Dar'st thou brave a nobleman? + +HUBERT +Not for my life. But yet I dare defend +My innocent life against an emperor. + +SALISBURY +Thou art a murderer. + +HUBERT Do not prove me so. +Yet I am none. Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, +Not truly speaks. Who speaks not truly, lies. + +PEMBROKE, [drawing his sword] +Cut him to pieces. + +BASTARD, [drawing his sword] Keep the peace, I say. + +SALISBURY +Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge. + +BASTARD +Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury. +If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, +Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, +I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime, +Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron +That you shall think the devil is come from hell. + +BIGOT +What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge? +Second a villain and a murderer? + +HUBERT +Lord Bigot, I am none. + +BIGOT Who killed this prince? + +HUBERT +'Tis not an hour since I left him well. +I honored him, I loved him, and will weep +My date of life out for his sweet life's loss. +[He weeps.] + +SALISBURY +Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, +For villainy is not without such rheum, +And he, long traded in it, makes it seem +like rivers of remorse and innocency. +Away with me, all you whose souls abhor +Th' uncleanly savors of a slaughterhouse, +For I am stifled with this smell of sin. + +BIGOT +Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there. + +PEMBROKE +There, tell the King, he may inquire us out. +[Lords exit.] + +BASTARD +Here's a good world! Knew you of this fair work? +Beyond the infinite and boundless reach +Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, +Art thou damned, Hubert. + +HUBERT Do but hear me, sir. + +BASTARD Ha! I'll tell thee what. +Thou 'rt damned as black--nay, nothing is so black-- +Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer. +There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell +As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. + +HUBERT +Upon my soul-- + +BASTARD If thou didst but consent +To this most cruel act, do but despair, +And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread +That ever spider twisted from her womb +Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam +To hang thee on. Or wouldst thou drown thyself, +Put but a little water in a spoon +And it shall be as all the ocean, +Enough to stifle such a villain up. +I do suspect thee very grievously. + +HUBERT +If I in act, consent, or sin of thought +Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath +Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, +Let hell want pains enough to torture me. +I left him well. + +BASTARD Go, bear him in thine arms. +I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way +Among the thorns and dangers of this world. +[Hubert takes up Arthur's body.] +How easy dost thou take all England up! +From forth this morsel of dead royalty, +The life, the right, and truth of all this realm +Is fled to heaven, and England now is left +To tug and scamble and to part by th' teeth +The unowed interest of proud-swelling state. +Now for the bare-picked bone of majesty +Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest +And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace. +Now powers from home and discontents at home +Meet in one line, and vast confusion waits, +As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast, +The imminent decay of wrested pomp. +Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can +Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, +And follow me with speed. I'll to the King. +A thousand businesses are brief in hand, +And heaven itself doth frown upon the land. +[They exit, with Hubert carrying Arthur's body.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King John and Pandulph with the crown, and +their Attendants.] + + +KING JOHN +Thus have I yielded up into your hand +The circle of my glory. + +PANDULPH, [handing John the crown] Take again +From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, +Your sovereign greatness and authority. + +KING JOHN +Now keep your holy word. Go meet the French, +And from his Holiness use all your power +To stop their marches 'fore we are inflamed. +Our discontented counties do revolt, +Our people quarrel with obedience, +Swearing allegiance and the love of soul +To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. +This inundation of mistempered humor +Rests by you only to be qualified. +Then pause not, for the present time's so sick +That present med'cine must be ministered, +Or overthrow incurable ensues. + +PANDULPH +It was my breath that blew this tempest up, +Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope; +But since you are a gentle convertite, +My tongue shall hush again this storm of war +And make fair weather in your blust'ring land. +On this Ascension Day, remember well: +Upon your oath of service to the Pope, +Go I to make the French lay down their arms. +[He exits, with Attendants.] + +KING JOHN +Is this Ascension Day? Did not the prophet +Say that before Ascension Day at noon +My crown I should give off? Even so I have. +I did suppose it should be on constraint, +But, God be thanked, it is but voluntary. + +[Enter Bastard.] + + +BASTARD +All Kent hath yielded. Nothing there holds out +But Dover Castle. London hath received +Like a kind host the Dauphin and his powers. +Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone +To offer service to your enemy; +And wild amazement hurries up and down +The little number of your doubtful friends. + +KING JOHN +Would not my lords return to me again +After they heard young Arthur was alive? + +BASTARD +They found him dead and cast into the streets, +An empty casket where the jewel of life +By some damned hand was robbed and ta'en away. + +KING JOHN +That villain Hubert told me he did live! + +BASTARD +So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. +But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad? +Be great in act, as you have been in thought. +Let not the world see fear and sad distrust +Govern the motion of a kingly eye. +Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; +Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow +Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes, +That borrow their behaviors from the great, +Grow great by your example and put on +The dauntless spirit of resolution. +Away, and glister like the god of war +When he intendeth to become the field. +Show boldness and aspiring confidence. +What, shall they seek the lion in his den +And fright him there? And make him tremble there? +O, let it not be said! Forage, and run +To meet displeasure farther from the doors, +And grapple with him ere he come so nigh. + +KING JOHN +The legate of the Pope hath been with me, +And I have made a happy peace with him, +And he hath promised to dismiss the powers +Led by the Dauphin. + +BASTARD O inglorious league! +Shall we upon the footing of our land +Send fair-play orders and make compromise, +Insinuation, parley, and base truce +To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, +A cockered silken wanton, brave our fields +And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, +Mocking the air with colors idly spread, +And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms! +Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace; +Or if he do, let it at least be said +They saw we had a purpose of defense. + +KING JOHN +Have thou the ordering of this present time. + +BASTARD +Away, then, with good courage! [(Aside.)] Yet I +know +Our party may well meet a prouder foe. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter, in arms, Louis the Dauphin, Salisbury, Melun, +Pembroke, Bigot, and French and English Soldiers.] + + +DAUPHIN, [handing a paper to Melun] +My Lord Melun, let this be copied out, +And keep it safe for our remembrance. +Return the precedent to these lords again, +That having our fair order written down, +Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes, +May know wherefore we took the Sacrament, +And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. + +SALISBURY +Upon our sides it never shall be broken. +And, noble dauphin, albeit we swear +A voluntary zeal and unurged faith +To your proceedings, yet believe me, prince, +I am not glad that such a sore of time +Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt +And heal the inveterate canker of one wound +By making many. O, it grieves my soul +That I must draw this metal from my side +To be a widow-maker! O, and there +Where honorable rescue and defense +Cries out upon the name of Salisbury! +But such is the infection of the time +That for the health and physic of our right, +We cannot deal but with the very hand +Of stern injustice and confused wrong. +And is 't not pity, O my grieved friends, +That we, the sons and children of this isle, +Was born to see so sad an hour as this, +Wherein we step after a stranger, march +Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up +Her enemies' ranks? I must withdraw and weep +Upon the spot of this enforced cause, +To grace the gentry of a land remote, +And follow unacquainted colors here. +What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove, +That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, +Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself +And grapple thee unto a pagan shore, +Where these two Christian armies might combine +The blood of malice in a vein of league, +And not to spend it so unneighborly. [He weeps.] + +DAUPHIN +A noble temper dost thou show in this, +And great affections wrestling in thy bosom +Doth make an earthquake of nobility. +O, what a noble combat hast thou fought +Between compulsion and a brave respect! +Let me wipe off this honorable dew +That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. +My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, +Being an ordinary inundation, +But this effusion of such manly drops, +This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, +Startles mine eyes and makes me more amazed +Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven +Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. +Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, +And with a great heart heave away this storm. +Commend these waters to those baby eyes +That never saw the giant world enraged, +Nor met with fortune other than at feasts +Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. +Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep +Into the purse of rich prosperity +As Louis himself.--So, nobles, shall you all, +That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. +And even there, methinks, an angel spake. + +[Enter Pandulph.] + +Look where the holy legate comes apace +To give us warrant from the hand of God, +And on our actions set the name of right +With holy breath. + +PANDULPH Hail, noble prince of France. +The next is this: King John hath reconciled +Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in +That so stood out against the holy Church, +The great metropolis and See of Rome. +Therefore thy threat'ning colors now wind up, +And tame the savage spirit of wild war +That, like a lion fostered up at hand, +It may lie gently at the foot of peace +And be no further harmful than in show. + +DAUPHIN +Your Grace shall pardon me; I will not back. +I am too high-born to be propertied, +To be a secondary at control, +Or useful servingman and instrument +To any sovereign state throughout the world. +Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars +Between this chastised kingdom and myself +And brought in matter that should feed this fire; +And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out +With that same weak wind which enkindled it. +You taught me how to know the face of right, +Acquainted me with interest to this land, +Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart. +And come you now to tell me John hath made +His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? +I, by the honor of my marriage bed, +After young Arthur claim this land for mine. +And now it is half conquered, must I back +Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? +Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne? +What men provided? What munition sent +To underprop this action? Is 't not I +That undergo this charge? Who else but I, +And such as to my claim are liable, +Sweat in this business and maintain this war? +Have I not heard these islanders shout out +"Vive le Roi" as I have banked their towns? +Have I not here the best cards for the game +To win this easy match played for a crown? +And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? +No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said. + +PANDULPH +You look but on the outside of this work. + +DAUPHIN +Outside or inside, I will not return +Till my attempt so much be glorified +As to my ample hope was promised +Before I drew this gallant head of war +And culled these fiery spirits from the world +To outlook conquest and to win renown +Even in the jaws of danger and of death. +[A trumpet sounds.] +What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? + +[Enter Bastard.] + + +BASTARD +According to the fair play of the world, +Let me have audience. I am sent to speak, +My holy lord of Milan, from the King. +I come to learn how you have dealt for him, +And, as you answer, I do know the scope +And warrant limited unto my tongue. + +PANDULPH +The Dauphin is too willful-opposite +And will not temporize with my entreaties. +He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms. + +BASTARD +By all the blood that ever fury breathed, +The youth says well! Now hear our English king, +For thus his royalty doth speak in me: +He is prepared--and reason too he should. +This apish and unmannerly approach, +This harnessed masque and unadvised revel, +This unheard sauciness and boyish troops, +The King doth smile at, and is well prepared +To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, +From out the circle of his territories. +That hand which had the strength, even at your door, +To cudgel you and make you take the hatch, +To dive like buckets in concealed wells, +To crouch in litter of your stable planks, +To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks, +To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out +In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake +Even at the crying of your nation's crow, +Thinking this voice an armed Englishman-- +Shall that victorious hand be feebled here +That in your chambers gave you chastisement? +No! Know the gallant monarch is in arms, +And like an eagle o'er his aerie towers +To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.-- +And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, +You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb +Of your dear mother England, blush for shame! +For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids +Like Amazons come tripping after drums, +Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, +Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts +To fierce and bloody inclination. + +DAUPHIN +There end thy brave and turn thy face in peace. +We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well. +We hold our time too precious to be spent +With such a brabbler. + +PANDULPH Give me leave to speak. + +BASTARD +No, I will speak. + +DAUPHIN We will attend to neither. +Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war +Plead for our interest and our being here. + +BASTARD +Indeed, your drums being beaten will cry out, +And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start +An echo with the clamor of thy drum, +And even at hand a drum is ready braced +That shall reverberate all as loud as thine. +Sound but another, and another shall, +As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear +And mock the deep-mouthed thunder. For at hand, +Not trusting to this halting legate here, +Whom he hath used rather for sport than need, +Is warlike John, and in his forehead sits +A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day +To feast upon whole thousands of the French. + +DAUPHIN +Strike up our drums to find this danger out. + +BASTARD +And thou shalt find it, dauphin, do not doubt. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert.] + + +KING JOHN +How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert. + +HUBERT +Badly, I fear. How fares your Majesty? + +KING JOHN +This fever that hath troubled me so long +Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, +Desires your Majesty to leave the field +And send him word by me which way you go. + +KING JOHN +Tell him toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. + +MESSENGER +Be of good comfort, for the great supply +That was expected by the Dauphin here +Are wracked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. +This news was brought to Richard but even now. +The French fight coldly and retire themselves. + +KING JOHN +Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up +And will not let me welcome this good news. +Set on toward Swinstead. To my litter straight. +Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot.] + + +SALISBURY +I did not think the King so stored with friends. + +PEMBROKE +Up once again. Put spirit in the French. +If they miscarry, we miscarry too. + +SALISBURY +That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, +In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. + +PEMBROKE +They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field. + +[Enter Melun, wounded, led by a Soldier.] + + +MELUN +Lead me to the revolts of England here. + +SALISBURY +When we were happy, we had other names. + +PEMBROKE +It is the Count Melun. + +SALISBURY Wounded to death. + +MELUN +Fly, noble English; you are bought and sold. +Unthread the rude eye of rebellion +And welcome home again discarded faith. +Seek out King John and fall before his feet, +For if the French be lords of this loud day, +He means to recompense the pains you take +By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, +And I with him, and many more with me, +Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury, +Even on that altar where we swore to you +Dear amity and everlasting love. + +SALISBURY +May this be possible? May this be true? + +MELUN +Have I not hideous death within my view, +Retaining but a quantity of life, +Which bleeds away even as a form of wax +Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire? +What in the world should make me now deceive, +Since I must lose the use of all deceit? +Why should I then be false, since it is true +That I must die here and live hence by truth? +I say again, if Louis do win the day, +He is forsworn if e'er those eyes of yours +Behold another daybreak in the East. +But even this night, whose black contagious breath +Already smokes about the burning crest +Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, +Even this ill night your breathing shall expire, +Paying the fine of rated treachery +Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, +If Louis by your assistance win the day. +Commend me to one Hubert with your king; +The love of him, and this respect besides, +For that my grandsire was an Englishman, +Awakes my conscience to confess all this. +In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence +From forth the noise and rumor of the field, +Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts +In peace, and part this body and my soul +With contemplation and devout desires. + +SALISBURY +We do believe thee, and beshrew my soul +But I do love the favor and the form +Of this most fair occasion, by the which +We will untread the steps of damned flight, +And like a bated and retired flood, +Leaving our rankness and irregular course, +Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlooked +And calmly run on in obedience +Even to our ocean, to our great King John. +My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, +For I do see the cruel pangs of death +Right in thine eye.--Away, my friends! New flight, +And happy newness, that intends old right. +[They exit, assisting Melun.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Louis, the Dauphin and his train.] + + +DAUPHIN +The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set, +But stayed and made the western welkin blush, +When English measured backward their own +ground +In faint retire. O, bravely came we off, +When with a volley of our needless shot, +After such bloody toil, we bid good night +And wound our tott'ring colors clearly up, +Last in the field and almost lords of it. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Where is my prince, the Dauphin? + +DAUPHIN Here. What news? + +MESSENGER +The Count Melun is slain. The English lords, +By his persuasion, are again fall'n off, +And your supply, which you have wished so long, +Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands. + +DAUPHIN +Ah, foul, shrewd news. Beshrew thy very heart! +I did not think to be so sad tonight +As this hath made me. Who was he that said +King John did fly an hour or two before +The stumbling night did part our weary powers? + +MESSENGER +Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord. + +DAUPHIN +Well, keep good quarter and good care tonight. +The day shall not be up so soon as I +To try the fair adventure of tomorrow. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Bastard and Hubert, severally.] + + +HUBERT +Who's there? Speak ho! Speak quickly, or I shoot. + +BASTARD +A friend. What art thou? + +HUBERT Of the part of England. + +BASTARD +Whither dost thou go? + +HUBERT What's that to thee? + +BASTARD +Why may not I demand of thine affairs +As well as thou of mine? Hubert, I think? + +HUBERT Thou hast a perfect thought. +I will upon all hazards well believe +Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well. +Who art thou? + +BASTARD Who thou wilt. An if thou please, +Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think +I come one way of the Plantagenets. + +HUBERT +Unkind remembrance! Thou and endless night +Have done me shame. Brave soldier, pardon me +That any accent breaking from thy tongue +Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. + +BASTARD +Come, come. Sans compliment, what news abroad? + +HUBERT +Why, here walk I in the black brow of night +To find you out. + +BASTARD Brief, then; and what's the news? + +HUBERT +O my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, +Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. + +BASTARD +Show me the very wound of this ill news. +I am no woman; I'll not swoon at it. + +HUBERT +The King, I fear, is poisoned by a monk. +I left him almost speechless, and broke out +To acquaint you with this evil, that you might +The better arm you to the sudden time +Than if you had at leisure known of this. + +BASTARD +How did he take it? Who did taste to him? + +HUBERT +A monk, I tell you, a resolved villain, +Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The King +Yet speaks and peradventure may recover. + +BASTARD +Who didst thou leave to tend his Majesty? + +HUBERT +Why, know you not? The lords are all come back, +And brought Prince Henry in their company, +At whose request the King hath pardoned them, +And they are all about his Majesty. + +BASTARD +Withhold thine indignation, mighty God, +And tempt us not to bear above our power. +I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, +Passing these flats, are taken by the tide. +These Lincoln Washes have devoured them. +Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped. +Away before. Conduct me to the King. +I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot.] + + +PRINCE HENRY +It is too late. The life of all his blood +Is touched corruptibly, and his pure brain, +Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house, +Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, +Foretell the ending of mortality. + +[Enter Pembroke.] + + +PEMBROKE +His Highness yet doth speak, and holds belief +That being brought into the open air +It would allay the burning quality +Of that fell poison which assaileth him. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let him be brought into the orchard here. +[Bigot exits.] +Doth he still rage? + +PEMBROKE He is more patient +Than when you left him. Even now he sung. + +PRINCE HENRY +O vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes +In their continuance will not feel themselves. +Death, having preyed upon the outward parts, +Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now +Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds +With many legions of strange fantasies, +Which in their throng and press to that last hold +Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that Death should +sing. +I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, +Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, +And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings +His soul and body to their lasting rest. + +SALISBURY +Be of good comfort, prince, for you are born +To set a form upon that indigest +Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. + +[King John brought in, attended by Bigot.] + + +KING JOHN +Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room. +It would not out at windows nor at doors. +There is so hot a summer in my bosom +That all my bowels crumble up to dust. +I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen +Upon a parchment, and against this fire +Do I shrink up. + +PRINCE HENRY How fares your Majesty? + +KING JOHN +Poisoned--ill fare--dead, forsook, cast off, +And none of you will bid the winter come +To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, +Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course +Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the North +To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips +And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much. +I beg cold comfort, and you are so strait +And so ingrateful, you deny me that. + +PRINCE HENRY +O, that there were some virtue in my tears +That might relieve you! + +KING JOHN The salt in them is hot. +Within me is a hell, and there the poison +Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize +On unreprievable, condemned blood. + +[Enter Bastard.] + + +BASTARD +O, I am scalded with my violent motion +And spleen of speed to see your Majesty. + +KING JOHN +O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. +The tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt, +And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail +Are turned to one thread, one little hair. +My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, +Which holds but till thy news be uttered, +And then all this thou seest is but a clod +And module of confounded royalty. + +BASTARD +The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, +Where God He knows how we shall answer him. +For in a night the best part of my power, +As I upon advantage did remove, +Were in the Washes all unwarily +Devoured by the unexpected flood. +[King John dies.] + +SALISBURY +You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.-- +My liege! My lord!--But now a king, now thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even so must I run on, and even so stop. +What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, +When this was now a king and now is clay? + +BASTARD +Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind +To do the office for thee of revenge, +And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, +As it on Earth hath been thy servant still.-- +Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, +Where be your powers? Show now your mended +faiths +And instantly return with me again +To push destruction and perpetual shame +Out of the weak door of our fainting land. +Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; +The Dauphin rages at our very heels. + +SALISBURY +It seems you know not, then, so much as we. +The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, +Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin, +And brings from him such offers of our peace +As we with honor and respect may take, +With purpose presently to leave this war. + +BASTARD +He will the rather do it when he sees +Ourselves well-sinewed to our defense. + +SALISBURY +Nay, 'tis in a manner done already, +For many carriages he hath dispatched +To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel +To the disposing of the Cardinal, +With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, +If you think meet, this afternoon will post +To consummate this business happily. + +BASTARD +Let it be so.--And you, my noble prince, +With other princes that may best be spared, +Shall wait upon your father's funeral. + +PRINCE HENRY +At Worcester must his body be interred, +For so he willed it. + +BASTARD Thither shall it, then, +And happily may your sweet self put on +The lineal state and glory of the land, +To whom with all submission on my knee +I do bequeath my faithful services +And true subjection everlastingly. [He kneels.] + +SALISBURY +And the like tender of our love we make +To rest without a spot forevermore. +[Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot kneel.] + +PRINCE HENRY +I have a kind soul that would give you thanks +And knows not how to do it but with tears. +[They rise.] + +BASTARD +O, let us pay the time but needful woe, +Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. +This England never did nor never shall +Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror +But when it first did help to wound itself. +Now these her princes are come home again, +Come the three corners of the world in arms +And we shall shock them. Naught shall make us rue, +If England to itself do rest but true. +[They exit, bearing the body of King John.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/king-lear_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/king-lear_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..280b12c --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/king-lear_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5563 @@ +King Lear +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/king-lear/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +LEAR, king of Britain +GONERIL, Lear's eldest daughter +DUKE OF ALBANY, her husband +OSWALD, her steward +REGAN, Lear's second daughter +DUKE OF CORNWALL, her husband +CORDELIA, Lear's youngest daughter +KING OF FRANCE, her suitor and then husband +DUKE OF BURGUNDY, her suitor +EARL OF KENT +FOOL +EARL OF GLOUCESTER +EDGAR, his elder son +EDMUND, his younger and illegitimate son +CURAN, gentleman of Gloucester's household +OLD MAN, a tenant of Gloucester's +KNIGHT, serving Lear +GENTLEMEN +Three SERVANTS +MESSENGERS +DOCTOR +CAPTAINS +HERALD +Knights in Lear's train, Servants, Officers, Soldiers, Attendants, Gentlemen + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund.] + + +KENT I thought the King had more affected the Duke +of Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER It did always seem so to us, but now in +the division of the kingdom, it appears not which +of the dukes he values most, for equalities are so +weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER His breeding, sir, hath been at my +charge. I have so often blushed to acknowledge +him that now I am brazed to 't. + +KENT I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER Sir, this young fellow's mother could, +whereupon she grew round-wombed and had indeed, +sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband +for her bed. Do you smell a fault? + +KENT I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER But I have a son, sir, by order of law, +some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in +my account. Though this knave came something +saucily to the world before he was sent for, yet was +his mother fair, there was good sport at his making, +and the whoreson must be acknowledged.--Do you +know this noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER My lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter +as my honorable friend. + +EDMUND My services to your Lordship. + +KENT I must love you and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER He hath been out nine years, and away he +shall again. [(Sennet.)] The King is coming. + +[Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan, +Cordelia, and Attendants.] + + +LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, +Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER I shall, my lord. [He exits.] + +LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.-- +Give me the map there. [He is handed a map.] +Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom, and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age, +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburdened crawl toward death. Our son of +Cornwall +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. +The two great princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn +And here are to be answered. Tell me, my +daughters-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most, +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than word can wield the +matter, +Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty, +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare, +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable. +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA, [aside] +What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent. + +LEAR, [pointing to the map] +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains riched, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual.--What says our second +daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +I am made of that self mettle as my sister +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short, that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys +Which the most precious square of sense +possesses, +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear Highness' love. + +CORDELIA, [aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so, since I am sure my love's +More ponderous than my tongue. + +LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom, +No less in space, validity, and pleasure +Than that conferred on Goneril.--Now, our joy, +Although our last and least, to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interessed, what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters'? Speak. + +CORDELIA Nothing, my lord. + +LEAR Nothing? + +CORDELIA Nothing. + +LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty +According to my bond, no more nor less. + +LEAR +How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little, +Lest you may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me. +I return those duties back as are right fit: +Obey you, love you, and most honor you. +Why have my sisters husbands if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall +carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty. +Sure I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +LEAR But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA Ay, my good lord. + +LEAR So young and so untender? + +CORDELIA So young, my lord, and true. + +LEAR +Let it be so. Thy truth, then, be thy dower, +For by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate and the night, +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist and cease to be, +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity, and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee from this forever. The barbarous +Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbored, pitied, and relieved +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT Good my liege-- + +LEAR Peace, Kent. +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. [To Cordelia.] Hence and avoid +my sight!-- +So be my grave my peace as here I give +Her father's heart from her.--Call France. Who stirs? +Call Burgundy. [An Attendant exits.] Cornwall and +Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest the third. +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Preeminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights +By you to be sustained, shall our abode +Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain +The name and all th' addition to a king. +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours, which to confirm, +This coronet part between you. + +KENT Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honored as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master followed, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers-- + +LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn. Make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart. Be Kent unmannerly +When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honor's +bound +When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state, +And in thy best consideration check +This hideous rashness. Answer my life my +judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least, +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sounds +Reverb no hollowness. + +LEAR Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thine enemies, nor fear to lose +it, +Thy safety being motive. + +LEAR Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear, and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +LEAR Now, by Apollo-- + +KENT Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +LEAR O vassal! Miscreant! + +ALBANY/CORNWALL Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Kill thy physician, and thy fee bestow +Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift, +Or whilst I can vent clamor from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +LEAR +Hear me, recreant; on thine allegiance, hear me! +That thou hast sought to make us break our vows-- +Which we durst never yet--and with strained pride +To come betwixt our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward: +Five days we do allot thee for provision +To shield thee from disasters of the world, +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom. If on the tenth day following +Thy banished trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king. Sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. +[To Cordelia.] The gods to their dear shelter take +thee, maid, +That justly think'st and hast most rightly said. +[To Goneril and Regan.] And your large speeches +may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love.-- +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu. +He'll shape his old course in a country new. +[He exits.] + +[Flourish. Enter Gloucester with France, and Burgundy, +and Attendants.] + + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +LEAR My lord of Burgundy, +We first address toward you, who with this king +Hath rivaled for our daughter. What in the least +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY Most royal Majesty, +I crave no more than hath your Highness offered, +Nor will you tender less. + +LEAR Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so, +But now her price is fallen. Sir, there she stands. +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced +And nothing more, may fitly like your Grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY I know no answer. + +LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dowered with our curse and strangered with our +oath, +Take her or leave her? + +BURGUNDY Pardon me, royal sir, +Election makes not up in such conditions. + +LEAR +Then leave her, sir, for by the power that made me +I tell you all her wealth.--For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray +To match you where I hate. Therefore beseech you +T' avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom Nature is ashamed +Almost t' acknowledge hers. + +FRANCE This is most strange, +That she whom even but now was your best +object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous to dismantle +So many folds of favor. Sure her offense +Must be of such unnatural degree +That monsters it, or your forevouched affection +Fall into taint; which to believe of her +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Should never plant in me. + +CORDELIA, [to Lear] I yet beseech your Majesty-- +If for I want that glib and oily art +To speak and purpose not, since what I well +intend +I'll do 't before I speak--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action or dishonored step +That hath deprived me of your grace and favor, +But even for want of that for which I am richer: +A still-soliciting eye and such a tongue +That I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +LEAR Better thou +Hadst not been born than not t' have pleased me +better. + +FRANCE +Is it but this--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do?--My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stands +Aloof from th' entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY, [to Lear] Royal king, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +LEAR +Nothing. I have sworn. I am firm. + +BURGUNDY, [to Cordelia] +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA Peace be with +Burgundy. +Since that respect and fortunes are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised, +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon, +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'Tis strange that from their cold'st +neglect +My love should kindle to enflamed respect.-- +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my +chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France. +Not all the dukes of wat'rish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.-- +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind. +Thou losest here a better where to find. + +LEAR +Thou hast her, France. Let her be thine, for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. [To Cordelia.] Therefore +begone +Without our grace, our love, our benison.-- +Come, noble Burgundy. +[Flourish. All but France, Cordelia, +Goneril, and Regan exit.] + +FRANCE Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with washed eyes +Cordelia leaves you. I know you what you are, +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Love well our +father. +To your professed bosoms I commit him; +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duty. + +GONERIL Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At Fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides, +Who covers faults at last with shame derides. +Well may you prosper. + +FRANCE Come, my fair Cordelia. +[France and Cordelia exit.] + +GONERIL Sister, it is not little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence tonight. + +REGAN That's most certain, and with you; next month +with us. + +GONERIL You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little. He always loved our sister most, and with +what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN 'Tis the infirmity of his age. Yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL The best and soundest of his time hath been +but rash. Then must we look from his age to +receive not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with +them. + +REGAN Such unconstant starts are we like to have +from him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL There is further compliment of leave-taking +between France and him. Pray you, let us sit +together. If our father carry authority with such +disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will +but offend us. + +REGAN We shall further think of it. + +GONERIL We must do something, and i' th' heat. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Edmund, the Bastard.] + + +EDMUND +Thou, Nature, art my goddess. To thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines +Lag of a brother? why "bastard"? Wherefore "base," +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous and my shape as true +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With "base," with "baseness," "bastardy," "base," +"base," +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth within a dull, stale, tired bed +Go to th' creating a whole tribe of fops +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land. +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to th' legitimate. Fine word, "legitimate." +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top th' legitimate. I grow, I prosper. +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +[Enter Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banished thus? And France in choler parted? +And the King gone tonight, prescribed his power, +Confined to exhibition? All this done +Upon the gad?--Edmund, how now? What news? + +EDMUND So please your Lordship, none. [He puts a +paper in his pocket.] + +GLOUCESTER Why so earnestly seek you to put up that +letter? + +EDMUND I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER No? What needed then that terrible dispatch +of it into your pocket? The quality of nothing +hath not such need to hide itself. Let's see. Come, if +it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter +from my brother that I have not all o'erread; and +for so much as I have perused, I find it not fit for +your o'erlooking. + +GLOUCESTER Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND I shall offend either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to +blame. + +GLOUCESTER Let's see, let's see. +[Edmund gives him the paper.] + +EDMUND I hope, for my brother's justification, he +wrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER [(reads)] This policy and reverence of age +makes the world bitter to the best of our times, keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the +oppression of aged tyranny, who sways not as it hath +power but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I +may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked +him, you should enjoy half his revenue forever and +live the beloved of your brother. Edgar. +Hum? Conspiracy? "Sleep till I wake him, you +should enjoy half his revenue." My son Edgar! Had +he a hand to write this? A heart and brain to breed it +in?--When came you to this? Who brought it? + +EDMUND It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it. I found it thrown in at the casement +of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER You know the character to be your +brother's? + +EDMUND If the matter were good, my lord, I durst +swear it were his; but in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER It is his. + +EDMUND It is his hand, my lord, but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER Has he never before sounded you in this +business? + +EDMUND Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit that, sons at perfect age and +fathers declined, the father should be as ward to the +son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter. Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish +villain! Worse than brutish!--Go, sirrah, seek +him. I'll apprehend him.--Abominable villain!-- +Where is he? + +EDMUND I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my brother +till you can derive from him better testimony of his +intent, you should run a certain course; where, if +you violently proceed against him, mistaking his +purpose, it would make a great gap in your own +honor and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. +I dare pawn down my life for him that he hath +writ this to feel my affection to your Honor, and to +no other pretense of danger. + +GLOUCESTER Think you so? + +EDMUND If your Honor judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction, and that +without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER He cannot be such a monster. + +EDMUND Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him! Heaven and Earth! Edmund, seek him +out; wind me into him, I pray you. Frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND I will seek him, sir, presently, convey the +business as I shall find means, and acquaint you +withal. + +GLOUCESTER These late eclipses in the sun and moon +portend no good to us. Though the wisdom of +nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds +itself scourged by the sequent effects. Love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide; in cities, mutinies; +in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and +the bond cracked 'twixt son and father. This villain +of mine comes under the prediction: there's son +against father. The King falls from bias of nature: +there's father against child. We have seen the best of +our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and +all ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our +graves.--Find out this villain, Edmund. It shall +lose thee nothing. Do it carefully.--And the noble +and true-hearted Kent banished! His offense, honesty! +'Tis strange. [He exits.] + +EDMUND This is the excellent foppery of the world, that +when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeits of +our own behavior) we make guilty of our disasters +the sun, the moon, and stars, as if we were villains +on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, +thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; +drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced +obedience of planetary influence; and all that we +are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable +evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition on the charge of a star! My father +compounded with my mother under the Dragon's +tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it +follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut, I should +have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the +firmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +[Enter Edgar.] + +and pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy. My cue is villainous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam.--O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions. Fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR How now, brother Edmund, what serious contemplation +are you in? + +EDMUND I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR Do you busy yourself with that? + +EDMUND I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily, as of unnaturalness between the +child and the parent, death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities, divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles, needless diffidences, +banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, +nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR How long have you been a sectary +astronomical? + +EDMUND Come, come, when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR The night gone by. + +EDMUND Spake you with him? + +EDGAR Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word nor countenance? + +EDGAR None at all. + +EDMUND Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him, and at my entreaty forbear his presence +until some little time hath qualified the heat +of his displeasure, which at this instant so rageth in +him that with the mischief of your person it would +scarcely allay. + +EDGAR Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND That's my fear. I pray you have a continent +forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; +and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from +whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak. +Pray you go. There's my key. If you do stir abroad, +go armed. + +EDGAR Armed, brother? + +EDMUND Brother, I advise you to the best. I am no +honest man if there be any good meaning toward +you. I have told you what I have seen and heard, but +faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it. Pray +you, away. + +EDGAR Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND I do serve you in this business. [Edgar exits.] +A credulous father and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms +That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty +My practices ride easy. I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit. +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Goneril and Oswald, her Steward.] + + +GONERIL Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding +of his Fool? + +OSWALD Ay, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me. Every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other +That sets us all at odds. I'll not endure it. +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him. Say I am sick. +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well. The fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD He's coming, madam. I hear him. + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows. I'd have it come to question. +If he distaste it, let him to my sister, +Whose mind and mine I know in that are one, +Not to be overruled. Idle old man +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away. Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again and must be used +With checks as flatteries, when they are seen +abused. +Remember what I have said. + +OSWALD Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you. +What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so. +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak. I'll write straight to my sister +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Kent in disguise.] + + +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow +That can my speech diffuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand +condemned, +So may it come thy master, whom thou lov'st, +Shall find thee full of labors. + +[Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights, and Attendants.] + + +LEAR Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go get it ready. +[An Attendant exits.] +How now, what art thou? + +KENT A man, sir. + +LEAR What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with +us? + +KENT I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve +him truly that will put me in trust, to love him that +is honest, to converse with him that is wise and says +little, to fear judgment, to fight when I cannot +choose, and to eat no fish. + +LEAR What art thou? + +KENT A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the +King. + +LEAR If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he's for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT Service. + +LEAR Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT You. + +LEAR Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT No, sir, but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +LEAR What's that? + +KENT Authority. + +LEAR What services canst do? + +KENT I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a +curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly. That which ordinary men are fit for I +am qualified in, and the best of me is diligence. + +LEAR How old art thou? + +KENT Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, +nor so old to dote on her for anything. I have years +on my back forty-eight. + +LEAR Follow me. Thou shalt serve me--if I like thee +no worse after dinner. I will not part from thee +yet.--Dinner, ho, dinner!--Where's my knave, my +Fool? Go you and call my Fool hither. +[An Attendant exits.] + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD So please you-- [He exits.] + +LEAR What says the fellow there? Call the clotpole +back. [A Knight exits.] Where's my Fool? Ho! I think +the world's asleep. + +[Enter Knight again.] + +How now? Where's that mongrel? + +KNIGHT He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +LEAR Why came not the slave back to me when I +called him? + +KNIGHT Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, +he would not. + +LEAR He would not? + +KNIGHT My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to +my judgment your Highness is not entertained +with that ceremonious affection as you were wont. +There's a great abatement of kindness appears as +well in the general dependents as in the Duke +himself also, and your daughter. + +LEAR Ha? Sayst thou so? + +KNIGHT I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be +mistaken, for my duty cannot be silent when I think +your Highness wronged. + +LEAR Thou but remembrest me of mine own conception. +I have perceived a most faint neglect of late, +which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous +curiosity than as a very pretense and purpose of +unkindness. I will look further into 't. But where's +my Fool? I have not seen him this two days. + +KNIGHT Since my young lady's going into France, sir, +the Fool hath much pined away. + +LEAR No more of that. I have noted it well.--Go you +and tell my daughter I would speak with her. [An +Attendant exits.] Go you call hither my Fool. +[Another exits.] + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +O you, sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir? + +OSWALD My lady's father. + +LEAR "My lady's father"? My lord's knave! You whoreson +dog, you slave, you cur! + +OSWALD I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your +pardon. + +LEAR Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? +[Lear strikes him.] + +OSWALD I'll not be strucken, my lord. + +KENT, [tripping him] Nor tripped neither, you base +football player? + +LEAR I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv'st me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT, [to Oswald] Come, sir, arise. Away. I'll teach you +differences. Away, away. If you will measure your +lubber's length again, tarry. But away. Go to. Have +you wisdom? So. [Oswald exits.] + +LEAR Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's +earnest of thy service. [He gives Kent a purse.] + +[Enter Fool.] + + +FOOL Let me hire him too. [To Kent.] Here's my +coxcomb. [He offers Kent his cap.] + +LEAR How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou? + +FOOL, [to Kent] Sirrah, you were best take my +coxcomb. + +LEAR Why, my boy? + +FOOL Why? For taking one's part that's out of favor. +[To Kent.] Nay, an thou canst not smile as the +wind sits, thou 'lt catch cold shortly. There, take my +coxcomb. Why, this fellow has banished two on 's +daughters and did the third a blessing against his +will. If thou follow him, thou must needs wear my +coxcomb.--How now, nuncle? Would I had two +coxcombs and two daughters. + +LEAR Why, my boy? + +FOOL If I gave them all my living, I'd keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine. Beg another of thy +daughters. + +LEAR Take heed, sirrah--the whip. + +FOOL Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be +whipped out, when the Lady Brach may stand by th' +fire and stink. + +LEAR A pestilent gall to me! + +FOOL Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +LEAR Do. + +FOOL Mark it, nuncle: + Have more than thou showest. + Speak less than thou knowest, + Lend less than thou owest, + Ride more than thou goest, + Learn more than thou trowest, + Set less than thou throwest; + Leave thy drink and thy whore + And keep in-a-door, + And thou shalt have more + Than two tens to a score. + +KENT This is nothing, Fool. + +FOOL Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer. +You gave me nothing for 't.--Can you make no use +of nothing, nuncle? + +LEAR Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out of +nothing. + +FOOL, [to Kent] Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his +land comes to. He will not believe a Fool. + +LEAR A bitter Fool! + +FOOL Dost know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet one? + +LEAR No, lad, teach me. + +FOOL That lord that counseled thee + To give away thy land, + Come place him here by me; + Do thou for him stand. + The sweet and bitter fool + Will presently appear: + The one in motley here, + The other found out there. + +LEAR Dost thou call me "fool," boy? + +FOOL All thy other titles thou hast given away. That +thou wast born with. + +KENT This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +FOOL No, faith, lords and great men will not let me. If +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on 't. +And ladies too, they will not let me have all the fool +to myself; they'll be snatching.--Nuncle, give me +an egg, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +LEAR What two crowns shall they be? + +FOOL Why, after I have cut the egg i' th' middle and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' th' middle and gav'st away +both parts, thou bor'st thine ass on thy back o'er +the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown +when thou gav'st thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. [Sings.] + Fools had ne'er less grace in a year, + For wise men are grown foppish + And know not how their wits to wear, + Their manners are so apish. + +LEAR When were you wont to be so full of songs, +sirrah? + +FOOL I have used it, nuncle, e'er since thou mad'st thy +daughters thy mothers. For when thou gav'st them +the rod and put'st down thine own breeches, +[Sings.] + Then they for sudden joy did weep, + And I for sorrow sung, + That such a king should play bo-peep + And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy Fool to lie. I would fain learn to lie. + +LEAR An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +FOOL I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. +They'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou 'lt +have me whipped for lying, and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a Fool. And yet I would not be +thee, nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides +and left nothing i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the +parings. + +[Enter Goneril.] + + +LEAR +How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' th' frown. + +FOOL Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no +need to care for her frowning. Now thou art an O +without a figure. I am better than thou art now. I +am a Fool. Thou art nothing. [To Goneril.] Yes, +forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids +me, though you say nothing. + Mum, mum, + He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, + Weary of all, shall want some. +[He points at Lear.] +That's a shelled peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed Fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir, +I had thought by making this well known unto you +To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done, +That you protect this course and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep +Which in the tender of a wholesome weal +Might in their working do you that offense, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +FOOL For you know, nuncle, + The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, + That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +LEAR Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +I would you would make use of your good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away +These dispositions which of late transport you +From what you rightly are. + +FOOL May not an ass know when the cart draws the +horse? Whoop, Jug, I love thee! + +LEAR +Does any here know me? This is not Lear. +Does Lear walk thus, speak thus? Where are his +eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! Waking? 'Tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +FOOL Lear's shadow. + +LEAR +I would learn that, for, by the marks of +sovereignty, +Knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded +I had daughters. + +FOOL Which they will make an obedient father. + +LEAR Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' th' savor +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright. +As you are old and reverend, should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires, +Men so disordered, so debauched and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust +Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy. Be then desired, +By her that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train, +And the remainders that shall still depend +To be such men as may besort your age, +Which know themselves and you. + +LEAR Darkness and +devils!-- +Saddle my horses. Call my train together. +[Some exit.] +Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people, and your disordered rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +[Enter Albany.] + + +LEAR +Woe that too late repents!--O, sir, are you +come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir.--Prepare my horses. +[Some exit.] +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea monster! + +ALBANY Pray, sir, be patient. + +LEAR, [to Goneril] Detested kite, thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show, +Which, like an engine, wrenched my frame of +nature +From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love +And added to the gall! O Lear, Lear, Lear! +[He strikes his head.] +Beat at this gate that let thy folly in +And thy dear judgment out. Go, go, my people. +[Some exit.] + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +LEAR It may be so, my lord.-- +Hear, Nature, hear, dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful. +Into her womb convey sterility. +Dry up in her the organs of increase, +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honor her. If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen, that it may live +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her. +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks, +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt, that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child.--Away, away! +[Lear and the rest of his train exit.] + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know more of it, +But let his disposition have that scope +As dotage gives it. + +[Enter Lear and the Fool.] + + +LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap? +Within a fortnight? + +ALBANY What's the matter, sir? + +LEAR +I'll tell thee. [To Goneril.] Life and death! I am +ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus, +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon +thee! +Th' untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out +And cast you, with the waters that you loose, +To temper clay. Yea, is 't come to this? +Ha! Let it be so. I have another daughter +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable. +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off forever. [He exits.] + +GONERIL Do you mark that? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you-- + +GONERIL Pray you, content.--What, Oswald, ho!-- +You, sir, more knave than Fool, after your master. + +FOOL Nuncle Lear, Nuncle Lear, tarry. Take the Fool +with thee. + A fox, when one has caught her, + And such a daughter, + Should sure to the slaughter, + If my cap would buy a halter. + So the Fool follows after. [He exits.] + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel. A hundred +knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights! Yes, that on every +dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers +And hold our lives in mercy.--Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL Safer than trust too far. +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart. +What he hath uttered I have writ my sister. +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have showed th' unfitness-- + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +How now, Oswald? +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD Ay, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company and away to horse. +Inform her full of my particular fear, +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone, +And hasten your return. [Oswald exits.] No, no, my +lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours, +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more at task for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell. +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL Nay, then-- + +ALBANY Well, well, th' event. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, Gentleman, and Fool.] + + +LEAR, [to Kent] Go you before to Gloucester with these +letters. Acquaint my daughter no further with anything +you know than comes from her demand out of +the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be +there afore you. + +KENT I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. [He exits.] + +FOOL If a man's brains were in 's heels, were 't not in +danger of kibes? + +LEAR Ay, boy. + +FOOL Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall not go +slipshod. + +LEAR Ha, ha, ha! + +FOOL Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly, +for, though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +LEAR What canst tell, boy? + +FOOL She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. +Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' th' middle +on 's face? + +LEAR No. + +FOOL Why, to keep one's eyes of either side 's nose, +that what a man cannot smell out he may spy into. + +LEAR I did her wrong. + +FOOL Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +LEAR No. + +FOOL Nor I neither. But I can tell why a snail has a +house. + +LEAR Why? + +FOOL Why, to put 's head in, not to give it away to his +daughters and leave his horns without a case. + +LEAR I will forget my nature. So kind a father!--Be +my horses ready? [Gentleman exits.] + +FOOL Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why +the seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty +reason. + +LEAR Because they are not eight. + +FOOL Yes, indeed. Thou wouldst make a good Fool. + +LEAR To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +FOOL If thou wert my Fool, nuncle, I'd have thee +beaten for being old before thy time. + +LEAR How's that? + +FOOL Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! +Keep me in temper. I would not be mad! + +[Enter Gentleman.] + +How now, are the horses ready? + +GENTLEMAN Ready, my lord. + +LEAR Come, boy. + +FOOL +She that's a maid now and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut +shorter. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Edmund, the Bastard and Curan, severally.] + + +EDMUND Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN And you, sir. I have been with your father and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and +Regan his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND How comes that? + +CURAN Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news +abroad?--I mean the whispered ones, for they are +yet but ear-kissing arguments. + +EDMUND Not I. Pray you, what are they? + +CURAN Have you heard of no likely wars toward 'twixt +the dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND Not a word. + +CURAN You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. +[He exits.] + +EDMUND +The Duke be here tonight? The better, best. +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother, +And I have one thing of a queasy question +Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work!-- +Brother, a word. Descend. Brother, I say! + +[Enter Edgar.] + +My father watches. O sir, fly this place! +Intelligence is given where you are hid. +You have now the good advantage of the night. +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither, now, i' th' night, i' th' haste, +And Regan with him. Have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR I am sure on 't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming. Pardon me. +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you. +Draw. Seem to defend yourself. Now, quit you +well. [They draw.] +Yield! Come before my father! Light, hoa, here! +[Aside to Edgar.] Fly, brother.--Torches, torches! +--So, farewell. [Edgar exits.] +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion +Of my more fierce endeavor. I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. [He wounds his arm.] +Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +[Enter Gloucester, and Servants with torches.] + + +GLOUCESTER Now, Edmund, where's the +villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress. + +GLOUCESTER But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER Where is the villain, +Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir, when by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Servants exit.] By no +means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your Lordship, +But that I told him the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend, +Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to th' father--sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion +With his prepared sword he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm; +And when he saw my best alarumed spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to th' encounter, +Or whether ghasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER Let him fly far! +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught, +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight. +By his authority I will proclaim it +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threatened to discover him. He replied +"Thou unpossessing bastard, dost thou think +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faithed? No. What I should +deny-- +As this I would, though thou didst produce +My very character--I'd turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice. +And thou must make a dullard of the world +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it." + +GLOUCESTER O strange and fastened villain! +Would he deny his letter, said he? +I never got him. [Tucket within.] +Hark, the Duke's trumpets. I know not why he +comes. +All ports I'll bar. The villain shall not 'scape. +The Duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have due note of him. And of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +[Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.] + + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend? Since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange +news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue th' offender. How dost, my +lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O madam, my old heart is cracked; it's cracked. + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named, your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tended upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam. 'Tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected. +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have th' expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well informed of them, and with such cautions +That if they come to sojourn at my house +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.-- +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A childlike office. + +EDMUND It was my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practice, and received +This hurt you see striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be feared of doing harm. Make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please.--For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours. +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need. +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER For him I thank your Grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night. +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice. +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I best thought it fit +To answer from our home. The several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom and bestow +Your needful counsel to our businesses, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam. +Your Graces are right welcome. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Kent in disguise and Oswald, the Steward, +severally.] + + +OSWALD Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this +house? + +KENT Ay. + +OSWALD Where may we set our horses? + +KENT I' th' mire. + +OSWALD Prithee, if thou lov'st me, tell me. + +KENT I love thee not. + +OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee. + +KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make +thee care for me. + +OSWALD Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD What dost thou know me for? + +KENT A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, +filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, +action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, +finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting +slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good +service, and art nothing but the composition of a +knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir +of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into +clamorous whining if thou deny'st the least syllable +of thy addition. + +OSWALD Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus +to rail on one that is neither known of thee nor +knows thee! + +KENT What a brazen-faced varlet art thou to deny thou +knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up +thy heels and beat thee before the King? [He draws +his sword.] Draw, you rogue, for though it be night, +yet the moon shines. I'll make a sop o' th' moonshine +of you, you whoreson, cullionly barbermonger. +Draw! + +OSWALD Away! I have nothing to do with thee. + +KENT Draw, you rascal! You come with letters against +the King and take Vanity the puppet's part against +the royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I'll so +carbonado your shanks! Draw, you rascal! Come +your ways. + +OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Help! + +KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat +slave! Strike! [He beats Oswald.] + +OSWALD Help, ho! Murder, murder! + +[Enter Bastard Edmund, with his rapier drawn, +Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.] + + +EDMUND How now, what's the matter? Part! + +KENT With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come, I'll +flesh you. Come on, young master. + +GLOUCESTER +Weapons? Arms? What's the matter here? + +CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives! He dies that +strikes again. What is the matter? + +REGAN +The messengers from our sister and the King. + +CORNWALL What is your difference? Speak. + +OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord. + +KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor. +You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a +tailor made thee. + +CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a +man? + +KENT A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not +have made him so ill, though they had been but two +years o' th' trade. + +CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? + +OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have +spared at suit of his gray beard-- + +KENT Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter! +--My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread +this unbolted villain into mortar and daub the wall +of a jakes with him.--Spare my gray beard, you +wagtail? + +CORNWALL Peace, sirrah! +You beastly knave, know you no reverence? + +KENT +Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege. + +CORNWALL Why art thou angry? + +KENT +That such a slave as this should wear a sword, +Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as +these, +Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain +Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every +passion +That in the natures of their lords rebel-- +Being oil to fire, snow to the colder moods-- +Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks +With every gale and vary of their masters, +Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.-- +A plague upon your epileptic visage! +Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? +Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, +I'd drive you cackling home to Camelot. + +CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow? + +GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that. + +KENT +No contraries hold more antipathy +Than I and such a knave. + +CORNWALL +Why dost thou call him "knave"? What is his fault? + +KENT His countenance likes me not. + +CORNWALL +No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers. + +KENT +Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain: +I have seen better faces in my time +Than stands on any shoulder that I see +Before me at this instant. + +CORNWALL This is some fellow +Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect +A saucy roughness and constrains the garb +Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he. +An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth! +An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. +These kind of knaves I know, which in this +plainness +Harbor more craft and more corrupter ends +Than twenty silly-ducking observants +That stretch their duties nicely. + +KENT +Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity, +Under th' allowance of your great aspect, +Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire +On flick'ring Phoebus' front-- + +CORNWALL What mean'st by this? + +KENT To go out of my dialect, which you discommend +so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer. He that +beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave, +which for my part I will not be, though I should +win your displeasure to entreat me to 't. + +CORNWALL, [to Oswald] What was th' offense you gave +him? + +OSWALD I never gave him any. +It pleased the King his master very late +To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; +When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure, +Tripped me behind; being down, insulted, railed, +And put upon him such a deal of man +That worthied him, got praises of the King +For him attempting who was self-subdued; +And in the fleshment of this dread exploit, +Drew on me here again. + +KENT None of these rogues and cowards +But Ajax is their fool. + +CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks.-- +You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart, +We'll teach you. + +KENT Sir, I am too old to learn. +Call not your stocks for me. I serve the King, +On whose employment I was sent to you. +You shall do small respect, show too bold +malice +Against the grace and person of my master, +Stocking his messenger. + +CORNWALL +Fetch forth the stocks.--As I have life and honor, +There shall he sit till noon. + +REGAN +Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night, too. + +KENT +Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, +You should not use me so. + +REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will. + +CORNWALL +This is a fellow of the selfsame color +Our sister speaks of.--Come, bring away the stocks. +[Stocks brought out.] + +GLOUCESTER +Let me beseech your Grace not to do so. +His fault is much, and the good king his master +Will check him for 't. Your purposed low correction +Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches +For pilf'rings and most common trespasses +Are punished with. The King must take it ill +That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, +Should have him thus restrained. + +CORNWALL I'll answer that. + +REGAN +My sister may receive it much more worse +To have her gentleman abused, assaulted +For following her affairs.--Put in his legs. +[Kent is put in the stocks.] + +CORNWALL Come, my good lord, away. +[All but Gloucester and Kent exit.] + +GLOUCESTER +I am sorry for thee, friend. 'Tis the Duke's +pleasure, +Whose disposition all the world well knows +Will not be rubbed nor stopped. I'll entreat for thee. + +KENT +Pray, do not, sir. I have watched and traveled hard. +Some time I shall sleep out; the rest I'll whistle. +A good man's fortune may grow out at heels. +Give you good morrow. + +GLOUCESTER +The Duke's to blame in this. 'Twill be ill taken. +[He exits.] + +KENT +Good king, that must approve the common saw, +Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st +To the warm sun. [He takes out a paper.] +Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, +That by thy comfortable beams I may +Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles +But misery. I know 'tis from Cordelia, +Who hath most fortunately been informed +Of my obscured course, and shall find time +From this enormous state, seeking to give +Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatched, +Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold +This shameful lodging. +Fortune, good night. Smile once more; turn thy +wheel. +[Sleeps.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Edgar.] + + +EDGAR I heard myself proclaimed, +And by the happy hollow of a tree +Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place +That guard and most unusual vigilance +Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape, +I will preserve myself, and am bethought +To take the basest and most poorest shape +That ever penury in contempt of man +Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth, +Blanket my loins, elf all my hairs in knots, +And with presented nakedness outface +The winds and persecutions of the sky. +The country gives me proof and precedent +Of Bedlam beggars who with roaring voices +Strike in their numbed and mortified arms +Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary, +And, with this horrible object, from low farms, +Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills, +Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, +Enforce their charity. "Poor Turlygod! Poor Tom!" +That's something yet. "Edgar" I nothing am. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.] + + +LEAR +'Tis strange that they should so depart from home +And not send back my messenger. + +GENTLEMAN As I learned, +The night before there was no purpose in them +Of this remove. + +KENT, [waking] Hail to thee, noble master. + +LEAR Ha? +Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime? + +KENT No, my lord. + +FOOL Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied +by the heads, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkeys +by th' loins, and men by th' legs. When a man's +overlusty at legs, then he wears wooden +netherstocks. + +LEAR +What's he that hath so much thy place mistook +To set thee here? + +KENT It is both he and she, +Your son and daughter. + +LEAR No. + +KENT Yes. + +LEAR No, I say. + +KENT I say yea. + +LEAR By Jupiter, I swear no. + +KENTBy Juno, I swear ay. + +LEAR They durst not do 't. +They could not, would not do 't. 'Tis worse than +murder +To do upon respect such violent outrage. +Resolve me with all modest haste which way +Thou might'st deserve or they impose this usage, +Coming from us. + +KENT My lord, when at their home +I did commend your Highness' letters to them, +Ere I was risen from the place that showed +My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, +Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forth +From Goneril his mistress salutations; +Delivered letters, spite of intermission, +Which presently they read; on whose contents +They summoned up their meiny, straight took +horse, +Commanded me to follow and attend +The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks; +And meeting here the other messenger, +Whose welcome, I perceived, had poisoned mine, +Being the very fellow which of late +Displayed so saucily against your Highness, +Having more man than wit about me, drew. +He raised the house with loud and coward cries. +Your son and daughter found this trespass worth +The shame which here it suffers. + +FOOL Winter's not gone yet if the wild geese fly that +way. + Fathers that wear rags + Do make their children blind, + But fathers that bear bags + Shall see their children kind. + Fortune, that arrant whore, + Ne'er turns the key to th' poor. +But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolors for +thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year. + +LEAR +O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! +Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow! +Thy element's below.--Where is this daughter? + +KENT With the Earl, sir, here within. + +LEAR, [to Fool and Gentleman] Follow me not. Stay +here. [He exits.] + +GENTLEMAN +Made you no more offense but what you speak of? + +KENT None. +How chance the King comes with so small a number? + +FOOL An thou hadst been set i' th' stocks for that +question, thou 'dst well deserved it. + +KENT Why, Fool? + +FOOL We'll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee +there's no laboring i' th' winter. All that follow +their noses are led by their eyes but blind men, and +there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him +that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel +runs down a hill lest it break thy neck with following; +but the great one that goes upward, let him +draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better +counsel, give me mine again. I would have none but +knaves follow it, since a Fool gives it. + That sir which serves and seeks for gain, + And follows but for form, + Will pack when it begins to rain + And leave thee in the storm. + But I will tarry; the Fool will stay, + And let the wise man fly. + The knave turns fool that runs away; + The Fool no knave, perdie. + +KENT Where learned you this, Fool? + +FOOL Not i' th' stocks, fool. + +[Enter Lear and Gloucester.] + + +LEAR +Deny to speak with me? They are sick? They are +weary? +They have traveled all the night? Mere fetches, +The images of revolt and flying off. +Fetch me a better answer. + +GLOUCESTER My dear lord, +You know the fiery quality of the Duke, +How unremovable and fixed he is +In his own course. + +LEAR +Vengeance, plague, death, confusion! +"Fiery"? What "quality"? Why Gloucester, +Gloucester, +I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, my good lord, I have informed them so. + +LEAR +"Informed them"? Dost thou understand me, +man? + +GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord. + +LEAR +The King would speak with Cornwall. The dear +father +Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends +service. +Are they "informed" of this? My breath and +blood! +"Fiery"? The "fiery" duke? Tell the hot duke that-- +No, but not yet. Maybe he is not well. +Infirmity doth still neglect all office +Whereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves +When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind +To suffer with the body. I'll forbear, +And am fallen out with my more headier will, +To take the indisposed and sickly fit +For the sound man. [Noticing Kent again.] Death on +my state! Wherefore +Should he sit here? This act persuades me +That this remotion of the Duke and her +Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. +Go tell the Duke and 's wife I'd speak with them. +Now, presently, bid them come forth and hear me, +Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum +Till it cry sleep to death. + +GLOUCESTER I would have all well betwixt you. +[He exits.] + +LEAR +O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down! + +FOOL Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels +when she put 'em i' th' paste alive. She knapped +'em o' th' coxcombs with a stick and cried "Down, +wantons, down!" 'Twas her brother that in pure +kindness to his horse buttered his hay. + +[Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.] + + +LEAR Good morrow to you both. + +CORNWALL Hail to your Grace. +[Kent here set at liberty.] + +REGAN I am glad to see your Highness. + +LEAR +Regan, I think you are. I know what reason +I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, +I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, +Sepulch'ring an adult'ress. [To Kent.] O, are you +free? +Some other time for that.--Beloved Regan, +Thy sister's naught. O Regan, she hath tied +Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here. +I can scarce speak to thee. Thou 'lt not believe +With how depraved a quality--O Regan! + +REGAN +I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope +You less know how to value her desert +Than she to scant her duty. + +LEAR Say? How is that? + +REGAN +I cannot think my sister in the least +Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance +She have restrained the riots of your followers, +'Tis on such ground and to such wholesome end +As clears her from all blame. + +LEAR My curses on her. + +REGAN O sir, you are old. +Nature in you stands on the very verge +Of his confine. You should be ruled and led +By some discretion that discerns your state +Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you +That to our sister you do make return. +Say you have wronged her. + +LEAR Ask her forgiveness? +Do you but mark how this becomes the house: +[He kneels.] +"Dear daughter, I confess that I am old. +Age is unnecessary. On my knees I beg +That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food." + +REGAN +Good sir, no more. These are unsightly tricks. +Return you to my sister. + +LEAR, [rising] Never, Regan. +She hath abated me of half my train, +Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue +Most serpentlike upon the very heart. +All the stored vengeances of heaven fall +On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, +You taking airs, with lameness! + +CORNWALL Fie, sir, fie! + +LEAR +You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames +Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, +You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sun +To fall and blister! + +REGAN +O, the blest gods! So will you wish on me +When the rash mood is on. + +LEAR +No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse. +Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give +Thee o'er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but +thine +Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee +To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, +To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, +And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt +Against my coming in. Thou better know'st +The offices of nature, bond of childhood, +Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude. +Thy half o' th' kingdom hast thou not forgot, +Wherein I thee endowed. + +REGAN Good sir, to th' purpose. +[Tucket within.] + +LEAR +Who put my man i' th' stocks? + +CORNWALL What trumpet's that? + +REGAN +I know 't--my sister's. This approves her letter, +That she would soon be here. + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +Is your lady come? + +LEAR +This is a slave whose easy-borrowed pride +Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.-- +Out, varlet, from my sight! + +CORNWALL What means your Grace? + +LEAR +Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope +Thou didst not know on 't. + +[Enter Goneril.] + +Who comes here? O heavens, +If you do love old men, if your sweet sway +Allow obedience, if you yourselves are old, +Make it your cause. Send down and take my part. +[To Goneril.] Art not ashamed to look upon this +beard? [Regan takes Goneril's hand.] +O Regan, will you take her by the hand? + +GONERIL +Why not by th' hand, sir? How have I offended? +All's not offense that indiscretion finds +And dotage terms so. + +LEAR O sides, you are too tough! +Will you yet hold?--How came my man i' th' +stocks? + +CORNWALL +I set him there, sir, but his own disorders +Deserved much less advancement. + +LEAR You? Did you? + +REGAN +I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. +If till the expiration of your month +You will return and sojourn with my sister, +Dismissing half your train, come then to me. +I am now from home and out of that provision +Which shall be needful for your entertainment. + +LEAR +Return to her? And fifty men dismissed? +No! Rather I abjure all roofs, and choose +To wage against the enmity o' th' air, +To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, +Necessity's sharp pinch. Return with her? +Why the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took +Our youngest born--I could as well be brought +To knee his throne and, squire-like, pension beg +To keep base life afoot. Return with her? +Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter +To this detested groom. [He indicates Oswald.] + +GONERIL At your choice, sir. + +LEAR +I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad. +I will not trouble thee, my child. Farewell. +We'll no more meet, no more see one another. +But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter, +Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh, +Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil, +A plague-sore or embossed carbuncle +In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee. +Let shame come when it will; I do not call it. +I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, +Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove. +Mend when thou canst. Be better at thy leisure. +I can be patient. I can stay with Regan, +I and my hundred knights. + +REGAN Not altogether so. +I looked not for you yet, nor am provided +For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister, +For those that mingle reason with your passion +Must be content to think you old, and so-- +But she knows what she does. + +LEAR Is this well spoken? + +REGAN +I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers? +Is it not well? What should you need of more? +Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger +Speak 'gainst so great a number? How in one house +Should many people under two commands +Hold amity? 'Tis hard, almost impossible. + +GONERIL +Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance +From those that she calls servants, or from mine? + +REGAN +Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack +you, +We could control them. If you will come to me +(For now I spy a danger), I entreat you +To bring but five-and-twenty. To no more +Will I give place or notice. + +LEAR I gave you all-- + +REGAN And in good time you gave it. + +LEAR +Made you my guardians, my depositaries, +But kept a reservation to be followed +With such a number. What, must I come to you +With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so? + +REGAN +And speak 't again, my lord. No more with me. + +LEAR +Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favored +When others are more wicked. Not being the worst +Stands in some rank of praise. [To Goneril.] I'll go +with thee. +Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty, +And thou art twice her love. + +GONERIL Hear me, my lord. +What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five, +To follow in a house where twice so many +Have a command to tend you? + +REGAN What need one? + +LEAR +O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars +Are in the poorest thing superfluous. +Allow not nature more than nature needs, +Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady; +If only to go warm were gorgeous, +Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, +Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true +need-- +You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! +You see me here, you gods, a poor old man +As full of grief as age, wretched in both. +If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts +Against their father, fool me not so much +To bear it tamely. Touch me with noble anger, +And let not women's weapons, water drops, +Stain my man's cheeks.--No, you unnatural hags, +I will have such revenges on you both +That all the world shall--I will do such things-- +What they are yet I know not, but they shall be +The terrors of the Earth! You think I'll weep. +No, I'll not weep. +I have full cause of weeping, but this heart +[Storm and tempest.] +Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws +Or ere I'll weep.--O Fool, I shall go mad! +[Lear, Kent, and Fool exit +with Gloucester and the Gentleman.] + +CORNWALL Let us withdraw. 'Twill be a storm. + +REGAN +This house is little. The old man and 's people +Cannot be well bestowed. + +GONERIL +'Tis his own blame hath put himself from rest, +And must needs taste his folly. + +REGAN +For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, +But not one follower. + +GONERIL +So am I purposed. Where is my lord of Gloucester? + +CORNWALL +Followed the old man forth. + +[Enter Gloucester.] + +He is returned. + +GLOUCESTER The King is in high rage. + +CORNWALL Whither is he going? + +GLOUCESTER +He calls to horse, but will I know not whither. + +CORNWALL +'Tis best to give him way. He leads himself. + +GONERIL, [to Gloucester] +My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds +Do sorely ruffle. For many miles about +There's scarce a bush. + +REGAN O sir, to willful men +The injuries that they themselves procure +Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors. +He is attended with a desperate train, +And what they may incense him to, being apt +To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear. + +CORNWALL +Shut up your doors, my lord. 'Tis a wild night. +My Regan counsels well. Come out o' th' storm. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Storm still. Enter Kent in disguise, and a Gentleman, +severally.] + + +KENT Who's there, besides foul weather? + +GENTLEMAN +One minded like the weather, most unquietly. + +KENT I know you. Where's the King? + +GENTLEMAN +Contending with the fretful elements; +Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea +Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, +That things might change or cease; tears his white +hair, +Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage +Catch in their fury and make nothing of; +Strives in his little world of man to outscorn +The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain. +This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would +couch, +The lion and the belly-pinched wolf +Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs +And bids what will take all. + +KENT But who is with him? + +GENTLEMAN +None but the Fool, who labors to outjest +His heart-struck injuries. + +KENT Sir, I do know you +And dare upon the warrant of my note +Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, +Although as yet the face of it is covered +With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall, +Who have--as who have not, that their great stars +Throned and set high?--servants, who seem no less, +Which are to France the spies and speculations +Intelligent of our state. From France there comes +a power +Into this scattered kingdom, who already, +Wise in our negligence, have secret feet +In some of our best ports and are at point +To show their open banner. Now to you: +If on my credit you dare build so far +To make your speed to Dover, you shall find +Some that will thank you, making just report +Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow +The King hath cause to plain: what hath been seen, +Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes, +Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne +Against the old kind king, or something deeper, +Whereof perchance these are but furnishings. +I am a gentleman of blood and breeding, +And from some knowledge and assurance offer +This office to you. + +GENTLEMAN +I will talk further with you. + +KENT No, do not. +For confirmation that I am much more +Than my outwall, open this purse and take +What it contains. +[Kent hands him a purse and a ring.] +If you shall see Cordelia +(As fear not but you shall), show her this ring, +And she will tell you who that fellow is +That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm! +I will go seek the King. + +GENTLEMAN +Give me your hand. Have you no more to say? + +KENT +Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet: +That when we have found the King--in which your +pain +That way, I'll this--he that first lights on him +Holla the other. +[They exit separately.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Storm still. Enter Lear and Fool.] + + +LEAR +Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow! +You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout +Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the +cocks. +You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, +Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, +Singe my white head. And thou, all-shaking +thunder, +Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world. +Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once +That makes ingrateful man. + +FOOL O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house is +better than this rainwater out o' door. Good nuncle, +in. Ask thy daughters' blessing. Here's a night +pities neither wise men nor fools. + +LEAR +Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain! +Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters. +I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness. +I never gave you kingdom, called you children; +You owe me no subscription. Then let fall +Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave, +A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man. +But yet I call you servile ministers, +That will with two pernicious daughters join +Your high-engendered battles 'gainst a head +So old and white as this. O, ho, 'tis foul! + +FOOL He that has a house to put 's head in has a good +headpiece. + The codpiece that will house + Before the head has any, + The head and he shall louse; + So beggars marry many. + The man that makes his toe + What he his heart should make, + Shall of a corn cry woe, + And turn his sleep to wake. +For there was never yet fair woman but she made +mouths in a glass. + +LEAR +No, I will be the pattern of all patience. +I will say nothing. + +[Enter Kent in disguise.] + + +KENT Who's there? + +FOOL Marry, here's grace and a codpiece; that's a +wise man and a fool. + +KENT +Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night +Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies +Gallow the very wanderers of the dark +And make them keep their caves. Since I was man, +Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, +Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never +Remember to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry +Th' affliction nor the fear. + +LEAR Let the great gods +That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads +Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, +That hast within thee undivulged crimes +Unwhipped of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand, +Thou perjured, and thou simular of virtue +That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake, +That under covert and convenient seeming +Has practiced on man's life. Close pent-up guilts, +Rive your concealing continents and cry +These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man +More sinned against than sinning. + +KENT Alack, +bareheaded? +Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel. +Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest. +Repose you there while I to this hard house-- +More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised, +Which even but now, demanding after you, +Denied me to come in--return and force +Their scanted courtesy. + +LEAR My wits begin to turn.-- +Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold? +I am cold myself.--Where is this straw, my fellow? +The art of our necessities is strange +And can make vile things precious. Come, your +hovel.-- +Poor Fool and knave, I have one part in my heart +That's sorry yet for thee. + +FOOL [sings] + He that has and a little tiny wit, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + Must make content with his fortunes fit, + Though the rain it raineth every day. + +LEAR +True, my good boy.--Come, bring us to this hovel. +[Lear and Kent exit.] + +FOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I'll +speak a prophecy ere I go: + When priests are more in word than matter, + When brewers mar their malt with water, + When nobles are their tailors' tutors, + No heretics burned but wenches' suitors, + When every case in law is right, + No squire in debt, nor no poor knight; + When slanders do not live in tongues, + Nor cutpurses come not to throngs, + When usurers tell their gold i' th' field, + And bawds and whores do churches build, + Then shall the realm of Albion + Come to great confusion; + Then comes the time, who lives to see 't, + That going shall be used with feet. +This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before +his time. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Gloucester and Edmund.] + + +GLOUCESTER Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this +unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I +might pity him, they took from me the use of mine +own house, charged me on pain of perpetual +displeasure neither to speak of him, entreat for +him, or any way sustain him. + +EDMUND Most savage and unnatural. + +GLOUCESTER Go to; say you nothing. There is division +between the dukes, and a worse matter than that. I +have received a letter this night; 'tis dangerous to +be spoken; I have locked the letter in my closet. +These injuries the King now bears will be revenged +home; there is part of a power already footed. We +must incline to the King. I will look him and privily +relieve him. Go you and maintain talk with the +Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If he +ask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. If I die for it, as +no less is threatened me, the King my old master +must be relieved. There is strange things toward, +Edmund. Pray you, be careful. [He exits.] + +EDMUND +This courtesy forbid thee shall the Duke +Instantly know, and of that letter too. +This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me +That which my father loses--no less than all. +The younger rises when the old doth fall. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, and Fool.] + + +KENT +Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter. +The tyranny of the open night 's too rough +For nature to endure. [Storm still.] + +LEAR Let me alone. + +KENT +Good my lord, enter here. + +LEAR Wilt break my heart? + +KENT +I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. + +LEAR +Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm +Invades us to the skin. So 'tis to thee. +But where the greater malady is fixed, +The lesser is scarce felt. Thou 'dst shun a bear, +But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, +Thou 'dst meet the bear i' th' mouth. When the +mind's free, +The body's delicate. This tempest in my mind +Doth from my senses take all feeling else +Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude! +Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand +For lifting food to 't? But I will punish home. +No, I will weep no more. In such a night +To shut me out? Pour on. I will endure. +In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril, +Your old kind father whose frank heart gave all! +O, that way madness lies. Let me shun that; +No more of that. + +KENT Good my lord, enter here. + +LEAR +Prithee, go in thyself. Seek thine own ease. +This tempest will not give me leave to ponder +On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in.-- +In, boy; go first.--You houseless poverty-- +Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep. +[Fool exits.] +Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, +That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, +How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, +Your looped and windowed raggedness defend +you +From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en +Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp. +Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, +That thou may'st shake the superflux to them +And show the heavens more just. + +EDGAR [within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! +Poor Tom! + +[Enter Fool.] + + +FOOL Come not in here, nuncle; here's a spirit. Help +me, help me! + +KENT Give me thy hand. Who's there? + +FOOL A spirit, a spirit! He says his name's Poor Tom. + +KENT What art thou that dost grumble there i' th' +straw? Come forth. + +[Enter Edgar in disguise.] + + +EDGAR Away. The foul fiend follows me. Through the +sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! Go to +thy cold bed and warm thee. + +LEAR Didst thou give all to thy daughters? And art thou +come to this? + +EDGAR Who gives anything to Poor Tom, whom the +foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, +through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; +that hath laid knives under his pillow and +halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, +made him proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting +horse over four-inched bridges to course his own +shadow for a traitor? Bless thy five wits! Tom's +a-cold. O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee from +whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do Poor Tom +some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There +could I have him now, and there--and there again +--and there. [Storm still.] + +LEAR +Has his daughters brought him to this pass?-- +Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give 'em +all? + +FOOL Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all +shamed. + +LEAR +Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air +Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! + +KENT He hath no daughters, sir. + +LEAR +Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature +To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. +Is it the fashion that discarded fathers +Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? +Judicious punishment! 'Twas this flesh begot +Those pelican daughters. + +EDGAR Pillicock sat on Pillicock Hill. Alow, alow, loo, +loo. + +FOOL This cold night will turn us all to fools and +madmen. + +EDGAR Take heed o' th' foul fiend. Obey thy parents, +keep thy word's justice, swear not, commit not with +man's sworn spouse, set not thy sweet heart on +proud array. Tom's a-cold. + +LEAR What hast thou been? + +EDGAR A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that +curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, served the +lust of my mistress' heart and did the act of +darkness with her, swore as many oaths as I spake +words and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; +one that slept in the contriving of lust and waked to +do it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and in +woman out-paramoured the Turk. False of heart, +light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in +stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in +prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling +of silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy +foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy +pen from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. +Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; +says suum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa! +Let him trot by. [Storm still.] + +LEAR Thou wert better in a grave than to answer with +thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.--Is +man no more than this? Consider him well.--Thou +ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep +no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha, here's three on 's +are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated +man is no more but such a poor, bare, +forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! +Come, unbutton here. [Tearing off his clothes.] + +FOOL Prithee, nuncle, be contented. 'Tis a naughty +night to swim in. Now, a little fire in a wild field +were like an old lecher's heart--a small spark, all +the rest on 's body cold. + +[Enter Gloucester, with a torch.] + +Look, here comes a walking fire. + +EDGAR This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins +at curfew and walks till the first cock. He +gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and +makes the harelip, mildews the white wheat, and +hurts the poor creature of earth. + Swithold footed thrice the 'old, + He met the nightmare and her ninefold, + Bid her alight, + And her troth plight, + And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee. + +KENT How fares your Grace? + +LEAR What's he? + +KENT Who's there? What is 't you seek? + +GLOUCESTER What are you there? Your names? + +EDGAR Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the +toad, the tadpole, the wall newt, and the water; +that, in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend +rages, eats cow dung for sallets, swallows the old +rat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of +the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to +tithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned; +who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to +his body, + Horse to ride, and weapon to wear; + But mice and rats and such small deer + Have been Tom's food for seven long year. +Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin! Peace, thou +fiend! + +GLOUCESTER, [to Lear] +What, hath your Grace no better company? + +EDGAR The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman. Modo +he's called, and Mahu. + +GLOUCESTER, [to Lear] +Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile +That it doth hate what gets it. + +EDGAR Poor Tom's a-cold. + +GLOUCESTER, [to Lear] +Go in with me. My duty cannot suffer +T' obey in all your daughters' hard commands. +Though their injunction be to bar my doors +And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, +Yet have I ventured to come seek you out +And bring you where both fire and food is ready. + +LEAR +First let me talk with this philosopher. +[To Edgar.] What is the cause of thunder? + +KENT +Good my lord, take his offer; go into th' house. + +LEAR +I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.-- +What is your study? + +EDGAR How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin. + +LEAR Let me ask you one word in private. +[They talk aside.] + +KENT, [to Gloucester] +Importune him once more to go, my lord. +His wits begin t' unsettle. + +GLOUCESTER Canst thou blame him? +[Storm still.] +His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent! +He said it would be thus, poor banished man. +Thou sayest the King grows mad; I'll tell thee, +friend, +I am almost mad myself. I had a son, +Now outlawed from my blood. He sought my life +But lately, very late. I loved him, friend, +No father his son dearer. True to tell thee, +The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this! +--I do beseech your Grace-- + +LEAR O, cry you mercy, sir. +[To Edgar.] Noble philosopher, your company. + +EDGAR Tom's a-cold. + +GLOUCESTER, [to Edgar] +In fellow, there, into th' hovel. Keep thee warm. + +LEARCome, let's in all. + +KENT This way, my lord. + +LEAR, [indicating Edgar] With him. +I will keep still with my philosopher. + +KENT, [to Gloucester] +Good my lord, soothe him. Let him take the fellow. + +GLOUCESTER, [to Kent] Take him you on. + +KENT, [to Edgar] +Sirrah, come on: go along with us. + +LEAR Come, good Athenian. + +GLOUCESTER No words, no words. Hush. + +EDGAR + Child Rowland to the dark tower came. + His word was still "Fie, foh, and fum, + I smell the blood of a British man." +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Cornwall, and Edmund with a paper.] + + +CORNWALL I will have my revenge ere I depart his +house. + +EDMUND How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature +thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to +think of. + +CORNWALL I now perceive it was not altogether your +brother's evil disposition made him seek his death, +but a provoking merit set awork by a reprovable +badness in himself. + +EDMUND How malicious is my fortune that I must +repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of, +which approves him an intelligent party to the +advantages of France. O heavens, that this treason +were not, or not I the detector. + +CORNWALL Go with me to the Duchess. + +EDMUND If the matter of this paper be certain, you +have mighty business in hand. + +CORNWALL True or false, it hath made thee Earl of +Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he +may be ready for our apprehension. + +EDMUND, [aside] If I find him comforting the King, it +will stuff his suspicion more fully.--I will persevere +in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore +between that and my blood. + +CORNWALL I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt +find a dearer father in my love. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Kent in disguise, and Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER Here is better than the open air. Take it +thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what +addition I can. I will not be long from you. + +KENT All the power of his wits have given way to his +impatience. The gods reward your kindness! +[Gloucester exits.] + +[Enter Lear, Edgar in disguise, and Fool.] + + +EDGAR Frateretto calls me and tells me Nero is an +angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and +beware the foul fiend. + +FOOL Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a +gentleman or a yeoman. + +LEAR A king, a king! + +FOOL No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his +son, for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a +gentleman before him. + +LEAR +To have a thousand with red burning spits +Come hissing in upon 'em! + +EDGAR The foul fiend bites my back. + +FOOL He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a +horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath. + +LEAR +It shall be done. I will arraign them straight. +[To Edgar.] Come, sit thou here, most learned +justice. +[To Fool.] Thou sapient sir, sit here. Now, you +she-foxes-- + +EDGAR Look where he stands and glares!--Want'st +thou eyes at trial, madam? +[Sings.] Come o'er the burn, Bessy, to me-- + +FOOL [sings] + Her boat hath a leak, + And she must not speak + Why she dares not come over to thee. + +EDGAR The foul fiend haunts Poor Tom in the voice of +a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly for +two white herring.--Croak not, black angel. I have +no food for thee. + +KENT, [to Lear] +How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed. +Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? + +LEAR +I'll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence. +[To Edgar.] Thou robed man of justice, take thy +place, +[To Fool.] And thou, his yokefellow of equity, +Bench by his side. [To Kent.] You are o' th' +commission; +Sit you, too. + +EDGAR Let us deal justly. +[Sings.] Sleepest or wakest, thou jolly shepherd? + Thy sheep be in the corn. + And for one blast of thy minikin mouth, + Thy sheep shall take no harm. +Purr the cat is gray. + +LEAR Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my oath +before this honorable assembly, kicked the poor +king her father. + +FOOL Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril? + +LEAR She cannot deny it. + +FOOL Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint stool. + +LEAR +And here's another whose warped looks proclaim +What store her heart is made on. Stop her there! +Arms, arms, sword, fire! Corruption in the place! +False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape? + +EDGAR Bless thy five wits! + +KENT, [to Lear] +O pity! Sir, where is the patience now +That you so oft have boasted to retain? + +EDGAR, [aside] +My tears begin to take his part so much +They mar my counterfeiting. + +LEAR The little dogs and all, +Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me. + +EDGAR Tom will throw his head at them.--Avaunt, you +curs! + Be thy mouth or black or white, + Tooth that poisons if it bite, + Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim, + Hound or spaniel, brach, or lym, + Bobtail tike, or trundle-tail, + Tom will make him weep and wail; + For, with throwing thus my head, + Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled. +Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes +and fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn +is dry. + +LEAR Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds +about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that +make these hard hearts? [To Edgar.] You, sir, I +entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like +the fashion of your garments. You will say they are +Persian, but let them be changed. + +KENT +Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile. + +LEAR, [lying down] Make no noise, make no noise. +Draw the curtains. So, so, we'll go to supper i' th' +morning. + +FOOL And I'll go to bed at noon. + +[Enter Gloucester.] + + +GLOUCESTER, [to Kent] +Come hither, friend. Where is the King my master? + +KENT +Here, sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Good friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms. +I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him. +There is a litter ready; lay him in 't, +And drive toward Dover, friend, where thou shalt +meet +Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master. +If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life, +With thine and all that offer to defend him, +Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up, +And follow me, that will to some provision +Give thee quick conduct. + +KENT Oppressed nature sleeps. +This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews, +Which, if convenience will not allow, +Stand in hard cure. [To the Fool.] Come, help to +bear thy master. +Thou must not stay behind. + +GLOUCESTER Come, come away. +[All but Edgar exit, carrying Lear.] + +EDGAR +When we our betters see bearing our woes, +We scarcely think our miseries our foes. +Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind, +Leaving free things and happy shows behind. +But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip +When grief hath mates and bearing fellowship. +How light and portable my pain seems now +When that which makes me bend makes the King +bow! +He childed as I fathered. Tom, away. +Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray +When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile +thee, +In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee. +What will hap more tonight, safe 'scape the King! +Lurk, lurk. +[He exits.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, the Bastard, +and Servants.] + + +CORNWALL, [to Goneril] Post speedily to my lord your +husband. Show him this letter. [He gives her a +paper.] The army of France is landed.--Seek out +the traitor Gloucester. [Some Servants exit.] + +REGAN Hang him instantly. + +GONERIL Pluck out his eyes. + +CORNWALL Leave him to my displeasure.--Edmund, +keep you our sister company. The revenges we are +bound to take upon your traitorous father are not +fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke, where you +are going, to a most festinate preparation; we are +bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and +intelligent betwixt us.--Farewell, dear sister.-- +Farewell, my lord of Gloucester. + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +How now? Where's the King? + +OSWALD +My lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence. +Some five- or six-and-thirty of his knights, +Hot questrists after him, met him at gate, +Who, with some other of the lord's dependents, +Are gone with him toward Dover, where they boast +To have well-armed friends. + +CORNWALL Get horses for your mistress. +[Oswald exits.] + +GONERIL Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. + +CORNWALL +Edmund, farewell. [Goneril and Edmund exit.] +Go seek the traitor Gloucester. +Pinion him like a thief; bring him before us. +[Some Servants exit.] +Though well we may not pass upon his life +Without the form of justice, yet our power +Shall do a court'sy to our wrath, which men +May blame but not control. + +[Enter Gloucester and Servants.] + +Who's there? The +traitor? + +REGAN Ingrateful fox! 'Tis he. + +CORNWALL Bind fast his corky arms. + +GLOUCESTER +What means your Graces? Good my friends, +consider +You are my guests; do me no foul play, friends. + +CORNWALL +Bind him, I say. + +REGAN Hard, hard. O filthy traitor! + +GLOUCESTER +Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none. + +CORNWALL +To this chair bind him. [Servants bind Gloucester.] +Villain, thou shalt find-- +[Regan plucks Gloucester's beard.] + +GLOUCESTER +By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done +To pluck me by the beard. + +REGAN +So white, and such a traitor? + +GLOUCESTER Naughty lady, +These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin +Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your host; +With robber's hands my hospitable favors +You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? + +CORNWALL +Come, sir, what letters had you late from France? + +REGAN +Be simple-answered, for we know the truth. + +CORNWALL +And what confederacy have you with the traitors +Late footed in the kingdom? + +REGAN To whose hands +You have sent the lunatic king. Speak. + +GLOUCESTER +I have a letter guessingly set down +Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, +And not from one opposed. + +CORNWALL Cunning. + +REGAN And false. + +CORNWALL Where hast thou sent the King? + +GLOUCESTER To Dover. + +REGAN +Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at +peril-- + +CORNWALL +Wherefore to Dover? Let him answer that. + +GLOUCESTER +I am tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course. + +REGAN Wherefore to Dover? + +GLOUCESTER +Because I would not see thy cruel nails +Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister +In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. +The sea, with such a storm as his bare head +In hell-black night endured, would have buoyed up +And quenched the stelled fires; +Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. +If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern time, +Thou shouldst have said "Good porter, turn the +key." +All cruels else subscribe. But I shall see +The winged vengeance overtake such children. + +CORNWALL +See 't shalt thou never.--Fellows, hold the chair.-- +Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. + +GLOUCESTER +He that will think to live till he be old, +Give me some help! +[As Servants hold the chair, Cornwall forces out +one of Gloucester's eyes.] +O cruel! O you gods! + +REGAN +One side will mock another. Th' other too. + +CORNWALL +If you see vengeance-- + +FIRST SERVANT Hold your hand, +my lord. +I have served you ever since I was a child, +But better service have I never done you +Than now to bid you hold. + +REGAN How now, you dog? + +FIRST SERVANT +If you did wear a beard upon your chin, +I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? + +CORNWALL My villain? [Draw and fight.] + +FIRST SERVANT +Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger. + +REGAN, [to an Attendant] +Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus? +[She takes a sword and runs +at him behind; kills him.] + +FIRST SERVANT +O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left +To see some mischief on him. O! [He dies.] + +CORNWALL +Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! +[Forcing out Gloucester's other eye.] +Where is thy luster now? + +GLOUCESTER +All dark and comfortless! Where's my son +Edmund?-- +Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature +To quit this horrid act. + +REGAN Out, treacherous villain! +Thou call'st on him that hates thee. It was he +That made the overture of thy treasons to us, +Who is too good to pity thee. + +GLOUCESTER +O my follies! Then Edgar was abused. +Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him. + +REGAN +Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell +His way to Dover. +[Some Servants exit with Gloucester.] +How is 't, my lord? How look you? + +CORNWALL +I have received a hurt. Follow me, lady.-- +Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave +Upon the dunghill.--Regan, I bleed apace. +Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm. +[Cornwall and Regan exit.] + +SECOND SERVANT +I'll never care what wickedness I do +If this man come to good. + +THIRD SERVANT If she live long +And in the end meet the old course of death, +Women will all turn monsters. + +SECOND SERVANT +Let's follow the old earl and get the Bedlam +To lead him where he would. His roguish madness +Allows itself to anything. + +THIRD SERVANT +Go thou. I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs +To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Edgar in disguise.] + + +EDGAR +Yet better thus, and known to be contemned, +Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst, +The lowest and most dejected thing of Fortune, +Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear. +The lamentable change is from the best; +The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then, +Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace. +The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst +Owes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes here? + +[Enter Gloucester and an old man.] + +My father, poorly led? World, world, O world, +But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, +Life would not yield to age. + +OLD MAN +O my good lord, I have been your tenant +And your father's tenant these fourscore years. + +GLOUCESTER +Away, get thee away. Good friend, begone. +Thy comforts can do me no good at all; +Thee they may hurt. + +OLD MAN You cannot see your way. + +GLOUCESTER +I have no way and therefore want no eyes. +I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen +Our means secure us, and our mere defects +Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar, +The food of thy abused father's wrath, +Might I but live to see thee in my touch, +I'd say I had eyes again. + +OLD MAN How now? Who's there? + +EDGAR, [aside] +O gods, who is 't can say "I am at the worst"? +I am worse than e'er I was. + +OLD MAN 'Tis poor mad Tom. + +EDGAR, [aside] +And worse I may be yet. The worst is not +So long as we can say "This is the worst." + +OLD MAN +Fellow, where goest? + +GLOUCESTER Is it a beggar-man? + +OLD MAN Madman and beggar too. + +GLOUCESTER +He has some reason, else he could not beg. +I' th' last night's storm, I such a fellow saw, +Which made me think a man a worm. My son +Came then into my mind, and yet my mind +Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard +more since. +As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods; +They kill us for their sport. + +EDGAR, [aside] How should this be? +Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, +Ang'ring itself and others.--Bless thee, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Is that the naked fellow? + +OLD MAN Ay, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, prithee, get thee away. If for my sake +Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain +I' th' way toward Dover, do it for ancient love, +And bring some covering for this naked soul, +Which I'll entreat to lead me. + +OLD MAN Alack, sir, he is mad. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind. +Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure. +Above the rest, begone. + +OLD MAN +I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have, +Come on 't what will. [He exits.] + +GLOUCESTER Sirrah, naked fellow-- + +EDGAR +Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside.] I cannot daub it further. + +GLOUCESTER Come hither, fellow. + +EDGAR, [aside] +And yet I must.--Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed. + +GLOUCESTER Know'st thou the way to Dover? + +EDGAR Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. +Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits. +Bless thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend. +Five fiends have been in Poor Tom at once: of lust, +as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; +Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, +of mopping and mowing, who since possesses +chambermaids and waiting women. So, bless +thee, master. + +GLOUCESTER, [giving him money] +Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' +plagues +Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched +Makes thee the happier. Heavens, deal so still: +Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, +That slaves your ordinance, that will not see +Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly. +So distribution should undo excess +And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover? + +EDGAR Ay, master. + +GLOUCESTER +There is a cliff, whose high and bending head +Looks fearfully in the confined deep. +Bring me but to the very brim of it, +And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear +With something rich about me. From that place +I shall no leading need. + +EDGAR Give me thy arm. +Poor Tom shall lead thee. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Goneril and Edmund, the Bastard.] + + +GONERIL +Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband +Not met us on the way. + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + +Now, where's your master? + +OSWALD +Madam, within, but never man so changed. +I told him of the army that was landed; +He smiled at it. I told him you were coming; +His answer was "The worse." Of Gloucester's +treachery +And of the loyal service of his son +When I informed him, then he called me "sot" +And told me I had turned the wrong side out. +What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; +What like, offensive. + +GONERIL, [to Edmund] Then shall you go no further. +It is the cowish terror of his spirit, +That dares not undertake. He'll not feel wrongs +Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way +May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother. +Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. +I must change names at home and give the distaff +Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant +Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to +hear-- +If you dare venture in your own behalf-- +A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech. +[She gives him a favor.] +Decline your head. [She kisses him.] This kiss, if it +durst speak, +Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. +Conceive, and fare thee well. + +EDMUND +Yours in the ranks of death. [He exits.] + +GONERIL My most dear +Gloucester! +O, the difference of man and man! +To thee a woman's services are due; +My fool usurps my body. + +OSWALD Madam, here comes my lord. [He exits.] + +[Enter Albany.] + + +GONERIL +I have been worth the whistle. + +ALBANY O Goneril, +You are not worth the dust which the rude wind +Blows in your face. I fear your disposition. +That nature which contemns its origin +Cannot be bordered certain in itself. +She that herself will sliver and disbranch +From her material sap perforce must wither +And come to deadly use. + +GONERIL No more. The text is foolish. + +ALBANY +Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile. +Filths savor but themselves. What have you done? +Tigers, not daughters, what have you performed? +A father, and a gracious aged man, +Whose reverence even the head-lugged bear would +lick, +Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you +madded. +Could my good brother suffer you to do it? +A man, a prince, by him so benefited! +If that the heavens do not their visible spirits +Send quickly down to tame these vile offenses, +It will come: +Humanity must perforce prey on itself, +Like monsters of the deep. + +GONERIL Milk-livered man, +That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; +Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning +Thine honor from thy suffering; that not know'st +Fools do those villains pity who are punished +Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy +drum? +France spreads his banners in our noiseless land, +With plumed helm thy state begins to threat, +Whilst thou, a moral fool, sits still and cries +"Alack, why does he so?" + +ALBANY See thyself, devil! +Proper deformity shows not in the fiend +So horrid as in woman. + +GONERIL O vain fool! + +ALBANY +Thou changed and self-covered thing, for shame +Bemonster not thy feature. Were 't my fitness +To let these hands obey my blood, +They are apt enough to dislocate and tear +Thy flesh and bones. Howe'er thou art a fiend, +A woman's shape doth shield thee. + +GONERIL Marry, your manhood, mew-- + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +ALBANY What news? + +MESSENGER +O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead, +Slain by his servant, going to put out +The other eye of Gloucester. + +ALBANY Gloucester's eyes? + +MESSENGER +A servant that he bred, thrilled with remorse, +Opposed against the act, bending his sword +To his great master, who, thereat enraged, +Flew on him and amongst them felled him dead, +But not without that harmful stroke which since +Hath plucked him after. + +ALBANY This shows you are above, +You justicers, that these our nether crimes +So speedily can venge. But, O poor Gloucester, +Lost he his other eye? + +MESSENGER Both, both, my lord.-- +This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer. +[Giving her a paper.] +'Tis from your sister. + +GONERIL, [aside] One way I like this well. +But being widow and my Gloucester with her +May all the building in my fancy pluck +Upon my hateful life. Another way +The news is not so tart.--I'll read, and answer. +[She exits.] + +ALBANY +Where was his son when they did take his eyes? + +MESSENGER +Come with my lady hither. + +ALBANY He is not here. + +MESSENGER +No, my good lord. I met him back again. + +ALBANY Knows he the wickedness? + +MESSENGER +Ay, my good lord. 'Twas he informed against him +And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment +Might have the freer course. + +ALBANY Gloucester, I live +To thank thee for the love thou show'd'st the King, +And to revenge thine eyes.--Come hither, friend. +Tell me what more thou know'st. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Kent in disguise and a Gentleman.] + + +KENT Why the King of France is so suddenly gone +back know you no reason? + +GENTLEMAN Something he left imperfect in the state, +which since his coming forth is thought of, which +imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger +that his personal return was most required and +necessary. + +KENT Who hath he left behind him general? + +GENTLEMAN The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far. + +KENT Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration +of grief? + +GENTLEMAN +Ay, sir, she took them, read them in my +presence, +And now and then an ample tear trilled down +Her delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen +Over her passion, who, most rebel-like, +Fought to be king o'er her. + +KENT O, then it moved her. + +GENTLEMAN +Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow strove +Who should express her goodliest. You have seen +Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and tears +Were like a better way. Those happy smilets +That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know +What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence +As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief, +Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved +If all could so become it. + +KENT Made she no verbal question? + +GENTLEMAN +Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of +"father" +Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart; +Cried "Sisters, sisters, shame of ladies, sisters! +Kent, father, sisters! What, i' th' storm, i' th' night? +Let pity not be believed!" There she shook +The holy water from her heavenly eyes, +And clamor moistened. Then away she started, +To deal with grief alone. + +KENT It is the stars. +The stars above us govern our conditions, +Else one self mate and make could not beget +Such different issues. You spoke not with her +since? + +GENTLEMAN No. + +KENT +Was this before the King returned? + +GENTLEMAN No, since. + +KENT +Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' th' town, +Who sometime in his better tune remembers +What we are come about, and by no means +Will yield to see his daughter. + +GENTLEMAN Why, good sir? + +KENT +A sovereign shame so elbows him--his own +unkindness, +That stripped her from his benediction, turned her +To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights +To his dog-hearted daughters--these things sting +His mind so venomously that burning shame +Detains him from Cordelia. + +GENTLEMAN Alack, poor gentleman! + +KENT +Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? + +GENTLEMAN 'Tis so. They are afoot. + +KENT +Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear +And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause +Will in concealment wrap me up awhile. +When I am known aright, you shall not grieve +Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go +Along with me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter with Drum and Colors, Cordelia, Doctor, +Gentlemen, and Soldiers.] + + +CORDELIA +Alack, 'tis he! Why, he was met even now +As mad as the vexed sea, singing aloud, +Crowned with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, +With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckooflowers, +Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow +In our sustaining corn. A century send forth. +Search every acre in the high-grown field +And bring him to our eye. [Soldiers exit.] +What can man's wisdom +In the restoring his bereaved sense? +He that helps him take all my outward worth. + +DOCTOR There is means, madam. +Our foster nurse of nature is repose, +The which he lacks. That to provoke in him +Are many simples operative, whose power +Will close the eye of anguish. + +CORDELIA All blest secrets, +All you unpublished virtues of the earth, +Spring with my tears. Be aidant and remediate +In the good man's distress. Seek, seek for him, +Lest his ungoverned rage dissolve the life +That wants the means to lead it. + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER News, madam. +The British powers are marching hitherward. + +CORDELIA +'Tis known before. Our preparation stands +In expectation of them.--O dear father, +It is thy business that I go about. +Therefore great France +My mourning and importuned tears hath pitied. +No blown ambition doth our arms incite, +But love, dear love, and our aged father's right. +Soon may I hear and see him. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Regan and Oswald, the Steward.] + + +REGAN +But are my brother's powers set forth? + +OSWALD Ay, madam. + +REGAN Himself in person there? + +OSWALD Madam, with much ado. +Your sister is the better soldier. + +REGAN +Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home? + +OSWALD No, madam. + +REGAN +What might import my sister's letter to him? + +OSWALD I know not, lady. + +REGAN +Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. +It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out, +To let him live. Where he arrives he moves +All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone, +In pity of his misery, to dispatch +His nighted life; moreover to descry +The strength o' th' enemy. + +OSWALD +I must needs after him, madam, with my letter. + +REGAN +Our troops set forth tomorrow. Stay with us. +The ways are dangerous. + +OSWALD I may not, madam. +My lady charged my duty in this business. + +REGAN +Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you +Transport her purposes by word? Belike, +Some things--I know not what. I'll love thee much-- +Let me unseal the letter. + +OSWALD Madam, I had rather-- + +REGAN +I know your lady does not love her husband; +I am sure of that; and at her late being here, +She gave strange eliads and most speaking looks +To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom. + +OSWALD I, madam? + +REGAN +I speak in understanding. Y' are; I know 't. +Therefore I do advise you take this note: +My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talked, +And more convenient is he for my hand +Than for your lady's. You may gather more. +If you do find him, pray you, give him this, +And when your mistress hears thus much from you, +I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her. +So, fare you well. +If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, +Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. + +OSWALD +Would I could meet him, madam. I should show +What party I do follow. + +REGAN Fare thee well. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Gloucester and Edgar dressed as a peasant.] + + +GLOUCESTER +When shall I come to th' top of that same hill? + +EDGAR +You do climb up it now. Look how we labor. + +GLOUCESTER +Methinks the ground is even. + +EDGAR Horrible steep. +Hark, do you hear the sea? + +GLOUCESTER No, truly. + +EDGAR +Why then, your other senses grow imperfect +By your eyes' anguish. + +GLOUCESTER So may it be indeed. +Methinks thy voice is altered and thou speak'st +In better phrase and matter than thou didst. + +EDGAR +You're much deceived; in nothing am I changed +But in my garments. + +GLOUCESTER Methinks you're better spoken. + +EDGAR +Come on, sir. Here's the place. Stand still. How +fearful +And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low! +The crows and choughs that wing the midway air +Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down +Hangs one that gathers samphire--dreadful trade; +Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. +The fishermen that walk upon the beach +Appear like mice, and yond tall anchoring bark +Diminished to her cock, her cock a buoy +Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge +That on th' unnumbered idle pebble chafes +Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more +Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight +Topple down headlong. + +GLOUCESTER Set me where you stand. + +EDGAR +Give me your hand. You are now within a foot +Of th' extreme verge. For all beneath the moon +Would I not leap upright. + +GLOUCESTER Let go my hand. +Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel +Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies and gods +Prosper it with thee. [He gives Edgar a purse.] +Go thou further off. +Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. + +EDGAR, [walking away] +Now fare you well, good sir. + +GLOUCESTER With all my heart. + +EDGAR, [aside] +Why I do trifle thus with his despair +Is done to cure it. + +GLOUCESTER O you mighty gods! [He kneels.] +This world I do renounce, and in your sights +Shake patiently my great affliction off. +If I could bear it longer, and not fall +To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, +My snuff and loathed part of nature should +Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!-- +Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He falls.] + +EDGAR Gone, sir. Farewell.-- +And yet I know not how conceit may rob +The treasury of life, when life itself +Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, +By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?-- +Ho you, sir! Friend, hear you. Sir, speak.-- +Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.-- +What are you, sir? + +GLOUCESTER Away, and let me die. + +EDGAR +Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, +So many fathom down precipitating, +Thou 'dst shivered like an egg; but thou dost +breathe, +Hast heavy substance, bleed'st not, speak'st, art +sound. +Ten masts at each make not the altitude +Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. +Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again. + +GLOUCESTER But have I fall'n or no? + +EDGAR +From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. +Look up a-height. The shrill-gorged lark so far +Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up. + +GLOUCESTER Alack, I have no eyes. +Is wretchedness deprived that benefit +To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort +When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage +And frustrate his proud will. + +EDGAR Give me your arm. +[He raises Gloucester.] +Up. So, how is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand. + +GLOUCESTER +Too well, too well. + +EDGAR This is above all strangeness. +Upon the crown o' th' cliff, what thing was that +Which parted from you? + +GLOUCESTER A poor unfortunate beggar. + +EDGAR +As I stood here below, methought his eyes +Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, +Horns whelked and waved like the enraged sea. +It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, +Think that the clearest gods, who make them +honors +Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear +Affliction till it do cry out itself +"Enough, enough!" and die. That thing you speak of, +I took it for a man. Often 'twould say +"The fiend, the fiend!" He led me to that place. + +EDGAR +Bear free and patient thoughts. + +[Enter Lear.] + +But who comes here? +The safer sense will ne'er accommodate +His master thus. + +LEAR No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am the +King himself. + +EDGAR O, thou side-piercing sight! + +LEAR Nature's above art in that respect. There's your +press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a +crowkeeper. Draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, +a mouse! Peace, peace! This piece of toasted cheese +will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a +giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! +I' th' clout, i' th' clout! Hewgh! Give the word. + +EDGAR Sweet marjoram. + +LEAR Pass. + +GLOUCESTER I know that voice. + +LEAR Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flattered +me like a dog and told me I had the white hairs in +my beard ere the black ones were there. To say "ay" +and "no" to everything that I said "ay" and "no" to +was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me +once and the wind to make me chatter, when the +thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I +found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to. They are +not men o' their words; they told me I was everything. +'Tis a lie. I am not ague-proof. + +GLOUCESTER +The trick of that voice I do well remember. +Is 't not the King? + +LEAR Ay, every inch a king. +When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. +I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause? +Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No. +The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly does +lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive, for +Gloucester's bastard son was kinder to his father +than my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets. To +'t, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers. Behold yond +simp'ring dame, whose face between her forks +presages snow, that minces virtue and does shake +the head to hear of pleasure's name. The fitchew +nor the soiled horse goes to 't with a more riotous +appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, +though women all above. But to the girdle do the +gods inherit; beneath is all the fiend's. There's hell, +there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, +scalding, stench, consumption! Fie, fie, fie, pah, +pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary; +sweeten my imagination. There's money for thee. + +GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand! + +LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. + +GLOUCESTER +O ruined piece of nature! This great world +Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me? + +LEAR I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou +squinny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid, I'll +not love. Read thou this challenge. Mark but the +penning of it. + +GLOUCESTER +Were all thy letters suns, I could not see. + +EDGAR, [aside] +I would not take this from report. It is, +And my heart breaks at it. + +LEAR Read. + +GLOUCESTER What, with the case of eyes? + +LEAR O ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your +head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in +a heavy case, your purse in a light, yet you see how +this world goes. + +GLOUCESTER I see it feelingly. + +LEAR What, art mad? A man may see how this world +goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. See how +yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark in +thine ear. Change places and, handy-dandy, which +is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a +farmer's dog bark at a beggar? + +GLOUCESTER Ay, sir. + +LEAR And the creature run from the cur? There thou +might'st behold the great image of authority: a +dog's obeyed in office. +Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! +Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back. +Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind +For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the +cozener. +Through tattered clothes small vices do appear. +Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with +gold, +And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. +Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it. +None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em. +Take that of me, my friend, who have the power +To seal th' accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes, +And like a scurvy politician +Seem to see the things thou dost not. Now, now, +now, now. +Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. So. + +EDGAR, [aside] +O, matter and impertinency mixed, +Reason in madness! + +LEAR +If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. +I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester. +Thou must be patient. We came crying hither; +Thou know'st the first time that we smell the air +We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark. + +GLOUCESTER Alack, alack the day! + +LEAR +When we are born, we cry that we are come +To this great stage of fools.--This' a good block. +It were a delicate stratagem to shoe +A troop of horse with felt. I'll put 't in proof, +And when I have stol'n upon these son-in-laws, +Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! + +[Enter a Gentleman and Attendants.] + + +GENTLEMAN, [noticing Lear] +O, here he is. [To an Attendant.] Lay hand upon +him.--Sir, +Your most dear daughter-- + +LEAR +No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even +The natural fool of Fortune. Use me well. +You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; +I am cut to th' brains. + +GENTLEMAN You shall have anything. + +LEAR No seconds? All myself? +Why, this would make a man a man of salt, +To use his eyes for garden waterpots, +Ay, and laying autumn's dust. +I will die bravely like a smug bridegroom. What? +I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king, +Masters, know you that? + +GENTLEMAN +You are a royal one, and we obey you. + +LEAR Then there's life in 't. Come, an you get it, you +shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. +[The King exits running pursued by Attendants.] + +GENTLEMAN +A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, +Past speaking of in a king. Thou hast a daughter +Who redeems nature from the general curse +Which twain have brought her to. + +EDGAR Hail, gentle sir. + +GENTLEMAN Sir, speed you. What's your will? + +EDGAR +Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? + +GENTLEMAN +Most sure and vulgar. Everyone hears that, +Which can distinguish sound. + +EDGAR But, by your favor, +How near's the other army? + +GENTLEMAN +Near and on speedy foot. The main descry +Stands on the hourly thought. + +EDGAR I thank you, sir. That's all. + +GENTLEMAN +Though that the Queen on special cause is here, +Her army is moved on. + +EDGAR I thank you, sir. +[Gentleman exits.] + +GLOUCESTER +You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; +Let not my worser spirit tempt me again +To die before you please. + +EDGAR Well pray you, father. + +GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you? + +EDGAR +A most poor man, made tame to Fortune's blows, +Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, +Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand; +I'll lead you to some biding. +[He takes Gloucester's hand.] + +GLOUCESTER Hearty thanks. +The bounty and the benison of heaven +To boot, and boot. + +[Enter Oswald, the Steward.] + + +OSWALD, [drawing his sword] +A proclaimed prize! Most happy! +That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh +To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, +Briefly thyself remember; the sword is out +That must destroy thee. + +GLOUCESTER Now let thy friendly hand +Put strength enough to 't. +[Edgar steps between Gloucester and Oswald.] + +OSWALD Wherefore, bold peasant, +Dar'st thou support a published traitor? Hence, +Lest that th' infection of his fortune take +Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. + +EDGAR Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. + +OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest! + +EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor +volk pass. An 'chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my +life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. +Nay, come not near th' old man. Keep out, +che vor' ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my +ballow be the harder. Chill be plain with you. + +OSWALD Out, dunghill. + +EDGAR Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come, no matter vor +your foins. [They fight.] + +OSWALD, [falling] +Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse. +If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body, +And give the letters which thou find'st about me +To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out +Upon the English party. O, untimely death! Death! +[He dies.] + +EDGAR +I know thee well, a serviceable villain, +As duteous to the vices of thy mistress +As badness would desire. + +GLOUCESTER What, is he dead? + +EDGAR Sit you down, father; rest you. +Let's see these pockets. The letters that he speaks of +May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry +He had no other deathsman. Let us see. +[He opens a letter.] +Leave, gentle wax, and, manners, blame us not. +To know our enemies' minds, we rip their hearts. +Their papers is more lawful. [Reads the letter.] +Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have +many opportunities to cut him off. If your will want +not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is +nothing done if he return the conqueror. Then am I +the prisoner, and his bed my jail, from the loathed +warmth whereof deliver me and supply the place for +your labor. + Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, +and, for you, her own for venture, Goneril. +O indistinguished space of woman's will! +A plot upon her virtuous husband's life, +And the exchange my brother.--Here, in the sands +Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified +Of murderous lechers; and in the mature time +With this ungracious paper strike the sight +Of the death-practiced duke. For him 'tis well +That of thy death and business I can tell. + +GLOUCESTER +The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense +That I stand up and have ingenious feeling +Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract. +So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs, +And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose +The knowledge of themselves. [Drum afar off.] + +EDGAR Give me your hand. +Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. +Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Cordelia, Kent in disguise, Doctor, and +Gentleman.] + + +CORDELIA +O, thou good Kent, how shall I live and work +To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, +And every measure fail me. + +KENT +To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid. +All my reports go with the modest truth, +Nor more, nor clipped, but so. + +CORDELIA Be better suited. +These weeds are memories of those worser hours. +I prithee put them off. + +KENT Pardon, dear madam. +Yet to be known shortens my made intent. +My boon I make it that you know me not +Till time and I think meet. + +CORDELIA +Then be 't so, my good lord.--How does the King? + +DOCTOR Madam, sleeps still. + +CORDELIA O, you kind gods, +Cure this great breach in his abused nature! +Th' untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up, +Of this child-changed father! + +DOCTOR So please your Majesty +That we may wake the King? He hath slept +long. + +CORDELIA +Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed +I' th' sway of your own will. Is he arrayed? + +[Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.] + + +GENTLEMAN +Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep, +We put fresh garments on him. + +DOCTOR +Be by, good madam, when we do awake him. +I doubt not of his temperance. + +CORDELIA Very well. +[Music.] + +DOCTOR +Please you, draw near.--Louder the music there. + +CORDELIA, [kissing Lear] +O, my dear father, restoration hang +Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss +Repair those violent harms that my two sisters +Have in thy reverence made. + +KENT Kind and dear princess. + +CORDELIA +Had you not been their father, these white flakes +Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face +To be opposed against the jarring winds? +To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, +In the most terrible and nimble stroke +Of quick cross-lightning? To watch, poor perdu, +With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog, +Though he had bit me, should have stood that night +Against my fire. And wast thou fain, poor father, +To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn +In short and musty straw? Alack, alack, +'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once +Had not concluded all.--He wakes. Speak to him. + +DOCTOR Madam, do you; 'tis fittest. + +CORDELIA +How does my royal lord? How fares your Majesty? + +LEAR +You do me wrong to take me out o' th' grave. +Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound +Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears +Do scald like molten lead. + +CORDELIA Sir, do you know me? + +LEAR +You are a spirit, I know. Where did you die? + +CORDELIA Still, still, far wide. + +DOCTOR +He's scarce awake. Let him alone awhile. + +LEAR +Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? +I am mightily abused; I should e'en die with pity +To see another thus. I know not what to say. +I will not swear these are my hands. Let's see. +I feel this pinprick. Would I were assured +Of my condition! + +CORDELIA O, look upon me, sir, +And hold your hand in benediction o'er me. +No, sir, you must not kneel. + +LEAR Pray do not mock: +I am a very foolish fond old man, +Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less, +And to deal plainly, +I fear I am not in my perfect mind. +Methinks I should know you and know this man, +Yet I am doubtful, for I am mainly ignorant +What place this is, and all the skill I have +Remembers not these garments; nor I know not +Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me, +For, as I am a man, I think this lady +To be my child Cordelia. + +CORDELIA, [weeping] And so I am; I am. + +LEAR +Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not. +If you have poison for me, I will drink it. +I know you do not love me, for your sisters +Have, as I do remember, done me wrong. +You have some cause; they have not. + +CORDELIA No cause, no +cause. + +LEAR Am I in France? + +KENT In your own kingdom, sir. + +LEAR Do not abuse me. + +DOCTOR +Be comforted, good madam. The great rage, +You see, is killed in him, and yet it is danger +To make him even o'er the time he has lost. +Desire him to go in. Trouble him no more +Till further settling. + +CORDELIA Will 't please your Highness walk? + +LEAR You must bear with me. +Pray you now, forget, and forgive. I am old and +foolish. [They exit. Kent and Gentleman remain.] + +GENTLEMAN Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall +was so slain? + +KENT Most certain, sir. + +GENTLEMAN Who is conductor of his people? + +KENT As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester. + +GENTLEMAN They say Edgar, his banished son, is with +the Earl of Kent in Germany. + +KENT Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about. +The powers of the kingdom approach apace. + +GENTLEMAN The arbitrament is like to be bloody. Fare +you well, sir. [He exits.] + +KENT +My point and period will be throughly wrought, +Or well, or ill, as this day's battle's fought. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter, with Drum and Colors, Edmund, Regan, +Gentlemen, and Soldiers.] + + +EDMUND, [to a Gentleman] +Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold, +Or whether since he is advised by aught +To change the course. He's full of alteration +And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure. +[A Gentleman exits.] + +REGAN +Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. + +EDMUND +'Tis to be doubted, madam. + +REGAN Now, sweet lord, +You know the goodness I intend upon you; +Tell me but truly, but then speak the truth, +Do you not love my sister? + +EDMUND In honored love. + +REGAN +But have you never found my brother's way +To the forfended place? + +EDMUND That thought abuses you. + +REGAN +I am doubtful that you have been conjunct +And bosomed with her as far as we call hers. + +EDMUND No, by mine honor, madam. + +REGAN +I never shall endure her. Dear my lord, +Be not familiar with her. + +EDMUND +Fear me not. She and the Duke, her husband. + +[Enter, with Drum and Colors, Albany, Goneril, Soldiers.] + + +GONERIL, [aside] +I had rather lose the battle than that sister +Should loosen him and me. + +ALBANY +Our very loving sister, well bemet.-- +Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter, +With others whom the rigor of our state +Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest, +I never yet was valiant. For this business, +It touches us as France invades our land, +Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear, +Most just and heavy causes make oppose. + +EDMUND +Sir, you speak nobly. + +REGAN Why is this reasoned? + +GONERIL +Combine together 'gainst the enemy, +For these domestic and particular broils +Are not the question here. + +ALBANY Let's then determine +With th' ancient of war on our proceeding. + +EDMUND +I shall attend you presently at your tent. + +REGAN Sister, you'll go with us? + +GONERIL No. + +REGAN +'Tis most convenient. Pray, go with us. + +GONERIL, [aside] +Oho, I know the riddle.--I will go. +[They begin to exit.] + +[Enter Edgar dressed as a peasant.] + + +EDGAR, [to Albany] +If e'er your Grace had speech with man so poor, +Hear me one word. + +ALBANY, [to those exiting] +I'll overtake you.--Speak. +[Both the armies exit.] + +EDGAR, [giving him a paper] +Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. +If you have victory, let the trumpet sound +For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem, +I can produce a champion that will prove +What is avouched there. If you miscarry, +Your business of the world hath so an end, +And machination ceases. Fortune love you. + +ALBANY Stay till I have read the letter. + +EDGAR I was forbid it. +When time shall serve, let but the herald cry +And I'll appear again. [He exits.] + +ALBANY +Why, fare thee well. I will o'erlook thy paper. + +[Enter Edmund.] + + +EDMUND +The enemy's in view. Draw up your powers. +[Giving him a paper.] +Here is the guess of their true strength and forces +By diligent discovery. But your haste +Is now urged on you. + +ALBANY We will greet the time. +[He exits.] + +EDMUND +To both these sisters have I sworn my love, +Each jealous of the other as the stung +Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take? +Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoyed +If both remain alive. To take the widow +Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril, +And hardly shall I carry out my side, +Her husband being alive. Now, then, we'll use +His countenance for the battle, which, being done, +Let her who would be rid of him devise +His speedy taking off. As for the mercy +Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia, +The battle done and they within our power, +Shall never see his pardon, for my state +Stands on me to defend, not to debate. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarum within. Enter, with Drum and Colors, Lear, +Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage, and exit. +Enter Edgar and Gloucester.] + + +EDGAR +Here, father, take the shadow of this tree +For your good host. Pray that the right may thrive. +If ever I return to you again, +I'll bring you comfort. + +GLOUCESTER Grace go with you, sir. +[Edgar exits.] +[Alarum and Retreat within.] + +[Enter Edgar.] + + +EDGAR +Away, old man. Give me thy hand. Away. +King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en. +Give me thy hand. Come on. + +GLOUCESTER +No further, sir. A man may rot even here. + +EDGAR +What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure +Their going hence even as their coming hither. +Ripeness is all. Come on. + +GLOUCESTER And that's true too. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter in conquest, with Drum and Colors, Edmund; +Lear and Cordelia as prisoners; Soldiers, Captain.] + + +EDMUND +Some officers take them away. Good guard +Until their greater pleasures first be known +That are to censure them. + +CORDELIA, [to Lear] We are not the first +Who with best meaning have incurred the worst. +For thee, oppressed king, I am cast down. +Myself could else outfrown false Fortune's frown. +Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters? + +LEAR +No, no, no, no. Come, let's away to prison. +We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage. +When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down +And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, +And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh +At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues +Talk of court news, and we'll talk with them too-- +Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out-- +And take upon 's the mystery of things, +As if we were God's spies. And we'll wear out, +In a walled prison, packs and sects of great ones +That ebb and flow by th' moon. + +EDMUND Take them away. + +LEAR +Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, +The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught +thee? +He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven +And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes. +The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell, +Ere they shall make us weep. We'll see 'em starved +first. +Come. +[Lear and Cordelia exit, with Soldiers.] + +EDMUND Come hither, captain. Hark. +[Handing him a paper.] +Take thou this note. Go follow them to prison. +One step I have advanced thee. If thou dost +As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way +To noble fortunes. Know thou this: that men +Are as the time is; to be tender-minded +Does not become a sword. Thy great employment +Will not bear question. Either say thou 'lt do 't, +Or thrive by other means. + +CAPTAIN I'll do 't, my lord. + +EDMUND +About it, and write "happy" when th' hast done. +Mark, I say, instantly, and carry it so +As I have set it down. + +CAPTAIN +I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats. +If it be man's work, I'll do 't. [Captain exits.] + +[Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, Soldiers and a +Captain.] + + +ALBANY, [to Edmund] +Sir, you have showed today your valiant strain, +And Fortune led you well. You have the captives +Who were the opposites of this day's strife. +I do require them of you, so to use them +As we shall find their merits and our safety +May equally determine. + +EDMUND Sir, I thought it fit +To send the old and miserable king +To some retention and appointed guard, +Whose age had charms in it, whose title more, +To pluck the common bosom on his side +And turn our impressed lances in our eyes, +Which do command them. With him I sent the +Queen, +My reason all the same, and they are ready +Tomorrow, or at further space, t' appear +Where you shall hold your session. At this time +We sweat and bleed. The friend hath lost his friend, +And the best quarrels in the heat are cursed +By those that feel their sharpness. +The question of Cordelia and her father +Requires a fitter place. + +ALBANY Sir, by your patience, +I hold you but a subject of this war, +Not as a brother. + +REGAN That's as we list to grace him. +Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded +Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers, +Bore the commission of my place and person, +The which immediacy may well stand up +And call itself your brother. + +GONERIL Not so hot. +In his own grace he doth exalt himself +More than in your addition. + +REGAN In my rights, +By me invested, he compeers the best. + +GONERIL +That were the most if he should husband you. + +REGAN +Jesters do oft prove prophets. + +GONERIL Holla, holla! +That eye that told you so looked but asquint. + +REGAN +Lady, I am not well, else I should answer +From a full-flowing stomach. [To Edmund.] +General, +Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony. +Dispose of them, of me; the walls is thine. +Witness the world that I create thee here +My lord and master. + +GONERIL Mean you to enjoy him? + +ALBANY +The let-alone lies not in your goodwill. + +EDMUND +Nor in thine, lord. + +ALBANY Half-blooded fellow, yes. + +REGAN, [to Edmund] +Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine. + +ALBANY +Stay yet, hear reason.--Edmund, I arrest thee +On capital treason; and, in thine attaint, +This gilded serpent.--For your claim, fair +sister, +I bar it in the interest of my wife. +'Tis she is subcontracted to this lord, +And I, her husband, contradict your banns. +If you will marry, make your loves to me. +My lady is bespoke. + +GONERIL An interlude! + +ALBANY +Thou art armed, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound. +If none appear to prove upon thy person +Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, +There is my pledge. [He throws down a glove.] +I'll make it on thy heart, +Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less +Than I have here proclaimed thee. + +REGAN Sick, O, sick! + +GONERIL, [aside] If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine. + +EDMUND +There's my exchange. [He throws down a glove.] +What in the world he is +That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. +Call by the trumpet. He that dares approach, +On him, on you, who not, I will maintain +My truth and honor firmly. + +ALBANY +A herald, ho! + +EDMUND A herald, ho, a herald! + +ALBANY +Trust to thy single virtue, for thy soldiers, +All levied in my name, have in my name +Took their discharge. + +REGAN My sickness grows upon me. + +ALBANY +She is not well. Convey her to my tent. +[Regan is helped to exit.] + +[Enter a Herald.] + +Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound, +And read out this. [He hands the Herald a paper.] + +CAPTAIN Sound, trumpet! +[A trumpet sounds.] + +HERALD [reads.] +If any man of quality or degree, within the lists of the +army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of +Gloucester, that he is a manifold traitor, let him +appear by the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in +his defense. [First trumpet sounds.] + +HERALD Again! [Second trumpet sounds.] + +HERALD Again! [Third trumpet sounds.] +[Trumpet answers within.] + +[Enter Edgar armed.] + + +ALBANY, [to Herald] +Ask him his purposes, why he appears +Upon this call o' th' trumpet. + +HERALD What are you? +Your name, your quality, and why you answer +This present summons? + +EDGAR Know my name is lost, +By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit. +Yet am I noble as the adversary +I come to cope. + +ALBANY Which is that adversary? + +EDGAR +What's he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of +Gloucester? + +EDMUND +Himself. What sayest thou to him? + +EDGAR Draw thy sword, +That if my speech offend a noble heart, +Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine. +[He draws his sword.] +Behold, it is my privilege, the privilege of mine +honors, +My oath, and my profession. I protest, +Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence, +Despite thy victor-sword and fire-new fortune, +Thy valor, and thy heart, thou art a traitor, +False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father, +Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince, +And from th' extremest upward of thy head +To the descent and dust below thy foot, +A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou "no," +This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent +To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, +Thou liest. + +EDMUND In wisdom I should ask thy name, +But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, +And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, +What safe and nicely I might well delay +By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn. +Back do I toss these treasons to thy head, +With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart, +Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, +This sword of mine shall give them instant way, +Where they shall rest forever. Trumpets, speak! +[He draws his sword. Alarums. Fights.] +[Edmund falls, wounded.] + +ALBANY, [to Edgar] +Save him, save him! + +GONERIL This is practice, Gloucester. +By th' law of war, thou wast not bound to answer +An unknown opposite. Thou art not vanquished, +But cozened and beguiled. + +ALBANY Shut your mouth, dame, +Or with this paper shall I stopple it.--Hold, sir.-- +Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil. +No tearing, lady. I perceive you know it. + +GONERIL +Say if I do; the laws are mine, not thine. +Who can arraign me for 't? + +ALBANY Most monstrous! O! +Know'st thou this paper? + +GONERIL Ask me not what I know. +[She exits.] + +ALBANY +Go after her, she's desperate. Govern her. +[A Soldier exits.] + +EDMUND, [to Edgar] +What you have charged me with, that have I done, +And more, much more. The time will bring it out. +'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou +That hast this fortune on me? If thou 'rt noble, +I do forgive thee. + +EDGAR Let's exchange charity. +I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund; +If more, the more th' hast wronged me. +My name is Edgar and thy father's son. +The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices +Make instruments to plague us. +The dark and vicious place where thee he got +Cost him his eyes. + +EDMUND Th' hast spoken right. 'Tis true. +The wheel is come full circle; I am here. + +ALBANY, [to Edgar] +Methought thy very gait did prophesy +A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee. +Let sorrow split my heart if ever I +Did hate thee or thy father! + +EDGAR Worthy prince, I know 't. + +ALBANY Where have you hid yourself? +How have you known the miseries of your father? + +EDGAR +By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale, +And when 'tis told, O, that my heart would burst! +The bloody proclamation to escape +That followed me so near--O, our lives' sweetness, +That we the pain of death would hourly die +Rather than die at once!--taught me to shift +Into a madman's rags, t' assume a semblance +That very dogs disdained, and in this habit +Met I my father with his bleeding rings, +Their precious stones new lost; became his guide, +Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair. +Never--O fault!--revealed myself unto him +Until some half hour past, when I was armed. +Not sure, though hoping of this good success, +I asked his blessing, and from first to last +Told him our pilgrimage. But his flawed heart +(Alack, too weak the conflict to support) +'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, +Burst smilingly. + +EDMUND This speech of yours hath moved me, +And shall perchance do good. But speak you on. +You look as you had something more to say. + +ALBANY +If there be more, more woeful, hold it in, +For I am almost ready to dissolve, +Hearing of this. + +EDGAR This would have seemed a period +To such as love not sorrow; but another, +To amplify too much, would make much more +And top extremity. Whilst I +Was big in clamor, came there in a man +Who, having seen me in my worst estate, +Shunned my abhorred society; but then, finding +Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms +He fastened on my neck and bellowed out +As he'd burst heaven, threw him on my father, +Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him +That ever ear received, which, in recounting, +His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life +Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded, +And there I left him tranced. + +ALBANY But who was this? + +EDGAR +Kent, sir, the banished Kent, who in disguise +Followed his enemy king and did him service +Improper for a slave. + +[Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife.] + + +GENTLEMAN +Help, help, O, help! + +EDGAR What kind of help? + +ALBANY, [to Gentleman] Speak, man! + +EDGAR What means this bloody knife? + +GENTLEMAN +'Tis hot, it smokes! It came even from the heart +Of--O, she's dead! + +ALBANY Who dead? Speak, man. + +GENTLEMAN +Your lady, sir, your lady. And her sister +By her is poisoned. She confesses it. + +EDMUND +I was contracted to them both. All three +Now marry in an instant. + +EDGAR Here comes Kent. + +[Enter Kent.] + + +ALBANY, [to the Gentleman] +Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead. +[Gentleman exits.] +This judgment of the heavens, that makes us +tremble, +Touches us not with pity. O, is this he? +[To Kent.] The time will not allow the compliment +Which very manners urges. + +KENT I am come +To bid my king and master aye goodnight. +Is he not here? + +ALBANY Great thing of us forgot! +Speak, Edmund, where's the King? And where's +Cordelia? +[Goneril and Regan's bodies brought out.] +Seest thou this object, Kent? + +KENT Alack, why thus? + +EDMUND Yet Edmund was beloved. +The one the other poisoned for my sake, +And after slew herself. + +ALBANY Even so.--Cover their faces. + +EDMUND +I pant for life. Some good I mean to do +Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send-- +Be brief in it--to th' castle, for my writ +Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia. +Nay, send in time. + +ALBANY Run, run, O, run! + +EDGAR +To who, my lord? [To Edmund.] Who has the office? +Send +Thy token of reprieve. + +EDMUND +Well thought on. Take my sword. Give it the +Captain. + +EDGAR, [to a Soldier] Haste thee for thy life. +[The Soldier exits with Edmund's sword.] + +EDMUND, [to Albany] +He hath commission from thy wife and me +To hang Cordelia in the prison, and +To lay the blame upon her own despair, +That she fordid herself. + +ALBANY +The gods defend her!--Bear him hence awhile. +[Edmund is carried off.] + +[Enter Lear with Cordelia in his arms, +followed by a Gentleman.] + + +LEAR +Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones! +Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so +That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone +forever. +I know when one is dead and when one lives. +She's dead as earth.--Lend me a looking glass. +If that her breath will mist or stain the stone, +Why, then she lives. + +KENT Is this the promised end? + +EDGAR +Or image of that horror? + +ALBANY Fall and cease. + +LEAR +This feather stirs. She lives. If it be so, +It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows +That ever I have felt. + +KENT O, my good master-- + +LEAR +Prithee, away. + +EDGAR 'Tis noble Kent, your friend. + +LEAR +A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! +I might have saved her. Now she's gone forever.-- +Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha! +What is 't thou sayst?--Her voice was ever soft, +Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman. +I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee. + +GENTLEMAN +'Tis true, my lords, he did. + +LEAR Did I not, fellow? +I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion +I would have made him skip. I am old now, +And these same crosses spoil me. [To Kent.] Who +are you? +Mine eyes are not o' th' best. I'll tell you straight. + +KENT +If Fortune brag of two she loved and hated, +One of them we behold. + +LEAR +This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent? + +KENT The same, +Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius? + +LEAR +He's a good fellow, I can tell you that. +He'll strike and quickly too. He's dead and rotten. + +KENT +No, my good lord, I am the very man-- + +LEAR I'll see that straight. + +KENT +That from your first of difference and decay +Have followed your sad steps. + +LEAR You are welcome +hither. + +KENT +Nor no man else. All's cheerless, dark, and deadly. +Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, +And desperately are dead. + +LEAR Ay, so I think. + +ALBANY +He knows not what he says, and vain is it +That we present us to him. + +EDGAR Very bootless. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER Edmund is dead, my lord. + +ALBANY That's but a trifle here.-- +You lords and noble friends, know our intent: +What comfort to this great decay may come +Shall be applied. For us, we will resign, +During the life of this old Majesty, +To him our absolute power; you to your rights, +With boot and such addition as your Honors +Have more than merited. All friends shall taste +The wages of their virtue, and all foes +The cup of their deservings. O, see, see! + +LEAR +And my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life? +Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, +And thou no breath at all? Thou 'lt come no more, +Never, never, never, never, never.-- +Pray you undo this button. Thank you, sir. +Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips, +Look there, look there! [He dies.] + +EDGAR He faints. [To Lear.] My lord, +my lord! + +KENT +Break, heart, I prithee, break! + +EDGAR Look up, my lord. + +KENT +Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him +That would upon the rack of this tough world +Stretch him out longer. + +EDGAR He is gone indeed. + +KENT +The wonder is he hath endured so long. +He but usurped his life. + +ALBANY +Bear them from hence. Our present business +Is general woe. [To Edgar and Kent.] Friends of my +soul, you twain +Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. + +KENT +I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; +My master calls me. I must not say no. + +EDGAR +The weight of this sad time we must obey, +Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. +The oldest hath borne most; we that are young +Shall never see so much nor live so long. +[They exit with a dead march.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/loves-labors-lost_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/loves-labors-lost_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6dae84c --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/loves-labors-lost_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4713 @@ +Love's Labor's Lost +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/loves-labors-lost/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING of Navarre, also known as Ferdinand +Lords attending the King: + BEROWNE + LONGAVILLE + DUMAINE +The PRINCESS of France +Ladies attending the Princess: + ROSALINE + MARIA + KATHERINE +BOYET, a lord attending the Princess +ARMADO, the BRAGGART, also known as Don Adriano de Armado +BOY, Armado's PAGE, also known as MOTE +JAQUENETTA, the WENCH +COSTARD, the CLOWN or SWAIN +DULL, the CONSTABLE +HOLOFERNES, the PEDANT, or schoolmaster +NATHANIEL, the CURATE +FORESTER +MONSIEUR MARCADE, a messenger from France +Lords, Blackamoors, Musicians + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Ferdinand, King of Navarre, Berowne, +Longaville, and Dumaine.] + + +KING +Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, +Live registered upon our brazen tombs, +And then grace us in the disgrace of death, +When, spite of cormorant devouring time, +Th' endeavor of this present breath may buy +That honor which shall bate his scythe's keen edge +And make us heirs of all eternity. +Therefore, brave conquerors, for so you are +That war against your own affections +And the huge army of the world's desires, +Our late edict shall strongly stand in force. +Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; +Our court shall be a little academe, +Still and contemplative in living art. +You three, Berowne, Dumaine, and Longaville, +Have sworn for three years' term to live with me, +My fellow scholars, and to keep those statutes +That are recorded in this schedule here. +[He holds up a scroll.] +Your oaths are passed, and now subscribe your +names, +That his own hand may strike his honor down +That violates the smallest branch herein. +If you are armed to do as sworn to do, +Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too. + +LONGAVILLE +I am resolved. 'Tis but a three years' fast. +The mind shall banquet though the body pine. +Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits +Make rich the ribs but bankrout quite the wits. +[He signs his name.] + +DUMAINE +My loving lord, Dumaine is mortified. +The grosser manner of these world's delights +He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves. +To love, to wealth, to pomp I pine and die, +With all these living in philosophy. +[He signs his name.] + +BEROWNE +I can but say their protestation over. +So much, dear liege, I have already sworn, +That is, to live and study here three years. +But there are other strict observances: +As not to see a woman in that term, +Which I hope well is not enrolled there; +And one day in a week to touch no food, +And but one meal on every day besides, +The which I hope is not enrolled there; +And then to sleep but three hours in the night, +And not be seen to wink of all the day-- +When I was wont to think no harm all night, +And make a dark night too of half the day-- +Which I hope well is not enrolled there. +O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, +Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep. + +KING +Your oath is passed to pass away from these. + +BEROWNE +Let me say no, my liege, an if you please. +I only swore to study with your Grace +And stay here in your court for three years' space. + +LONGAVILLE +You swore to that, Berowne, and to the rest. + +BEROWNE +By yea and nay, sir. Then I swore in jest. +What is the end of study, let me know? + +KING +Why, that to know which else we should not know. + +BEROWNE +Things hid and barred, you mean, from common +sense. + +KING +Ay, that is study's godlike recompense. + +BEROWNE +Come on, then, I will swear to study so, +To know the thing I am forbid to know: +As thus--to study where I well may dine, + When I to feast expressly am forbid; +Or study where to meet some mistress fine + When mistresses from common sense are hid; +Or having sworn too hard-a-keeping oath, +Study to break it, and not break my troth. +If study's gain be thus, and this be so, +Study knows that which yet it doth not know. +Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no. + +KING +These be the stops that hinder study quite, +And train our intellects to vain delight. + +BEROWNE +Why, all delights are vain, and that most vain +Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain: +As painfully to pore upon a book + To seek the light of truth, while truth the while +Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look. + Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. +So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, +Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. +Study me how to please the eye indeed + By fixing it upon a fairer eye, +Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed + And give him light that it was blinded by. +Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, + That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks. +Small have continual plodders ever won, + Save base authority from others' books. +These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, + That give a name to every fixed star, +Have no more profit of their shining nights + Than those that walk and wot not what they are. +Too much to know is to know naught but fame, +And every godfather can give a name. + +KING +How well he's read to reason against reading. + +DUMAINE +Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding. + +LONGAVILLE +He weeds the corn, and still lets grow the weeding. + +BEROWNE +The spring is near when green geese are a-breeding. + +DUMAINE +How follows that? + +BEROWNE Fit in his place and time. + +DUMAINE +In reason nothing. + +BEROWNE Something then in rhyme. + +KING +Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost + That bites the firstborn infants of the spring. + +BEROWNE +Well, say I am. Why should proud summer boast + Before the birds have any cause to sing? +Why should I joy in any abortive birth? +At Christmas I no more desire a rose +Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows, +But like of each thing that in season grows. +So you, to study now it is too late, +Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate. + +KING +Well, sit you out. Go home, Berowne. Adieu. + +BEROWNE +No, my good lord, I have sworn to stay with you. +And though I have for barbarism spoke more + Than for that angel knowledge you can say, +Yet, confident, I'll keep what I have sworn + And bide the penance of each three years' day. +Give me the paper. Let me read the same, +And to the strictest decrees I'll write my name. + +KING +How well this yielding rescues thee from shame. + +BEROWNE [reads] Item, That no woman shall come within +a mile of my court. Hath this been proclaimed? + +LONGAVILLE Four days ago. + +BEROWNE Let's see the penalty. [Reads:] On pain of +losing her tongue. Who devised this penalty? + +LONGAVILLE Marry, that did I. + +BEROWNE Sweet lord, and why? + +LONGAVILLE +To fright them hence with that dread penalty. + +BEROWNE +A dangerous law against gentility. +[Reads:] Item, If any man be seen to talk with a +woman within the term of three years, he shall endure +such public shame as the rest of the court can possible +devise. +This article, my liege, yourself must break, + For well you know here comes in embassy +The French king's daughter with yourself to speak-- + A maid of grace and complete majesty-- +About surrender up of Aquitaine + To her decrepit, sick, and bedrid father. +Therefore this article is made in vain, + Or vainly comes th' admired princess hither. + +KING +What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot. + +BEROWNE +So study evermore is overshot. +While it doth study to have what it would, +It doth forget to do the thing it should. +And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, +'Tis won as towns with fire--so won, so lost. + +KING +We must of force dispense with this decree. +She must lie here on mere necessity. + +BEROWNE +Necessity will make us all forsworn + Three thousand times within this three years' + space; +For every man with his affects is born, + Not by might mastered, but by special grace. +If I break faith, this word shall speak for me: +I am forsworn on mere necessity. +So to the laws at large I write my name, + And he that breaks them in the least degree +Stands in attainder of eternal shame. + Suggestions are to other as to me, +But I believe, although I seem so loath, +I am the last that will last keep his oath. +[He signs his name.] +But is there no quick recreation granted? + +KING +Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted + With a refined traveler of Spain, +A man in all the world's new fashion planted, + That hath a mint of phrases in his brain; +One who the music of his own vain tongue + Doth ravish like enchanting harmony, +A man of compliments, whom right and wrong + Have chose as umpire of their mutiny. +This child of fancy, that Armado hight, + For interim to our studies shall relate +In high-born words the worth of many a knight + From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate. +How you delight, my lords, I know not, I, +But I protest I love to hear him lie, +And I will use him for my minstrelsy. + +BEROWNE +Armado is a most illustrious wight, +A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight. + +LONGAVILLE +Costard the swain and he shall be our sport, +And so to study three years is but short. + +[Enter Dull, a Constable, with a letter, and Costard.] + + +DULL Which is the Duke's own person? + +BEROWNE This, fellow. What wouldst? + +DULL I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his +Grace's farborough. But I would see his own +person in flesh and blood. + +BEROWNE This is he. + +DULL, [to King] Signior Arm-, Arm-, commends you. +There's villainy abroad. This letter will tell you +more. [He gives the letter to the King.] + +COSTARD Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching +me. + +KING A letter from the magnificent Armado. + +BEROWNE How low soever the matter, I hope in God +for high words. + +LONGAVILLE A high hope for a low heaven. God grant +us patience! + +BEROWNE To hear, or forbear hearing? + +LONGAVILLE To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately, +or to forbear both. + +BEROWNE Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause +to climb in the merriness. + +COSTARD The matter is to me, sir, as concerning +Jaquenetta. The manner of it is, I was taken with +the manner. + +BEROWNE In what manner? + +COSTARD In manner and form following, sir, all those +three. I was seen with her in the manor house, +sitting with her upon the form, and taken following +her into the park, which, put together, is "in manner +and form following." Now, sir, for the manner. +It is the manner of a man to speak to a woman. For +the form--in some form. + +BEROWNE For the "following," sir? + +COSTARD As it shall follow in my correction, and God +defend the right. + +KING Will you hear this letter with attention? + +BEROWNE As we would hear an oracle. + +COSTARD Such is the sinplicity of man to hearken after +the flesh. + +KING [reads] Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and +sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god, and +body's fost'ring patron-- + +COSTARD Not a word of Costard yet. + +KING [reads] So it is-- + +COSTARD It may be so, but if he say it is so, he is, in +telling true, but so. + +KING Peace. + +COSTARD Be to me, and every man that dares not fight. + +KING No words. + +COSTARD Of other men's secrets, I beseech you. + +KING [reads] So it is, besieged with sable-colored melancholy, +I did commend the black oppressing humor +to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving air; +and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to walk. The +time when? About the sixth hour, when beasts most +graze, birds best peck, and men sit down to that +nourishment which is called supper. So much for the +time when. Now for the ground which--which, I +mean, I walked upon. It is yclept thy park. Then for the +place where--where, I mean, I did encounter that +obscene and most prepost'rous event that draweth +from my snow-white pen the ebon-colored ink, which +here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest. But to +the place where. It standeth north-north-east and by +east from the west corner of thy curious-knotted +garden. There did I see that low-spirited swain, that +base minnow of thy mirth,-- + +COSTARD Me? + +KING [reads] that unlettered, small-knowing soul,-- + +COSTARD Me? + +KING [reads] that shallow vassal,-- + +COSTARD Still me? + +KING [reads] which, as I remember, hight Costard,-- + +COSTARD O, me! + +KING [reads] sorted and consorted, contrary to thy +established proclaimed edict and continent canon, +which with--O with--but with this I passion to say +wherewith-- + +COSTARD With a wench. + +KING [reads] with a child of our grandmother Eve, a +female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a +woman: him, I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks +me on, have sent to thee, to receive the meed of +punishment by thy sweet Grace's officer, Anthony +Dull, a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and +estimation. + +DULL Me, an 't shall please you. I am Anthony Dull. + +KING [reads] For Jaquenetta--so is the weaker vessel +called which I apprehended with the aforesaid +swain--I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury, and +shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial. +Thine, in all compliments of devoted and heartburning +heat of duty, +Don Adriano de Armado. + +BEROWNE This is not so well as I looked for, but the +best that ever I heard. + +KING Ay, the best, for the worst. [To Costard.] But, +sirrah, what say you to this? + +COSTARD Sir, I confess the wench. + +KING Did you hear the proclamation? + +COSTARD I do confess much of the hearing it, but little +of the marking of it. + +KING It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment to be +taken with a wench. + +COSTARD I was taken with none, sir. I was taken with a +damsel. + +KING Well, it was proclaimed "damsel." + +COSTARD This was no damsel neither, sir. She was a +virgin. + +BEROWNE It is so varied too, for it was proclaimed +"virgin." + +COSTARD If it were, I deny her virginity. I was taken +with a maid. + +KING This "maid" will not serve your turn, sir. + +COSTARD This maid will serve my turn, sir. + +KING Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall +fast a week with bran and water. + +COSTARD I had rather pray a month with mutton and +porridge. + +KING And Don Armado shall be your keeper. +My Lord Berowne, see him delivered o'er, +And go we, lords, to put in practice that + Which each to other hath so strongly sworn. +[King, Longaville, and Dumaine exit.] + +BEROWNE +I'll lay my head to any goodman's hat, + These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn. +Sirrah, come on. + +COSTARD I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is I was +taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true +girl. And therefore welcome the sour cup of prosperity. +Affliction may one day smile again, and till +then, sit thee down, sorrow. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Armado and Mote, his page.] + + +ARMADO Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit +grows melancholy? + +BOY A great sign, sir, that he will look sad. + +ARMADO Why, sadness is one and the selfsame thing, +dear imp. + +BOY No, no. O Lord, sir, no! + +ARMADO How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, +my tender juvenal? + +BOY By a familiar demonstration of the working, my +tough signior. + +ARMADO Why "tough signior"? Why "tough signior"? + +BOY Why "tender juvenal"? Why "tender juvenal"? + +ARMADO I spoke it "tender juvenal" as a congruent +epitheton appertaining to thy young days, which +we may nominate "tender." + +BOY And I "tough signior" as an appurtenant title to +your old time, which we may name "tough." + +ARMADO Pretty and apt. + +BOY How mean you, sir? I pretty and my saying apt, or +I apt and my saying pretty? + +ARMADO Thou pretty because little. + +BOY Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt? + +ARMADO And therefore apt, because quick. + +BOY Speak you this in my praise, master? + +ARMADO In thy condign praise. + +BOY I will praise an eel with the same praise. + +ARMADO What, that an eel is ingenious? + +BOY That an eel is quick. + +ARMADO I do say thou art quick in answers. Thou +heat'st my blood. + +BOY I am answered, sir. + +ARMADO I love not to be crossed. + +BOY, [aside] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love +not him. + +ARMADO I have promised to study three years with the +Duke. + +BOY You may do it in an hour, sir. + +ARMADO Impossible. + +BOY How many is one thrice told? + +ARMADO I am ill at reckoning. It fitteth the spirit of a +tapster. + +BOY You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir. + +ARMADO I confess both. They are both the varnish of a +complete man. + +BOY Then I am sure you know how much the gross +sum of deuce-ace amounts to. + +ARMADO It doth amount to one more than two. + +BOY Which the base vulgar do call "three." + +ARMADO True. + +BOY Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is +"three" studied ere you'll thrice wink. And how +easy it is to put "years" to the word "three" and +study "three years" in two words, the dancing horse +will tell you. + +ARMADO A most fine figure. + +BOY, [aside] To prove you a cipher. + +ARMADO I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it +is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a +base wench. If drawing my sword against the +humor of affection would deliver me from the +reprobate thought of it, I would take desire prisoner +and ransom him to any French courtier for a +new-devised curtsy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks +I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What +great men have been in love? + +BOY Hercules, master. + +ARMADO Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear +boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be +men of good repute and carriage. + +BOY Samson, master; he was a man of good carriage, +great carriage, for he carried the town gates on his +back like a porter, and he was in love. + +ARMADO O, well-knit Samson, strong-jointed Samson; +I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst +me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was +Samson's love, my dear Mote? + +BOY A woman, master. + +ARMADO Of what complexion? + +BOY Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of +the four. + +ARMADO Tell me precisely of what complexion. + +BOY Of the sea-water green, sir. + +ARMADO Is that one of the four complexions? + +BOY As I have read, sir, and the best of them too. + +ARMADO Green indeed is the color of lovers. But to +have a love of that color, methinks Samson had +small reason for it. He surely affected her for her +wit. + +BOY It was so, sir, for she had a green wit. + +ARMADO My love is most immaculate white and red. + +BOY Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked +under such colors. + +ARMADO Define, define, well-educated infant. + +BOY My father's wit and my mother's tongue, assist +me. + +ARMADO Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty and +pathetical. + +BOY + If she be made of white and red, + Her faults will ne'er be known, + For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, + And fears by pale white shown. + Then if she fear, or be to blame, + By this you shall not know, + For still her cheeks possess the same + Which native she doth owe. +A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of +white and red. + +ARMADO Is there not a ballad, boy, of "The King and +the Beggar"? + +BOY The world was very guilty of such a ballad some +three ages since, but I think now 'tis not to be found; +or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing +nor the tune. + +ARMADO I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I +may example my digression by some mighty precedent. +Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in +the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves +well. + +BOY, [aside] To be whipped--and yet a better love than +my master. + +ARMADO Sing, boy. My spirit grows heavy in love. + +BOY, [aside] And that's great marvel, loving a light +wench. + +ARMADO I say sing. + +BOY Forbear till this company be past. + +[Enter Clown (Costard,) Constable (Dull,) and Wench +(Jaquenetta.)] + + +DULL, [to Armado] Sir, the Duke's pleasure is that you +keep Costard safe, and you must suffer him to take +no delight, nor no penance, but he must fast three +days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the +park. She is allowed for the dey-woman. Fare you +well. + +ARMADO, [aside] I do betray myself with blushing.-- +Maid. + +JAQUENETTA Man. + +ARMADO I will visit thee at the lodge. + +JAQUENETTA That's hereby. + +ARMADO I know where it is situate. + +JAQUENETTA Lord, how wise you are. + +ARMADO I will tell thee wonders. + +JAQUENETTA With that face? + +ARMADO I love thee. + +JAQUENETTA So I heard you say. + +ARMADO And so, farewell. + +JAQUENETTA Fair weather after you. + +DULL Come, Jaquenetta, away. +[Dull and Jaquenetta exit.] + +ARMADO, [to Costard] Villain, thou shalt fast for thy +offenses ere thou be pardoned. + +COSTARD Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on +a full stomach. + +ARMADO Thou shalt be heavily punished. + +COSTARD I am more bound to you than your fellows, +for they are but lightly rewarded. + +ARMADO, [to Boy] Take away this villain. Shut him up. + +BOY Come, you transgressing slave, away. + +COSTARD, [to Armado] Let me not be pent up, sir. I will +fast being loose. + +BOY No, sir, that were fast and loose. Thou shalt to +prison. + +COSTARD Well, if ever I do see the merry days of +desolation that I have seen, some shall see. + +BOY What shall some see? + +COSTARD Nay, nothing, Master Mote, but what they +look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in +their words, and therefore I will say nothing. I thank +God I have as little patience as another man, and +therefore I can be quiet. +[Costard and Boy exit.] + +ARMADO I do affect the very ground (which is base) +where her shoe (which is baser) guided by her foot +(which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn +(which is a great argument of falsehood) if I love. +And how can that be true love which is falsely +attempted? Love is a familiar; love is a devil. There is +no evil angel but love, yet was Samson so tempted, +and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon +so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid's +butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club, and therefore +too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier. The first +and second cause will not serve my turn; the +passado he respects not, the duello he regards not. +His disgrace is to be called "boy," but his glory is to +subdue men. Adieu, valor; rust, rapier; be still, +drum, for your manager is in love. Yea, he loveth. +Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am +sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise wit, write pen, for I +am for whole volumes in folio. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Princess of France, with three attending +Ladies (Rosaline, Maria, and Katherine), Boyet +and other Lords.] + + +BOYET +Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits. +Consider who the King your father sends, +To whom he sends, and what's his embassy. +Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem, +To parley with the sole inheritor +Of all perfections that a man may owe, +Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight +Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen. +Be now as prodigal of all dear grace +As nature was in making graces dear +When she did starve the general world besides +And prodigally gave them all to you. + +PRINCESS +Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, +Needs not the painted flourish of your praise. +Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, +Not uttered by base sale of chapmen's tongues. +I am less proud to hear you tell my worth +Than you much willing to be counted wise +In spending your wit in the praise of mine. +But now to task the tasker: good Boyet, +You are not ignorant all-telling fame +Doth noise abroad Navarre hath made a vow, +Till painful study shall outwear three years, +No woman may approach his silent court. +Therefore to 's seemeth it a needful course, +Before we enter his forbidden gates, +To know his pleasure, and in that behalf, +Bold of your worthiness, we single you +As our best-moving fair solicitor. +Tell him the daughter of the King of France +On serious business craving quick dispatch, +Importunes personal conference with his Grace. +Haste, signify so much, while we attend, +Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will. + +BOYET +Proud of employment, willingly I go. + +PRINCESS +All pride is willing pride, and yours is so. +[Boyet exits.] +Who are the votaries, my loving lords, +That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke? + +A LORD +Lord Longaville is one. + +PRINCESS Know you the man? + +MARIA +I know him, madam. At a marriage feast +Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir +Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized +In Normandy, saw I this Longaville. +A man of sovereign parts he is esteemed, +Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms. +Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. +The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, +If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil, +Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will, +Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills +It should none spare that come within his power. + +PRINCESS +Some merry mocking lord, belike. Is 't so? + +MARIA +They say so most that most his humors know. + +PRINCESS +Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. +Who are the rest? + +KATHERINE +The young Dumaine, a well-accomplished youth, +Of all that virtue love for virtue loved. +Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill; +For he hath wit to make an ill shape good, +And shape to win grace though he had no wit. +I saw him at the Duke Alanson's once, +And much too little of that good I saw +Is my report to his great worthiness. + +ROSALINE +Another of these students at that time +Was there with him, if I have heard a truth. +Berowne they call him, but a merrier man, +Within the limit of becoming mirth, +I never spent an hour's talk withal. +His eye begets occasion for his wit, +For every object that the one doth catch +The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, +Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor, +Delivers in such apt and gracious words +That aged ears play truant at his tales, +And younger hearings are quite ravished, +So sweet and voluble is his discourse. + +PRINCESS +God bless my ladies, are they all in love, +That every one her own hath garnished +With such bedecking ornaments of praise? + +A LORD +Here comes Boyet. + +[Enter Boyet.] + + +PRINCESS Now, what admittance, lord? + +BOYET +Navarre had notice of your fair approach, +And he and his competitors in oath +Were all addressed to meet you, gentle lady, +Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learned: +He rather means to lodge you in the field, +Like one that comes here to besiege his court, +Than seek a dispensation for his oath +To let you enter his unpeopled house. + +[Enter King of Navarre, Longaville, Dumaine, and +Berowne.] + +Here comes Navarre. + +KING Fair Princess, welcome to the court of Navarre. + +PRINCESS "Fair" I give you back again, and "welcome" +I have not yet. The roof of this court is too +high to be yours, and welcome to the wide fields too +base to be mine. + +KING +You shall be welcome, madam, to my court. + +PRINCESS +I will be welcome, then. Conduct me thither. + +KING +Hear me, dear lady. I have sworn an oath. + +PRINCESS +Our Lady help my lord! He'll be forsworn. + +KING +Not for the world, fair madam, by my will. + +PRINCESS +Why, will shall break it, will and nothing else. + +KING +Your Ladyship is ignorant what it is. + +PRINCESS +Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise, +Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance. +I hear your Grace hath sworn out housekeeping. +'Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord, +And sin to break it. +But pardon me, I am too sudden bold. +To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me. +Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, +And suddenly resolve me in my suit. +[She gives him a paper.] + +KING +Madam, I will, if suddenly I may. + +PRINCESS +You will the sooner that I were away, +For you'll prove perjured if you make me stay. +[They walk aside while the King reads the paper.] + +BEROWNE, [to Rosaline] +Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? + +ROSALINE +Did not I dance with you in Brabant once? + +BEROWNE +I know you did. + +ROSALINE How needless was it then +To ask the question. + +BEROWNE You must not be so quick. + +ROSALINE +'Tis long of you that spur me with such questions. + +BEROWNE +Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast; 'twill tire. + +ROSALINE +Not till it leave the rider in the mire. + +BEROWNE +What time o' day? + +ROSALINE The hour that fools should ask. + +BEROWNE Now fair befall your mask. + +ROSALINE Fair fall the face it covers. + +BEROWNE And send you many lovers. + +ROSALINE Amen, so you be none. + +BEROWNE Nay, then, will I be gone. + +KING, [coming forward with the Princess] +Madam, your father here doth intimate +The payment of a hundred thousand crowns, +Being but the one half of an entire sum +Disbursed by my father in his wars. +But say that he or we, as neither have, +Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid +A hundred thousand more, in surety of the which +One part of Aquitaine is bound to us, +Although not valued to the money's worth. +If then the King your father will restore +But that one half which is unsatisfied, +We will give up our right in Aquitaine, +And hold fair friendship with his Majesty. +But that, it seems, he little purposeth; +For here he doth demand to have repaid +A hundred thousand crowns, and not demands, +On payment of a hundred thousand crowns, +To have his title live in Aquitaine-- +Which we much rather had depart withal, +And have the money by our father lent, +Than Aquitaine, so gelded as it is. +Dear Princess, were not his requests so far +From reason's yielding, your fair self should make +A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast, +And go well satisfied to France again. + +PRINCESS +You do the King my father too much wrong, +And wrong the reputation of your name, +In so unseeming to confess receipt +Of that which hath so faithfully been paid. + +KING +I do protest I never heard of it; +And if you prove it, I'll repay it back +Or yield up Aquitaine. + +PRINCESS We arrest your word.-- +Boyet, you can produce acquittances +For such a sum from special officers +Of Charles his father. + +KING Satisfy me so. + +BOYET +So please your Grace, the packet is not come +Where that and other specialties are bound. +Tomorrow you shall have a sight of them. + +KING +It shall suffice me; at which interview +All liberal reason I will yield unto. +Meantime receive such welcome at my hand +As honor (without breach of honor) may +Make tender of to thy true worthiness. +You may not come, fair princess, within my gates, +But here without you shall be so received +As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart, +Though so denied fair harbor in my house. +Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell. +Tomorrow shall we visit you again. + +PRINCESS +Sweet health and fair desires consort your Grace. + +KING +Thy own wish wish I thee in every place. +[He exits with Dumaine, +Longaville, and Attendants.] + +BEROWNE, [to Rosaline] Lady, I will commend you to +my own heart. + +ROSALINE Pray you, do my commendations. I would +be glad to see it. + +BEROWNE I would you heard it groan. + +ROSALINE Is the fool sick? + +BEROWNE Sick at the heart. + +ROSALINE Alack, let it blood. + +BEROWNE Would that do it good? + +ROSALINE My physic says "ay." + +BEROWNE Will you prick 't with your eye? + +ROSALINE No point, with my knife. + +BEROWNE Now God save thy life. + +ROSALINE And yours from long living. + +BEROWNE I cannot stay thanksgiving. [He exits.] + +[Enter Dumaine.] + + +DUMAINE, [to Boyet] +Sir, I pray you, a word. What lady is that same? + +BOYET +The heir of Alanson, Katherine her name. + +DUMAINE +A gallant lady, monsieur. Fare you well. [He exits.] + +[Enter Longaville.] + + +LONGAVILLE, [to Boyet] +I beseech you, a word. What is she in the white? + +BOYET +A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light. + +LONGAVILLE +Perchance light in the light. I desire her name. + +BOYET +She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a +shame. + +LONGAVILLE Pray you, sir, whose daughter? + +BOYET Her mother's, I have heard. + +LONGAVILLE God's blessing on your beard! + +BOYET Good sir, be not offended. She is an heir of +Falconbridge. + +LONGAVILLE Nay, my choler is ended. She is a most +sweet lady. + +BOYET Not unlike, sir, that may be. +[Longaville exits.] + +[Enter Berowne.] + + +BEROWNE, [to Boyet] What's her name in the cap? + +BOYET Rosaline, by good hap. + +BEROWNE Is she wedded or no? + +BOYET To her will, sir, or so. + +BEROWNE You are welcome, sir. Adieu. + +BOYET Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you. +[Berowne exits.] + +MARIA +That last is Berowne, the merry madcap lord. +Not a word with him but a jest. + +BOYET And every jest but +a word. + +PRINCESS +It was well done of you to take him at his word. + +BOYET +I was as willing to grapple as he was to board. + +KATHERINE +Two hot sheeps, marry. + +BOYET And wherefore not ships? +No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips. + +KATHERINE +You sheep and I pasture. Shall that finish the jest? + +BOYET +So you grant pasture for me. [He tries to kiss her.] + +KATHERINE Not so, gentle beast, +My lips are no common, though several they be. + +BOYET +Belonging to whom? + +KATHERINE To my fortunes and me. + +PRINCESS +Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree, +This civil war of wits were much better used +On Navarre and his bookmen, for here 'tis abused. + +BOYET +If my observation, which very seldom lies, +By the heart's still rhetoric, disclosed wi' th' eyes, +Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected. + +PRINCESS With what? + +BOYET +With that which we lovers entitle "affected." + +PRINCESS Your reason? + +BOYET +Why, all his behaviors did make their retire +To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire. +His heart like an agate with your print impressed, +Proud with his form, in his eye pride expressed. +His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see, +Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be; +All senses to that sense did make their repair, +To feel only looking on fairest of fair. +Methought all his senses were locked in his eye, +As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy, +Who, tend'ring their own worth from where they +were glassed, +Did point you to buy them along as you passed. +His face's own margent did quote such amazes +That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes. +I'll give you Aquitaine, and all that is his, +An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss. + +PRINCESS, [to her Ladies] +Come, to our pavilion. Boyet is disposed. + +BOYET +But to speak that in words which his eye hath +disclosed. +I only have made a mouth of his eye +By adding a tongue which I know will not lie. + +MARIA +Thou art an old lovemonger and speakest skillfully. + +KATHERINE +He is Cupid's grandfather, and learns news of him. + +ROSALINE +Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is +but grim. + +BOYET +Do you hear, my mad wenches? + +MARIA No. + +BOYET What then, do +you see? + +MARIA +Ay, our way to be gone. + +BOYET You are too hard for me. +[They all exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Braggart Armado and his Boy.] + + +ARMADO Warble, child, make passionate my sense of +hearing. + +BOY [sings] Concolinel. + +ARMADO Sweet air. Go, tenderness of years. [He hands +over a key.] Take this key, give enlargement to the +swain, bring him festinately hither. I must employ +him in a letter to my love. + +BOY Master, will you win your love with a French +brawl? + +ARMADO How meanest thou? Brawling in French? + +BOY No, my complete master, but to jig off a tune at the +tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humor it +with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a +note, sometimes through the throat as if you +swallowed love with singing love, sometimes +through the nose as if you snuffed up love by +smelling love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the +shop of your eyes, with your arms crossed on your +thin-belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your +hands in your pocket like a man after the old +painting; and keep not too long in one tune, but a +snip and away. These are compliments, these are +humors; these betray nice wenches that would be +betrayed without these, and make them men of +note--do you note me?--that most are affected +to these. + +ARMADO How hast thou purchased this experience? + +BOY By my penny of observation. + +ARMADO But O-- but O--. + +BOY "The hobby-horse is forgot." + +ARMADO Call'st thou my love "hobby-horse"? + +BOY No, master. The hobby-horse is but a colt, [aside] +and your love perhaps a hackney.--But have you +forgot your love? + +ARMADO Almost I had. + +BOY Negligent student, learn her by heart. + +ARMADO By heart and in heart, boy. + +BOY And out of heart, master. All those three I will +prove. + +ARMADO What wilt thou prove? + +BOY A man, if I live; and this "by, in, and without," +upon the instant: "by" heart you love her, because +your heart cannot come by her; "in" heart you love +her, because your heart is in love with her; and +"out" of heart you love her, being out of heart that +you cannot enjoy her. + +ARMADO I am all these three. + +BOY And three times as much more, [aside] and yet +nothing at all. + +ARMADO Fetch hither the swain. He must carry me a +letter. + +BOY A message well sympathized--a horse to be ambassador +for an ass. + +ARMADO Ha? Ha? What sayest thou? + +BOY Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, +for he is very slow-gaited. But I go. + +ARMADO The way is but short. Away! + +BOY As swift as lead, sir. + +ARMADO Thy meaning, pretty ingenious? +Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow? + +BOY +Minime, honest master, or rather, master, no. + +ARMADO +I say lead is slow. + +BOY You are too swift, sir, to say so. +Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun? + +ARMADO Sweet smoke of rhetoric! +He reputes me a cannon, and the bullet, that's +he.-- +I shoot thee at the swain. + +BOY Thump, then, and I flee. +[He exits.] + +ARMADO +A most acute juvenal, voluble and free of grace. +By thy favor, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face. +Most rude melancholy, valor gives thee place. +My herald is returned. + +[Enter Boy and Clown Costard.] + + +BOY A wonder, master! +Here's a costard broken in a shin. + +ARMADO +Some enigma, some riddle. Come, thy l'envoi begin. + +COSTARD No egma, no riddle, no l'envoi, no salve in +the mail, sir. O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! No +l'envoi, no l'envoi, no salve, sir, but a plantain. + +ARMADO By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly +thought, my spleen. The heaving of my lungs +provokes me to ridiculous smiling. O pardon me, +my stars! Doth the inconsiderate take salve for +l'envoi, and the word l'envoi for a salve? + +BOY +Do the wise think them other? Is not l'envoi a salve? + +ARMADO +No, page, it is an epilogue or discourse to make plain +Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain. +I will example it: + The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee + Were still at odds, being but three. +There's the moral. Now the l'envoi. + +BOY I will add the l'envoi. Say the moral again. + +ARMADO + The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee + Were still at odds, being but three. + +BOY + Until the goose came out of door + And stayed the odds by adding four. +Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with +my l'envoi. + The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee + Were still at odds, being but three. + +ARMADO + Until the goose came out of door, + Staying the odds by adding four. + +BOY A good l'envoi, ending in the goose. Would you +desire more? + +COSTARD +The boy hath sold him a bargain--a goose, that's +flat.-- +Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat. +To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and +loose. +Let me see: a fat l'envoi--ay, that's a fat goose. + +ARMADO +Come hither, come hither. How did this argument +begin? + +BOY +By saying that a costard was broken in a shin. +Then called you for the l'envoi. + +COSTARD True, and I for a plantain. Thus came your +argument in. Then the boy's fat l'envoi, the goose +that you bought; and he ended the market. + +ARMADO But tell me, how was there a costard broken +in a shin? + +BOY I will tell you sensibly. + +COSTARD Thou hast no feeling of it, Mote. I will speak +that l'envoi. + I, Costard, running out, that was safely within, + Fell over the threshold and broke my shin. + +ARMADO We will talk no more of this matter. + +COSTARD Till there be more matter in the shin. + +ARMADO Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee. + +COSTARD O, marry me to one Frances! I smell some +l'envoi, some goose, in this. + +ARMADO By my sweet soul, I mean, setting thee at +liberty, enfreedoming thy person. Thou wert immured, +restrained, captivated, bound. + +COSTARD True, true; and now you will be my purgation, +and let me loose. + +ARMADO I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance, +and, in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but +this: bear this significant to the country maid +Jaquenetta. [(He gives him a paper.)] There is remuneration +[(giving him a coin,)] for the best ward of +mine honor is rewarding my dependents.--Mote, +follow. [He exits.] + +BOY Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu. +[He exits.] + +COSTARD +My sweet ounce of man's flesh, my incony Jew! +Now will I look to his remuneration. [He looks at the +coin.] "Remuneration"! O, that's the Latin word for +three farthings. Three farthings--remuneration. +"What's the price of this inkle?" "One penny." "No, +I'll give you a remuneration." Why, it carries it! +Remuneration. Why, it is a fairer name than "French +crown." I will never buy and sell out of this word. + +[Enter Berowne.] + + +BEROWNE My good knave Costard, exceedingly well +met. + +COSTARD Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon +may a man buy for a remuneration? + +BEROWNE What is a remuneration? + +COSTARD Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing. + +BEROWNE Why then, three farthing worth of silk. + +COSTARD I thank your Worship. God be wi' you. +[He begins to exit.] + +BEROWNE Stay, slave, I must employ thee. +As thou wilt win my favor, good my knave, +Do one thing for me that I shall entreat. + +COSTARD When would you have it done, sir? + +BEROWNE This afternoon. + +COSTARD Well, I will do it, sir. Fare you well. + +BEROWNE Thou knowest not what it is. + +COSTARD I shall know, sir, when I have done it. + +BEROWNE Why, villain, thou must know first. + +COSTARD I will come to your Worship tomorrow +morning. + +BEROWNE It must be done this afternoon. Hark, slave, +it is but this: +The Princess comes to hunt here in the park, +And in her train there is a gentle lady. +When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her +name, +And Rosaline they call her. Ask for her, +And to her white hand see thou do commend +This sealed-up counsel. There's thy guerdon. [He +gives him money.] Go. + +COSTARD Gardon. [He looks at the money.] O sweet +gardon! Better than remuneration, a 'levenpence +farthing better! Most sweet gardon. I will do it, sir, +in print. Gardon! Remuneration! [He exits.] + +BEROWNE +And I forsooth in love! I that have been love's whip, +A very beadle to a humorous sigh, +A critic, nay, a nightwatch constable, +A domineering pedant o'er the boy, +Than whom no mortal so magnificent. +This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, +This Signior Junior, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid, +Regent of love rhymes, lord of folded arms, +Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, +Liege of all loiterers and malcontents, +Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces, +Sole imperator and great general +Of trotting paritors--O my little heart! +And I to be a corporal of his field +And wear his colors like a tumbler's hoop! +What? I love, I sue, I seek a wife? +A woman, that is like a German clock, +Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, +And never going aright, being a watch, +But being watched that it may still go right. +Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all. +And, among three, to love the worst of all, +A whitely wanton with a velvet brow, +With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes. +Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed +Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard. +And I to sigh for her, to watch for her, +To pray for her! Go to. It is a plague +That Cupid will impose for my neglect +Of his almighty dreadful little might. +Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, groan. +Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Princess, a Forester, her Ladies, Boyet and +her other Lords.] + + +PRINCESS +Was that the King that spurred his horse so hard +Against the steep uprising of the hill? + +FORESTER +I know not, but I think it was not he. + +PRINCESS +Whoe'er he was, he showed a mounting mind.-- +Well, lords, today we shall have our dispatch. +Or Saturday we will return to France.-- +Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush +That we must stand and play the murderer in? + +FORESTER +Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice, +A stand where you may make the fairest shoot. + +PRINCESS +I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot, +And thereupon thou speakst "the fairest shoot." + +FORESTER +Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so. + +PRINCESS +What, what? First praise me, and again say no? +O short-lived pride. Not fair? Alack, for woe! + +FORESTER +Yes, madam, fair. + +PRINCESS Nay, never paint me now. +Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. +Here, good my glass, take this for telling true. +[She gives him money.] +Fair payment for foul words is more than due. + +FORESTER +Nothing but fair is that which you inherit. + +PRINCESS +See, see, my beauty will be saved by merit. +O heresy in fair, fit for these days! +A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. +But come, the bow. [He hands her a bow.] Now +mercy goes to kill, +And shooting well is then accounted ill. +Thus will I save my credit in the shoot: +Not wounding, pity would not let me do 't; +If wounding, then it was to show my skill, +That more for praise than purpose meant to kill. +And out of question so it is sometimes: +Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, +When for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, +We bend to that the working of the heart; +As I for praise alone now seek to spill +The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill. + +BOYET +Do not curst wives hold that self sovereignty +Only for praise' sake when they strive to be +Lords o'er their lords? + +PRINCESS +Only for praise; and praise we may afford +To any lady that subdues a lord. + +[Enter Clown Costard.] + + +BOYET +Here comes a member of the commonwealth. + +COSTARD God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the +head lady? + +PRINCESS Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that +have no heads. + +COSTARD Which is the greatest lady, the highest? + +PRINCESS The thickest and the tallest. + +COSTARD +The thickest and the tallest: it is so, truth is +truth. +An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit, +One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be +fit. +Are not you the chief woman? You are the thickest +here. + +PRINCESS What's your will, sir? What's your will? + +COSTARD I have a letter from Monsieur Berowne to +one Lady Rosaline. + +PRINCESS +O, thy letter, thy letter! He's a good friend of mine. +Stand aside, good bearer.--Boyet, you can carve. +Break up this capon. + +BOYET, [taking the letter] I am bound to serve. +This letter is mistook; it importeth none here. +It is writ to Jaquenetta. + +PRINCESS We will read it, I swear. +Break the neck of the wax, and everyone give ear. + +BOYET [reads.] By heaven, that thou art fair is most +infallible, true that thou art beauteous, truth itself +that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful +than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration +on thy heroical vassal. The magnanimous and +most illustrate King Cophetua set eye upon the pernicious +and indubitate beggar Zenelophon; and he it +was that might rightly say "Veni, vidi, vici," which to +annothanize in the vulgar (O base and obscure vulgar!) +videlicet, "He came, see, and overcame": He +came, one; see, two; overcame, three. Who came? The +King. Why did he come? To see. Why did he see? To +overcome. To whom came he? To the beggar. What +saw he? The beggar. Who overcame he? The beggar. +The conclusion is victory. On whose side? The +King's. The captive is enriched. On whose side? The +beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial. On whose side? +The King's--no, on both in one, or one in both. I am +the King, for so stands the comparison; thou the +beggar, for so witnesseth thy lowliness. Shall I command +thy love? I may. Shall I enforce thy love? I could. +Shall I entreat thy love? I will. What shalt thou +exchange for rags? Robes. For tittles? Titles. For thyself? +Me. Thus expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy +foot, my eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every +part. + Thine, in the dearest design of industry, +Don Adriano de Armado. + Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar + 'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey. + Submissive fall his princely feet before, + And he from forage will incline to play. + But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then? + Food for his rage, repasture for his den. + +PRINCESS +What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter? +What vane? What weathercock? Did you ever hear +better? + +BOYET +I am much deceived but I remember the style. + +PRINCESS +Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile. + +BOYET +This Armado is a Spaniard that keeps here in court, +A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes +sport +To the Prince and his bookmates. + +PRINCESS, [to Costard] Thou, fellow, a word. +Who gave thee this letter? + +COSTARD I told you: my lord. + +PRINCESS +To whom shouldst thou give it? + +COSTARD From my lord to my +lady. + +PRINCESS From which lord to which lady? + +COSTARD +From my Lord Berowne, a good master of mine, +To a lady of France that he called Rosaline. + +PRINCESS +Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away. +[To Rosaline.] Here, sweet, put up this; 'twill be +thine another day. +[The Princess, Katherine, Lords, and +Forester exit. Boyet, Rosaline, Maria, +and Costard remain.] + +BOYET +Who is the shooter? Who is the shooter? + +ROSALINE Shall I +teach you to know? + +BOYET +Ay, my continent of beauty. + +ROSALINE Why, she that bears the bow. +Finely put off. + +BOYET +My lady goes to kill horns, but if thou marry, +Hang me by the neck if horns that year miscarry. +Finely put on. + +ROSALINE +Well, then, I am the shooter. + +BOYET And who is your deer? + +ROSALINE +If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near. +Finely put on, indeed. + +MARIA +You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes at +the brow. + +BOYET +But she herself is hit lower. Have I hit her now? + +ROSALINE Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, +that was a man when King Pippen of France was a +little boy, as touching the hit it? + +BOYET So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a +woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little +wench, as touching the hit it. + +ROSALINE [sings] + Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it, + Thou canst not hit it, my good man. + +BOYET [sings] + An I cannot, cannot, cannot, + An I cannot, another can. +[Rosaline exits.] + +COSTARD +By my troth, most pleasant. How both did fit it! + +MARIA +A mark marvelous well shot, for they both did hit +it. + +BOYET +A mark! O, mark but that mark. "A mark," says my +lady. +Let the mark have a prick in 't to mete at, if it may +be. + +MARIA +Wide o' the bow hand! I' faith, your hand is out. + +COSTARD +Indeed, he must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the +clout. + +BOYET, [to Maria] +An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. + +COSTARD +Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. + +MARIA +Come, come, you talk greasily. Your lips grow foul. + +COSTARD, [to Boyet] +She's too hard for you at pricks, sir. Challenge her +to bowl. + +BOYET +I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. +[Boyet and Maria exit.] + +COSTARD +By my soul, a swain, a most simple clown. +Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him +down. +O' my troth, most sweet jests, most incony vulgar +wit, +When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it +were, so fit. +Armado o' th' one side, O, a most dainty man! +To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan. +To see him kiss his hand, and how most sweetly he +will swear. +And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit! +Ah heavens, it is a most pathetical nit. +[Shout within.] +Sola, sola! +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Dull the Constable, Holofernes the Pedant, and +Nathaniel the Curate.] + + +NATHANIEL Very reverend sport, truly, and done in the +testimony of a good conscience. + +HOLOFERNES The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in +blood, ripe as the pomewater, who now hangeth +like a jewel in the ear of caelo, the sky, the welkin, +the heaven, and anon falleth like a crab on the face +of terra, the soil, the land, the earth. + +NATHANIEL Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are +sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least. But, sir, I +assure you, it was a buck of the first head. + +HOLOFERNES Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. + +DULL 'Twas not a haud credo, 'twas a pricket. + +HOLOFERNES Most barbarous intimation! Yet a kind of +insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of explication; +facere, as it were, replication, or rather, ostentare, to +show, as it were, his inclination, after his undressed, +unpolished, uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or +rather unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, +to insert again my haud credo for a deer. + +DULL I said the deer was not a haud credo, 'twas a +pricket. + +HOLOFERNES Twice-sod simplicity, bis coctus! +O thou monster ignorance, how deformed dost thou +look! + +NATHANIEL +Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred +in a book. +He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk +ink. His intellect is not replenished. He is only an +animal, only sensible in the duller parts. +And such barren plants are set before us that we +thankful should be-- +Which we of taste and feeling are--for those parts +that do fructify in us more than he. +For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, +or a fool, +So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in +a school. +But omne bene, say I, being of an old father's mind: +Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. + +DULL +You two are bookmen. Can you tell me by your wit +What was a month old at Cain's birth that's not +five weeks old as yet? + +HOLOFERNES Dictynna, goodman Dull, Dictynna, +goodman Dull. + +DULL What is "dictima"? + +NATHANIEL +A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon. + +HOLOFERNES +The moon was a month old when Adam was no +more. +And raught not to five weeks when he came to +fivescore. +Th' allusion holds in the exchange. + +DULL 'Tis true indeed. The collusion holds in the +exchange. + +HOLOFERNES God comfort thy capacity! I say, th' allusion +holds in the exchange. + +DULL And I say the pollution holds in the exchange, for +the moon is never but a month old. And I say besides +that, 'twas a pricket that the Princess killed. + +HOLOFERNES Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal +epitaph on the death of the deer? And, to humor +the ignorant, call I the deer the Princess killed a +pricket. + +NATHANIEL Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge, so it +shall please you to abrogate scurrility. + +HOLOFERNES I will something affect the letter, for it +argues facility. +The preyful princess pierced and pricked +a pretty pleasing pricket, + Some say a sore, but not a sore till now made + sore with shooting. +The dogs did yell. Put "l" to "sore," then sorel +jumps from thicket, + Or pricket sore, or else sorel. The people fall + a-hooting. +If sore be sore, then "L" to "sore" makes fifty +sores o' sorel. +Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one +more "L." + +NATHANIEL A rare talent. + +DULL, [aside] If a talent be a claw, look how he claws +him with a talent. + +HOLOFERNES This is a gift that I have, simple, simple-- +a foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, +figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, +revolutions. These are begot in the ventricle +of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, +and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But +the gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I +am thankful for it. + +NATHANIEL Sir, I praise the Lord for you, and so may +my parishioners, for their sons are well tutored by +you, and their daughters profit very greatly under +you. You are a good member of the +commonwealth. + +HOLOFERNES Mehercle, if their sons be ingenious, +they shall want no instruction; if their daughters be +capable, I will put it to them. But Vir sapis qui pauca +loquitur. A soul feminine saluteth us. + +[Enter Jaquenetta and the Clown Costard.] + + +JAQUENETTA, [to Nathaniel] God give you good morrow, +Master Person. + +HOLOFERNES Master Person, quasi pierce one. And +if one should be pierced, which is the one? + +COSTARD Marry, Master Schoolmaster, he that is likeliest +to a hogshead. + +HOLOFERNES Of piercing a hogshead! A good luster +of conceit in a turf of earth; fire enough for a flint, +pearl enough for a swine. 'Tis pretty, it is well. + +JAQUENETTA, [to Nathaniel] Good Master Parson, be so +good as read me this letter. It was given me by +Costard, and sent me from Don Armado. I beseech +you, read it. +[She hands Nathaniel a paper, which he looks at.] + +HOLOFERNES + Facile precor gelida quando peccas omnia sub umbra. +Ruminat-- +and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I may speak of +thee as the traveler doth of Venice: + Venetia, Venetia, + Chi non ti vede, non ti pretia. +Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! Who understandeth +thee not, loves thee not. [(He sings.)] Ut, re, sol, la, +mi, fa. [(To Nathaniel.)] Under pardon, sir, what are +the contents? Or rather, as Horace says in his-- +[(Looking at the letter.)] What, my soul, verses? + +NATHANIEL Ay, sir, and very learned. + +HOLOFERNES Let me hear a staff, a stanza, a verse, +Lege, domine. + +NATHANIEL, [reads] + If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? + Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed! + Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove. + Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers + bowed. + Study his bias leaves and makes his book thine eyes, + Where all those pleasures live that art would + comprehend. + If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice. + Well-learned is that tongue that well can thee + commend. + All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder; + Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire. + Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful +thunder, + Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire. + Celestial as thou art, O, pardon love this wrong, + That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue. + +HOLOFERNES You find not the apostrophus, and so +miss the accent. Let me supervise the canzonet. +[He takes the paper.] Here are only numbers ratified, +but, for the elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of +poesy--caret. Ovidius Naso was the man. And why +indeed "Naso," but for smelling out the odoriferous +flowers of fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is +nothing: so doth the hound his master, the ape his +keeper, the tired horse his rider.--But damosella +virgin, was this directed to you? + +JAQUENETTA Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Berowne, one +of the strange queen's lords. + +HOLOFERNES I will overglance the superscript: "To +the snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady +Rosaline." I will look again on the intellect of the +letter for the nomination of the party writing to +the person written unto: "Your Ladyship's in all +desired employment, Berowne." Sir Nathaniel, this +Berowne is one of the votaries with the King, and +here he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the +stranger queen's: which accidentally, or by the way +of progression, hath miscarried. [To Jaquenetta.] +Trip and go, my sweet. Deliver this paper into the +royal hand of the King. It may concern much. Stay +not thy compliment. I forgive thy duty. Adieu. + +JAQUENETTA Good Costard, go with me.--Sir, God +save your life. + +COSTARD Have with thee, my girl. +[Costard and Jaquenetta exit.] + +NATHANIEL Sir, you have done this in the fear of God +very religiously; and, as a certain Father saith-- + +HOLOFERNES Sir, tell not me of the Father. I do fear +colorable colors. But to return to the verses: did +they please you, Sir Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL Marvelous well for the pen. + +HOLOFERNES I do dine today at the father's of a certain +pupil of mine, where if, before repast, it shall +please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, +on my privilege I have with the parents of the +foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; +where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, +neither savoring of poetry, wit, nor invention. +I beseech your society. + +NATHANIEL And thank you too; for society, saith the +text, is the happiness of life. + +HOLOFERNES And certes the text most infallibly concludes +it. [To Dull.] Sir, I do invite you too. You shall +not say me nay. Pauca verba. Away! The gentles are +at their game, and we will to our recreation. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Berowne with a paper in his hand, alone.] + + +BEROWNE The King, he is hunting the deer; I am +coursing myself. They have pitched a toil; I am +toiling in a pitch--pitch that defiles. Defile! A foul +word. Well, "set thee down, sorrow"; for so they +say the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool. Well +proved, wit. By the Lord, this love is as mad as Ajax. +It kills sheep, it kills me, I a sheep. Well proved +again, o' my side. I will not love. If I do, hang me. I' +faith, I will not. O, but her eye! By this light, but for +her eye I would not love her; yes, for her two eyes. +Well, I do nothing in the world but lie, and lie in my +throat. By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to +rhyme, and to be melancholy. And here is part of my +rhyme, and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one +o' my sonnets already. The clown bore it, the fool +sent it, and the lady hath it. Sweet clown, sweeter +fool, sweetest lady. By the world, I would not care a +pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one with +a paper. God give him grace to groan. +[He stands aside.] + +[The King entereth with a paper.] + + +KING Ay me! + +BEROWNE, [aside] Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet +Cupid. Thou hast thumped him with thy birdbolt +under the left pap. In faith, secrets! + +KING [reads] + So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not + To those fresh morning drops upon the rose + As thy eyebeams, when their fresh rays have smote + The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows. + Nor shines the silver moon one-half so bright + Through the transparent bosom of the deep + As doth thy face, through tears of mine, give light. + Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep. + No drop but as a coach doth carry thee; + So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. + Do but behold the tears that swell in me, + And they thy glory through my grief will show. + But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep + My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. + O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel + No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell. + +How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper. +Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here? + +[Enter Longaville, with papers. The King steps aside.] + +What, Longaville, and reading! Listen, ear. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear! + +LONGAVILLE Ay me! I am forsworn. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers! + +KING, [aside] +In love, I hope! Sweet fellowship in shame. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +One drunkard loves another of the name. + +LONGAVILLE +Am I the first that have been perjured so? + +BEROWNE, [aside] +I could put thee in comfort: not by two that I know. +Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of +society, +The shape of love's Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity. + +LONGAVILLE +I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move. +[Reads.] O sweet Maria, empress of my love-- +These numbers will I tear and write in prose. +[He tears the paper.] + +BEROWNE, [aside] +O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose. +Disfigure not his shop! + +LONGAVILLE, [taking another paper] This same shall go. +[He reads the sonnet.] + Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, + 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, + Persuade my heart to this false perjury? + Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. + A woman I forswore, but I will prove, + Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee. + My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love. + Thy grace being gained cures all disgrace in me. + Vows are but breath, and breath a vapor is. + Then thou, fair sun, which on my Earth dost + shine, + Exhal'st this vapor-vow; in thee it is. + If broken, then, it is no fault of mine. + If by me broke, what fool is not so wise + To lose an oath to win a paradise? + +BEROWNE, [aside] +This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity, +A green goose a goddess. Pure, pure idolatry. +God amend us, God amend. We are much out o' th' +way. + +LONGAVILLE +By whom shall I send this?--Company? Stay. +[He steps aside.] + +[Enter Dumaine, with a paper.] + + +BEROWNE, [aside] +All hid, all hid--an old infant play. +Like a demigod here sit I in the sky, +And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'ereye. +More sacks to the mill. O heavens, I have my wish. +Dumaine transformed! Four woodcocks in a dish. + +DUMAINE O most divine Kate! + +BEROWNE, [aside] O most profane coxcomb! + +DUMAINE +By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye! + +BEROWNE, [aside] +By Earth, she is not, corporal. There you lie. + +DUMAINE +Her amber hairs for foul hath amber quoted. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +An amber-colored raven was well noted. + +DUMAINE +As upright as the cedar. + +BEROWNE, [aside] Stoop, I say. +Her shoulder is with child. + +DUMAINE As fair as day. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +Ay, as some days, but then no sun must shine. + +DUMAINE +O, that I had my wish! + +LONGAVILLE, [aside] And I had mine! + +KING, [aside] And mine too, good Lord! + +BEROWNE, [aside] +Amen, so I had mine. Is not that a good word? + +DUMAINE +I would forget her, but a fever she +Reigns in my blood, and will remembered be. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +A fever in your blood? Why, then incision +Would let her out in saucers! Sweet misprision. + +DUMAINE +Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ. + +BEROWNE, [aside] +Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit. + +DUMAINE [reads his sonnet.] + On a day--alack the day!-- + Love, whose month is ever May, + Spied a blossom passing fair, + Playing in the wanton air. + Through the velvet leaves the wind, + All unseen, can passage find; + That the lover, sick to death, + Wished himself the heaven's breath. + "Air," quoth he, "thy cheeks may blow. + Air, would I might triumph so!" + But, alack, my hand is sworn + Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn. + Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, + Youth so apt to pluck a sweet. + Do not call it sin in me + That I am forsworn for thee-- + Thou for whom Jove would swear + Juno but an Ethiope were, + And deny himself for Jove, + Turning mortal for thy love. +This will I send, and something else more plain +That shall express my true love's fasting pain. +O, would the King, Berowne, and Longaville +Were lovers too! Ill to example ill +Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note, +For none offend where all alike do dote. + +LONGAVILLE, [coming forward] +Dumaine, thy love is far from charity, +That in love's grief desir'st society. +You may look pale, but I should blush, I know, +To be o'er-heard and taken napping so. + +KING, [coming forward] +[To Longaville.] Come, sir, you blush! As his, your +case is such. +You chide at him, offending twice as much. +You do not love Maria? Longaville +Did never sonnet for her sake compile, +Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart +His loving bosom to keep down his heart? +I have been closely shrouded in this bush +And marked you both, and for you both did blush. +I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion, +Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion. +"Ay, me!" says one. "O Jove!" the other cries. +One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes. +[To Longaville.] You would for paradise break faith +and troth, +[To Dumaine.] And Jove, for your love, would +infringe an oath. +What will Berowne say when that he shall hear +Faith infringed, which such zeal did swear? +How will he scorn, how will he spend his wit! +How will he triumph, leap, and laugh at it! +For all the wealth that ever I did see, +I would not have him know so much by me. + +BEROWNE, [coming forward] +Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. +Ah, good my liege, I pray thee pardon me. +Good heart, what grace hast thou thus to reprove +These worms for loving, that art most in love? +Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears +There is no certain princess that appears. +You'll not be perjured, 'tis a hateful thing! +Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting! +But are you not ashamed? Nay, are you not, +All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot? +[To Longaville.] You found his mote, the King your +mote did see, +But I a beam do find in each of three. +O, what a scene of fool'ry have I seen, +Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow, and of teen! +O me, with what strict patience have I sat, +To see a king transformed to a gnat! +To see great Hercules whipping a gig, +And profound Solomon to tune a jig, +And Nestor play at pushpin with the boys, +And critic Timon laugh at idle toys. +Where lies thy grief, O tell me, good Dumaine? +And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain? +And where my liege's? All about the breast! +A caudle, ho! + +KING Too bitter is thy jest. +Are we betrayed thus to thy overview? + +BEROWNE +Not you to me, but I betrayed by you. +I, that am honest, I, that hold it sin +To break the vow I am engaged in. +I am betrayed by keeping company +With men like you, men of inconstancy. +When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme? +Or groan for Joan? or spend a minute's time +In pruning me? When shall you hear that I +Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye, +A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist, +A leg, a limb-- + +[Enter Jaquenetta, with a paper, and Clown Costard.] +[Berowne begins to exit.] + + +KING Soft, whither away so fast? +A true man, or a thief, that gallops so? + +BEROWNE +I post from love. Good lover, let me go. + +JAQUENETTA +God bless the King. + +KING What present hast thou there? + +COSTARD +Some certain treason. + +KING What makes treason here? + +COSTARD +Nay, it makes nothing, sir. + +KING If it mar nothing neither, +The treason and you go in peace away together. + +JAQUENETTA +I beseech your Grace, let this letter be read. +Our person misdoubts it. 'Twas treason, he said. + +KING +Berowne, read it over. +[Berowne reads the letter.] +[To Jaquenetta.] Where hadst thou it? + +JAQUENETTA Of Costard. + +KING, [to Costard] Where hadst thou it? + +COSTARD Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio. +[Berowne tears the paper.] + +KING, [to Berowne] +How now, what is in you? Why dost thou tear it? + +BEROWNE +A toy, my liege, a toy. Your Grace needs not fear it. + +LONGAVILLE +It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear +it. + +DUMAINE, [picking up the papers] +It is Berowne's writing, and here is his name. + +BEROWNE, [to Costard] +Ah, you whoreson loggerhead, you were born to do +me shame.-- +Guilty, my lord, guilty. I confess, I confess. + +KING What? + +BEROWNE +That you three fools lacked me fool to make up +the mess. +He, he, and you--and you, my liege--and I +Are pickpurses in love, and we deserve to die. +O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more. + +DUMAINE +Now the number is even. + +BEROWNE True, true, we are four. +[Pointing to Jaquenetta and Costard.] Will these +turtles be gone? + +KING Hence, sirs. Away. + +COSTARD +Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay. +[Jaquenetta and Costard exit.] + +BEROWNE +Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace. + As true we are as flesh and blood can be. +The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face; + Young blood doth not obey an old decree. +We cannot cross the cause why we were born; +Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn. + +KING +What, did these rent lines show some love of thine? + +BEROWNE +Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly +Rosaline +That, like a rude and savage man of Ind + At the first op'ning of the gorgeous East, +Bows not his vassal head and, strucken blind, + Kisses the base ground with obedient breast? +What peremptory eagle-sighted eye + Dares look upon the heaven of her brow +That is not blinded by her majesty? + +KING + What zeal, what fury, hath inspired thee now? +My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon, + She an attending star scarce seen a light. + +BEROWNE +My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Berowne. + O, but for my love, day would turn to night! +Of all complexions the culled sovereignty + Do meet as at a fair in her fair cheek. +Where several worthies make one dignity, + Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek. +Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues-- + Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not! +To things of sale a seller's praise belongs. + She passes praise. Then praise too short doth blot. +A withered hermit, fivescore winters worn, + Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye. +Beauty doth varnish age, as if newborn, + And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. +O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine! + +KING + By heaven, thy love is black as ebony. + +BEROWNE +Is ebony like her? O word divine! + A wife of such wood were felicity. +O, who can give an oath? Where is a book, + That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack +If that she learn not of her eye to look? + No face is fair that is not full so black. + +KING +O, paradox! Black is the badge of hell, + The hue of dungeons and the school of night, +And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well. + +BEROWNE + Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. +O, if in black my lady's brows be decked, + It mourns that painting and usurping hair +Should ravish doters with a false aspect: + And therefore is she born to make black fair. +Her favor turns the fashion of the days, + For native blood is counted painting now. +And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise, + Paints itself black to imitate her brow. + +DUMAINE +To look like her are chimney-sweepers black. + +LONGAVILLE + And since her time are colliers counted bright. + +KING +And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack. + +DUMAINE + Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light. + +BEROWNE +Your mistresses dare never come in rain, + For fear their colors should be washed away. + +KING +'Twere good yours did, for, sir, to tell you plain, + I'll find a fairer face not washed today. + +BEROWNE +I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here. + +KING + No devil will fright thee then so much as she. + +DUMAINE +I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear. + +LONGAVILLE, [showing his shoe] + Look, here's thy love; my foot and her face see. + +BEROWNE +O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes. + Her feet were much too dainty for such tread. + +DUMAINE +O vile! Then as she goes, what upward lies + The street should see as she walked overhead. + +KING +But what of this? Are we not all in love? + +BEROWNE + Nothing so sure, and thereby all forsworn. + +KING +Then leave this chat, and, good Berowne, now prove + Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn. + +DUMAINE +Ay, marry, there, some flattery for this evil. + +LONGAVILLE + O, some authority how to proceed, +Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil. + +DUMAINE + Some salve for perjury. + +BEROWNE O, 'tis more than need. +Have at you, then, affection's men-at-arms! +O, we have made a vow to study, lords, +And in that vow we have forsworn our books. +For when would you, my liege, or you, or you, +In leaden contemplation have found out +Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes +Of beauty's tutors have enriched you with? +Other slow arts entirely keep the brain +And therefore, finding barren practicers, +Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil. +But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, +Lives not alone immured in the brain, +But with the motion of all elements +Courses as swift as thought in every power, +And gives to every power a double power, +Above their functions and their offices. +It adds a precious seeing to the eye. +A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind. +A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, +When the suspicious head of theft is stopped. +Love's feeling is more soft and sensible +Than are the tender horns of cockled snails. +Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste. +For valor, is not love a Hercules, +Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? +Subtle as Sphinx, as sweet and musical +As bright Apollo's lute strung with his hair. +And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods +Make heaven drowsy with the harmony. +Never durst poet touch a pen to write +Until his ink were tempered with love's sighs. +O, then his lines would ravish savage ears +And plant in tyrants mild humility. +From women's eyes this doctrine I derive. +They sparkle still the right Promethean fire. +They are the books, the arts, the academes +That show, contain, and nourish all the world. +Else none at all in ought proves excellent. +Then fools you were these women to forswear, +Or, keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools. +For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love, +Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men, +Or for men's sake, the authors of these women, +Or women's sake, by whom we men are men, +Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves, +Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths. +It is religion to be thus forsworn, +For charity itself fulfills the law, +And who can sever love from charity? + +KING +Saint Cupid, then, and, soldiers, to the field! + +BEROWNE +Advance your standards, and upon them, lords. +Pell-mell, down with them. But be first advised +In conflict that you get the sun of them. + +LONGAVILLE +Now to plain dealing. Lay these glozes by. +Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France? + +KING +And win them, too. Therefore let us devise +Some entertainment for them in their tents. + +BEROWNE +First, from the park let us conduct them thither. +Then homeward every man attach the hand +Of his fair mistress. In the afternoon +We will with some strange pastime solace them, +Such as the shortness of the time can shape; +For revels, dances, masques, and merry hours +Forerun fair love, strewing her way with flowers. + +KING +Away, away! No time shall be omitted +That will betime and may by us be fitted. + +BEROWNE +Allons! Allons! Sowed cockle reaped no corn, + And justice always whirls in equal measure. +Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn; + If so, our copper buys no better treasure. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Holofernes the Pedant, Nathaniel the Curate, +and Dull the Constable.] + + +HOLOFERNES Satis quid sufficit. + +NATHANIEL I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at +dinner have been sharp and sententious, pleasant +without scurrility, witty without affection, audacious +without impudency, learned without opinion, +and strange without heresy. I did converse this +quondam day with a companion of the King's, who +is intituled, nominated, or called Don Adriano de +Armado. + +HOLOFERNES Novi hominem tanquam te. His humor +is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, +his eye ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general +behavior vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is +too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it +were, too peregrinate, as I may call it. + +NATHANIEL A most singular and choice epithet. +[Draw out his table book.] + +HOLOFERNES He draweth out the thread of his verbosity +finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor +such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and +point-devise companions, such rackers of orthography, +as to speak "dout," fine, when he should +say "doubt"; "det" when he should pronounce +"debt"--d, e, b, t, not d, e, t. He clepeth a calf +"cauf," half "hauf," neighbor vocatur "nebor"; +neigh abbreviated ne. This is abhominable--which +he would call "abominable." It insinuateth me of +insanie. Ne intelligis, domine? To make frantic, +lunatic. + +NATHANIEL Laus Deo, bone intelligo. + +HOLOFERNES Bone? Bone for bene? Priscian a little +scratched; 'twill serve. + +[Enter Armado the Braggart, Boy, and Costard.] + + +NATHANIEL Videsne quis venit? + +HOLOFERNES Video, et gaudeo. + +ARMADO Chirrah. + +HOLOFERNES Quare "chirrah," not "sirrah"? + +ARMADO Men of peace, well encountered. + +HOLOFERNES Most military sir, salutation. + +BOY, [aside to Costard] They have been at a great feast +of languages and stolen the scraps. + +COSTARD, [aside to Boy] O, they have lived long on the +almsbasket of words. I marvel thy master hath not +eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the +head as honorificabilitudinitatibus. Thou art easier +swallowed than a flapdragon. + +BOY, [aside to Costard] Peace, the peal begins. + +ARMADO, [to Holofernes] Monsieur, are you not +lettered? + +BOY Yes, yes, he teaches boys the hornbook.--What is +a, b spelled backward, with the horn on his head? + +HOLOFERNES Ba, pueritia, with a horn added. + +BOY Ba, most silly sheep, with a horn.--You hear his +learning. + +HOLOFERNES Quis, quis, thou consonant? + +BOY The last of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or +the fifth, if I. + +HOLOFERNES I will repeat them: a, e, i-- + +BOY The sheep. The other two concludes it: o, u. + +ARMADO Now by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, +a sweet touch, a quick venue of wit! Snip, snap, +quick and home. It rejoiceth my intellect. True +wit. + +BOY Offered by a child to an old man--which is +wit-old. + +HOLOFERNES What is the figure? What is the figure? + +BOY Horns. + +HOLOFERNES Thou disputes like an infant. Go whip thy +gig. + +BOY Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip +about your infamy--unum cita--a gig of a cuckold's +horn. + +COSTARD An I had but one penny in the world, thou +shouldst have it to buy gingerbread! Hold, there is +the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou +halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon egg of discretion. +[He gives him money.] O, an the heavens were +so pleased that thou wert but my bastard, what a +joyful father wouldest thou make me! Go to, thou +hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers' ends, as they say. + +HOLOFERNES Oh, I smell false Latin! Dunghill for +unguem. + +ARMADO Arts-man, preambulate. We will be singuled +from the barbarous. Do you not educate youth at +the charge-house on the top of the mountain? + +HOLOFERNES Or mons, the hill. + +ARMADO At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain. + +HOLOFERNES I do, sans question. + +ARMADO Sir, it is the King's most sweet pleasure and +affection to congratulate the Princess at her pavilion +in the posteriors of this day, which the rude +multitude call the afternoon. + +HOLOFERNES "The posterior of the day," most generous +sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for +"the afternoon"; the word is well culled, chose, +sweet, and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure. + +ARMADO Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my +familiar, I do assure you, very good friend. For +what is inward between us, let it pass. I do beseech +thee, remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee apparel +thy head. And among other important and most +serious designs, and of great import indeed, too-- +but let that pass; for I must tell thee, it will please his +Grace, by the world, sometimes to lean upon my +poor shoulder and with his royal finger thus dally +with my excrement, with my mustachio--but, +sweetheart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no +fable! Some certain special honors it pleaseth his +Greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of +travel, that hath seen the world--but let that pass. +The very all of all is--but sweetheart, I do implore +secrecy--that the King would have me present the +Princess, sweet chuck, with some delightful ostentation, +or show, or pageant, or antic, or firework. +Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet +self are good at such eruptions and sudden breaking +out of mirth, as it were, I have acquainted you +withal to the end to crave your assistance. + +HOLOFERNES Sir, you shall present before her the Nine +Worthies.--Sir Nathaniel, as concerning some +entertainment of time, some show in the posterior +of this day, to be rendered by our assistance, the +King's command, and this most gallant, illustrate, +and learned gentleman, before the Princess--I say, +none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies. + +NATHANIEL Where will you find men worthy enough to +present them? + +HOLOFERNES Joshua, yourself; myself; and this gallant +gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus. This swain, because +of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey +the Great; the page, Hercules-- + +ARMADO Pardon, sir--error. He is not quantity +enough for that Worthy's thumb; he is not so big as +the end of his club! + +HOLOFERNES Shall I have audience? He shall present +Hercules in minority. His enter and exit shall be +strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for +that purpose. + +BOY An excellent device. So, if any of the audience +hiss, you may cry "Well done, Hercules, now thou +crushest the snake." That is the way to make an +offense gracious, though few have the grace to do it. + +ARMADO For the rest of the Worthies? + +HOLOFERNES I will play three myself. + +BOY Thrice-worthy gentleman! + +ARMADO, [to Holofernes] Shall I tell you a thing? + +HOLOFERNES We attend. + +ARMADO We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I +beseech you, follow. + +HOLOFERNES Via, goodman Dull. Thou hast spoken no +word all this while. + +DULL Nor understood none neither, sir. + +HOLOFERNES Allons! We will employ thee. + +DULL I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on +the tabor to the Worthies and let them dance the +hay. + +HOLOFERNES Most dull, honest Dull. To our sport! +Away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Ladies (the Princess, Rosaline, +Katherine, and Maria.)] + + +PRINCESS +Sweethearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, +If fairings come thus plentifully in. +A lady walled about with diamonds! +Look you what I have from the loving king. +[She shows a jewel.] + +ROSALINE +Madam, came nothing else along with that? + +PRINCESS +Nothing but this? Yes, as much love in rhyme +As would be crammed up in a sheet of paper +Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all, +That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name. + +ROSALINE +That was the way to make his godhead wax, +For he hath been five thousand year a boy. + +KATHERINE +Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows, too. + +ROSALINE +You'll ne'er be friends with him. He killed your +sister. + +KATHERINE +He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy, +And so she died. Had she been light like you, +Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, +She might ha' been a grandam ere she died. +And so may you, for a light heart lives long. + +ROSALINE +What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light +word? + +KATHERINE +A light condition in a beauty dark. + +ROSALINE +We need more light to find your meaning out. + +KATHERINE +You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff; +Therefore I'll darkly end the argument. + +ROSALINE +Look what you do, you do it still i' th' dark. + +KATHERINE +So do not you, for you are a light wench. + +ROSALINE +Indeed, I weigh not you, and therefore light. + +KATHERINE +You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me. + +ROSALINE +Great reason: for past care is still past cure. + +PRINCESS +Well bandied both; a set of wit well played. +But, Rosaline, you have a favor too. +Who sent it? And what is it? + +ROSALINE I would you knew. +An if my face were but as fair as yours, +My favor were as great. Be witness this. +[She shows a gift.] +Nay, I have verses too, I thank Berowne; +The numbers true; and were the numb'ring too, +I were the fairest goddess on the ground. +I am compared to twenty thousand fairs. +O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter. + +PRINCESS Anything like? + +ROSALINE +Much in the letters, nothing in the praise. + +PRINCESS +Beauteous as ink: a good conclusion. + +KATHERINE +Fair as a text B in a copybook. + +ROSALINE +Ware pencils, ho! Let me not die your debtor, +My red dominical, my golden letter. +O, that your face were not so full of O's! + +PRINCESS +A pox of that jest! And I beshrew all shrows. +But, Katherine, what was sent to you +From fair Dumaine? + +KATHERINE +Madam, this glove. [She shows the glove.] + +PRINCESS Did he not send you twain? + +KATHERINE Yes, madam, and moreover, +Some thousand verses of a faithful lover, +A huge translation of hypocrisy, +Vilely compiled, profound simplicity. + +MARIA +This, and these pearls, to me sent Longaville. +[She shows a paper and pearls.] +The letter is too long by half a mile. + +PRINCESS +I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart +The chain were longer and the letter short? + +MARIA +Ay, or I would these hands might never part. + +PRINCESS +We are wise girls to mock our lovers so. + +ROSALINE +They are worse fools to purchase mocking so. +That same Berowne I'll torture ere I go. +O, that I knew he were but in by th' week, +How I would make him fawn, and beg, and seek, +And wait the season, and observe the times, +And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes, +And shape his service wholly to my hests, +And make him proud to make me proud that jests! +So pair-taunt-like would I o'ersway his state, +That he should be my fool, and I his fate. + +PRINCESS +None are so surely caught, when they are catched, +As wit turned fool. Folly in wisdom hatched +Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school, +And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. + +ROSALINE +The blood of youth burns not with such excess +As gravity's revolt to wantonness. + +MARIA +Folly in fools bears not so strong a note +As fool'ry in the wise, when wit doth dote, +Since all the power thereof it doth apply +To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity. + +[Enter Boyet.] + + +PRINCESS +Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face. + +BOYET +O, I am stabbed with laughter. Where's her Grace? + +PRINCESS +Thy news, Boyet? + +BOYET Prepare, madam, prepare. +Arm, wenches, arm. Encounters mounted are +Against your peace. Love doth approach, disguised, +Armed in arguments. You'll be surprised. +Muster your wits, stand in your own defense, +Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. + +PRINCESS +Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they +That charge their breath against us? Say, scout, say. + +BOYET +Under the cool shade of a sycamore, +I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour. +When, lo, to interrupt my purposed rest, +Toward that shade I might behold addressed +The King and his companions. Warily +I stole into a neighbor thicket by, +And overheard what you shall overhear: +That, by and by, disguised, they will be here. +Their herald is a pretty knavish page +That well by heart hath conned his embassage. +Action and accent did they teach him there: +"Thus must thou speak," and "thus thy body bear." +And ever and anon they made a doubt +Presence majestical would put him out; +"For," quoth the King, "an angel shalt thou see; +Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously." +The boy replied "An angel is not evil. +I should have feared her had she been a devil." +With that, all laughed and clapped him on the +shoulder, +Making the bold wag by their praises bolder. +One rubbed his elbow thus, and fleered, and swore +A better speech was never spoke before. +Another with his finger and his thumb, +Cried "Via! We will do 't, come what will come." +The third he capered and cried "All goes well!" +The fourth turned on the toe, and down he fell. +With that, they all did tumble on the ground +With such a zealous laughter so profound +That in this spleen ridiculous appears, +To check their folly, passion's solemn tears. + +PRINCESS +But what, but what? Come they to visit us? + +BOYET +They do, they do; and are appareled thus, +Like Muscovites, or Russians, as I guess. +Their purpose is to parley, to court, and dance, +And every one his love-feat will advance +Unto his several mistress--which they'll know +By favors several which they did bestow. + +PRINCESS +And will they so? The gallants shall be tasked, +For, ladies, we will every one be masked, +And not a man of them shall have the grace, +Despite of suit, to see a lady's face. +Hold, Rosaline, this favor thou shalt wear, +And then the King will court thee for his dear. +Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine. +So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline. +[Princess and Rosaline exchange favors.] +And change you favors too. So shall your loves +Woo contrary, deceived by these removes. +[Katherine and Maria exchange favors.] + +ROSALINE +Come on, then, wear the favors most in sight. + +KATHERINE, [to Princess] +But in this changing, what is your intent? + +PRINCESS +The effect of my intent is to cross theirs. +They do it but in mockery merriment, +And mock for mock is only my intent. +Their several counsels they unbosom shall +To loves mistook, and so be mocked withal +Upon the next occasion that we meet, +With visages displayed, to talk and greet. + +ROSALINE +But shall we dance, if they desire us to 't? + +PRINCESS +No, to the death we will not move a foot, +Nor to their penned speech render we no grace, +But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face. + +BOYET +Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart, +And quite divorce his memory from his part. + +PRINCESS +Therefore I do it, and I make no doubt +The rest will ne'er come in if he be out. +There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown, +To make theirs ours and ours none but our own. +So shall we stay, mocking intended game, +And they, well mocked, depart away with shame. +[Sound trumpet, within.] + +BOYET +The trumpet sounds. Be masked; the maskers come. +[The Ladies mask.] + +[Enter Blackamoors with music, the Boy with a speech, +the King, Berowne, and the rest of the Lords disguised.] + + +BOY +All hail, the richest beauties on the Earth! + +BOYET +Beauties no richer than rich taffeta. + +BOY +A holy parcel of the fairest dames +[The Ladies turn their backs to him.] +That ever turned their--backs--to mortal views. + +BEROWNE Their eyes, villain, their eyes! + +BOY +That ever turned their eyes to mortal views. +Out-- + +BOYET True; out indeed. + +BOY +Out of your favors, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe +Not to behold-- + +BEROWNE Once to behold, rogue! + +BOY +Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes-- +With your sun-beamed eyes-- + +BOYET +They will not answer to that epithet. +You were best call it "daughter-beamed eyes." + +BOY +They do not mark me, and that brings me out. + +BEROWNE +Is this your perfectness? Begone, you rogue! +[Boy exits.] + +ROSALINE, [speaking as the Princess] +What would these strangers? Know their minds, +Boyet. +If they do speak our language, 'tis our will +That some plain man recount their purposes. +Know what they would. + +BOYET What would you with the +Princess? + +BEROWNE +Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. + +ROSALINE What would they, say they? + +BOYET +Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. + +ROSALINE +Why, that they have, and bid them so be gone. + +BOYET +She says you have it, and you may be gone. + +KING +Say to her we have measured many miles +To tread a measure with her on this grass. + +BOYET +They say that they have measured many a mile +To tread a measure with you on this grass. + +ROSALINE +It is not so. Ask them how many inches +Is in one mile. If they have measured many, +The measure then of one is eas'ly told. + +BOYET +If to come hither you have measured miles, +And many miles, the Princess bids you tell +How many inches doth fill up one mile. + +BEROWNE +Tell her we measure them by weary steps. + +BOYET +She hears herself. + +ROSALINE How many weary steps +Of many weary miles you have o'ergone +Are numbered in the travel of one mile? + +BEROWNE +We number nothing that we spend for you. +Our duty is so rich, so infinite, +That we may do it still without account. +Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face +That we, like savages, may worship it. + +ROSALINE +My face is but a moon, and clouded too. + +KING +Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do! +Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to +shine, +Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne. + +ROSALINE +O vain petitioner, beg a greater matter! +Thou now requests but moonshine in the water. + +KING +Then in our measure do but vouchsafe one change. +Thou bidd'st me beg; this begging is not strange. + +ROSALINE +Play music, then. Nay, you must do it soon. +[Music begins.] +Not yet? No dance! Thus change I like the moon. + +KING +Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged? + +ROSALINE +You took the moon at full, but now she's changed. + +KING +Yet still she is the moon, and I the man. +The music plays. Vouchsafe some motion to it. + +ROSALINE +Our ears vouchsafe it. + +KING But your legs should do it. + +ROSALINE +Since you are strangers and come here by chance, +We'll not be nice. Take hands. We will not dance. +[She offers her hand.] + +KING +Why take we hands then? + +ROSALINE Only to part friends.-- +Curtsy, sweethearts--and so the measure ends. + +KING +More measure of this measure! Be not nice. + +ROSALINE +We can afford no more at such a price. + +KING +Prize you yourselves. What buys your company? + +ROSALINE +Your absence only. + +KING That can never be. + +ROSALINE +Then cannot we be bought. And so adieu-- +Twice to your visor, and half once to you. + +KING +If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat. + +ROSALINE +In private, then. + +KING I am best pleased with that. +[They move aside.] + +BEROWNE, [to the Princess] +White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee. + +PRINCESS, [speaking as Rosaline] +Honey, and milk, and sugar--there is three. + +BEROWNE +Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice, +Metheglin, wort, and malmsey. Well run, dice! +There's half a dozen sweets. + +PRINCESS Seventh sweet, adieu. +Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you. + +BEROWNE +One word in secret. + +PRINCESS Let it not be sweet. + +BEROWNE +Thou grievest my gall. + +PRINCESS Gall! Bitter. + +BEROWNE Therefore meet. +[They move aside.] + +DUMAINE, [to Maria] +Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word? + +MARIA, [speaking as Katherine] +Name it. + +DUMAINE Fair lady-- + +MARIA Say you so? Fair lord! +Take that for your "fair lady." + +DUMAINE Please it you +As much in private, and I'll bid adieu. +[They move aside.] + +KATHERINE, [speaking as Maria] +What, was your vizard made without a tongue? + +LONGAVILLE +I know the reason, lady, why you ask. + +KATHERINE +O, for your reason! Quickly, sir, I long. + +LONGAVILLE +You have a double tongue within your mask, +And would afford my speechless vizard half. + +KATHERINE +Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not veal a calf? + +LONGAVILLE +A calf, fair lady? + +KATHERINE No, a fair Lord Calf. + +LONGAVILLE +Let's part the word. + +KATHERINE No, I'll not be your half. +Take all and wean it. It may prove an ox. + +LONGAVILLE +Look how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks. +Will you give horns, chaste lady? Do not so. + +KATHERINE +Then die a calf before your horns do grow. + +LONGAVILLE +One word in private with you ere I die. + +KATHERINE +Bleat softly, then. The butcher hears you cry. +[They move aside.] + +BOYET +The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen + As is the razor's edge invisible, +Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen; + Above the sense of sense, so sensible +Seemeth their conference. Their conceits have +wings +Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter +things. + +ROSALINE +Not one word more, my maids. Break off, break off! +[The Ladies move away from the Lords.] + +BEROWNE +By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff! + +KING +Farewell, mad wenches. You have simple wits. +[King, Lords, and Blackamoors exit.] +[The Ladies unmask.] + +PRINCESS +Twenty adieus, my frozen Muskovits.-- +Are these the breed of wits so wondered at? + +BOYET + Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puffed + out. + +ROSALINE +Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat. + +PRINCESS + O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout! +Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight? + Or ever but in vizards show their faces? +This pert Berowne was out of count'nance quite. + +ROSALINE + They were all in lamentable cases. +The King was weeping ripe for a good word. + +PRINCESS + Berowne did swear himself out of all suit. + +MARIA +Dumaine was at my service, and his sword. + "No point," quoth I. My servant straight was + mute. + +KATHERINE +Lord Longaville said I came o'er his heart. + And trow you what he called me? + +PRINCESS Qualm, perhaps. + +KATHERINE +Yes, in good faith. + +PRINCESS Go, sickness as thou art! + +ROSALINE + Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps. +But will you hear? The King is my love sworn. + +PRINCESS + And quick Berowne hath plighted faith to me. + +KATHERINE +And Longaville was for my service born. + +MARIA + Dumaine is mine as sure as bark on tree. + +BOYET +Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear. +Immediately they will again be here +In their own shapes, for it can never be +They will digest this harsh indignity. + +PRINCESS +Will they return? + +BOYET They will, they will, God knows, +And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows. +Therefore change favors, and when they repair, +Blow like sweet roses in this summer air. + +PRINCESS +How "blow"? How "blow"? Speak to be understood. + +BOYET +Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud. +Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shown, +Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. + +PRINCESS +Avaunt, perplexity!--What shall we do +If they return in their own shapes to woo? + +ROSALINE +Good madam, if by me you'll be advised, +Let's mock them still, as well known as disguised. +Let us complain to them what fools were here, +Disguised like Muscovites in shapeless gear, +And wonder what they were, and to what end +Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penned, +And their rough carriage so ridiculous, +Should be presented at our tent to us. + +BOYET +Ladies, withdraw. The gallants are at hand. + +PRINCESS +Whip to our tents, as roes runs o'er land. +[The Princess and the Ladies exit.] + +[Enter the King and the rest, as themselves.] + + +KING, [to Boyet] +Fair sir, God save you. Where's the Princess? + +BOYET +Gone to her tent. Please it your Majesty +Command me any service to her thither? + +KING +That she vouchsafe me audience for one word. + +BOYET +I will, and so will she, I know, my lord. [He exits.] + +BEROWNE +This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons peas, +And utters it again when God doth please. +He is wit's peddler, and retails his wares +At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs. +And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, +Have not the grace to grace it with such show. +This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve. +Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve. +He can carve too, and lisp. Why, this is he +That kissed his hand away in courtesy. +This is the ape of form, Monsieur the Nice, +That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice +In honorable terms. Nay, he can sing +A mean most meanly; and in ushering +Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet. +The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet. +This is the flower that smiles on everyone +To show his teeth as white as whale's bone; +And consciences that will not die in debt +Pay him the due of "honey-tongued Boyet." + +KING +A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart, +That put Armado's page out of his part! + +[Enter the Ladies, with Boyet.] + + +BEROWNE +See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou +Till this madman showed thee? And what art thou +now? + +KING, [to Princess] +All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day. + +PRINCESS + "Fair" in "all hail" is foul, as I conceive. + +KING +Construe my speeches better, if you may. + +PRINCESS + Then wish me better. I will give you leave. + +KING +We came to visit you, and purpose now + To lead you to our court. Vouchsafe it, then. + +PRINCESS +This field shall hold me, and so hold your vow. + Nor God nor I delights in perjured men. + +KING +Rebuke me not for that which you provoke. + The virtue of your eye must break my oath. + +PRINCESS +You nickname virtue; "vice" you should have spoke, + For virtue's office never breaks men's troth. +Now by my maiden honor, yet as pure + As the unsullied lily, I protest, +A world of torments though I should endure, + I would not yield to be your house's guest, +So much I hate a breaking cause to be +Of heavenly oaths vowed with integrity. + +KING +O, you have lived in desolation here, + Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame. + +PRINCESS +Not so, my lord. It is not so, I swear. + We have had pastimes here and pleasant game. +A mess of Russians left us but of late. + +KING + How, madam? Russians? + +PRINCESS Ay, in truth, my lord. +Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. + +ROSALINE + Madam, speak true.--It is not so, my lord. +My lady, to the manner of the days, +In courtesy gives undeserving praise. +We four indeed confronted were with four +In Russian habit. Here they stayed an hour +And talked apace; and in that hour, my lord, +They did not bless us with one happy word. +I dare not call them fools; but this I think: +When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. + +BEROWNE +This jest is dry to me. Gentle sweet, +Your wits makes wise things foolish. When we greet, +With eyes' best seeing, heaven's fiery eye, +By light we lose light. Your capacity +Is of that nature that to your huge store +Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor. + +ROSALINE +This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye-- + +BEROWNE +I am a fool, and full of poverty. + +ROSALINE +But that you take what doth to you belong, +It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue. + +BEROWNE +O, I am yours, and all that I possess! + +ROSALINE +All the fool mine? + +BEROWNE I cannot give you less. + +ROSALINE +Which of the vizards was it that you wore? + +BEROWNE +Where? When? What vizard? Why demand you this? + +ROSALINE +There; then; that vizard; that superfluous case +That hid the worse and showed the better face. + +KING, [aside to Dumaine] +We were descried. They'll mock us now downright. + +DUMAINE, [aside to King] +Let us confess and turn it to a jest. + +PRINCESS, [to King] +Amazed, my lord? Why looks your Highness sad? + +ROSALINE +Help, hold his brows! He'll swoon!--Why look you +pale? +Seasick, I think, coming from Muscovy. + +BEROWNE +Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury. + Can any face of brass hold longer out? +Here stand I, lady. Dart thy skill at me. + Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout. +Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance. + Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit, +And I will wish thee nevermore to dance, + Nor nevermore in Russian habit wait. +O, never will I trust to speeches penned, + Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue, +Nor never come in vizard to my friend, + Nor woo in rhyme like a blind harper's song. +Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, + Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, +Figures pedantical--these summer flies + Have blown me full of maggot ostentation. +I do forswear them, and I here protest + By this white glove--how white the hand, God + knows!-- +Henceforth my wooing mind shall be expressed + In russet yeas and honest kersey noes. +And to begin: Wench, so God help me, law, +My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw. + +ROSALINE +Sans "sans," I pray you. + +BEROWNE Yet I have a trick +Of the old rage. Bear with me, I am sick; +I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see: +Write "Lord have mercy on us" on those three. +They are infected; in their hearts it lies. +They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes. +These lords are visited. You are not free, +For the Lord's tokens on you do I see. + +PRINCESS +No, they are free that gave these tokens to us. + +BEROWNE +Our states are forfeit. Seek not to undo us. + +ROSALINE +It is not so, for how can this be true, +That you stand forfeit, being those that sue? + +BEROWNE +Peace, for I will not have to do with you. + +ROSALINE +Nor shall not, if I do as I intend. + +BEROWNE, [to King, Longaville, and Dumaine] +Speak for yourselves. My wit is at an end. + +KING, [to Princess] +Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression +Some fair excuse. + +PRINCESS The fairest is confession. +Were not you here but even now, disguised? + +KING +Madam, I was. + +PRINCESS And were you well advised? + +KING +I was, fair madam. + +PRINCESS When you then were here, +What did you whisper in your lady's ear? + +KING +That more than all the world I did respect her. + +PRINCESS +When she shall challenge this, you will reject her. + +KING +Upon mine honor, no. + +PRINCESS Peace, peace, forbear! +Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear. + +KING +Despise me when I break this oath of mine. + +PRINCESS +I will, and therefore keep it.--Rosaline, +What did the Russian whisper in your ear? + +ROSALINE +Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear +As precious eyesight, and did value me +Above this world, adding thereto moreover +That he would wed me or else die my lover. + +PRINCESS +God give thee joy of him! The noble lord +Most honorably doth uphold his word. + +KING +What mean you, madam? By my life, my troth, +I never swore this lady such an oath. + +ROSALINE +By heaven, you did! And to confirm it plain, +You gave me this. [She shows a token.] But take it, +sir, again. + +KING +My faith and this the Princess I did give. +I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. + +PRINCESS +Pardon me, sir. This jewel did she wear. +[She points to Rosaline.] +And Lord Berowne, I thank him, is my dear. +[To Berowne.] What, will you have me, or your pearl +again? [She shows the token.] + +BEROWNE +Neither of either. I remit both twain. +I see the trick on 't. Here was a consent, +Knowing aforehand of our merriment, +To dash it like a Christmas comedy. +Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight +zany, +Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some +Dick, +That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick +To make my lady laugh when she's disposed, +Told our intents before; which once disclosed, +The ladies did change favors; and then we, +Following the signs, wooed but the sign of she. +Now, to our perjury to add more terror, +We are again forsworn in will and error. +Much upon this 'tis. [To Boyet.] And might not you +Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue? +Do not you know my lady's foot by th' squier? + And laugh upon the apple of her eye? +And stand between her back, sir, and the fire, + Holding a trencher, jesting merrily? +You put our page out. Go, you are allowed. +Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud. +You leer upon me, do you? There's an eye +Wounds like a leaden sword. + +BOYET Full merrily +Hath this brave manage, this career been run. + +BEROWNE +Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace, I have done. + +[Enter Clown Costard.] + +Welcome, pure wit. Thou part'st a fair fray. + +COSTARD O Lord, sir, they would know +Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no. + +BEROWNE +What, are there but three? + +COSTARD No, sir; but it is vara fine, +For every one pursents three. + +BEROWNE And three times thrice +is nine. + +COSTARD +Not so, sir, under correction, sir, I hope it is not so. +You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we +know what we know. +I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir-- + +BEROWNE Is not nine? + +COSTARD Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it +doth amount. + +BEROWNE +By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. + +COSTARD O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your +living by reckoning, sir. + +BEROWNE How much is it? + +COSTARD O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, +sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount. For +mine own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one +man in one poor man--Pompion the Great, sir. + +BEROWNE Art thou one of the Worthies? + +COSTARD It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey +the Great. For mine own part, I know not the +degree of the Worthy, but I am to stand for him. + +BEROWNE Go bid them prepare. + +COSTARD +We will turn it finely off, sir. We will take some +care. [He exits.] + +KING +Berowne, they will shame us. Let them not +approach. + +BEROWNE +We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis some policy +To have one show worse than the King's and his +company. + +KING I say they shall not come. + +PRINCESS +Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now. +That sport best pleases that doth least know how, +Where zeal strives to content, and the contents +Dies in the zeal of that which it presents. +Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, +When great things laboring perish in their birth. + +BEROWNE +A right description of our sport, my lord. + +[Enter Braggart Armado.] + + +ARMADO, [to King] Anointed, I implore so much expense +of thy royal sweet breath as will utter a brace +of words. [Armado and King step aside, and +Armado gives King a paper.] + +PRINCESS Doth this man serve God? + +BEROWNE Why ask you? + +PRINCESS +He speaks not like a man of God his making. + +ARMADO, [to King] That is all one, my fair sweet honey +monarch, for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding +fantastical, too, too vain, too, too vain. But +we will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra.--I +wish you the peace of mind, most royal +couplement! [He exits.] + +KING, [reading the paper] Here is like to be a good +presence of Worthies. He presents Hector of Troy, +the swain Pompey the Great, the parish curate +Alexander, Armado's page Hercules, the pedant +Judas Maccabaeus. +And if these four Worthies in their first show thrive, +These four will change habits and present the other +five. + +BEROWNE There is five in the first show. + +KING You are deceived. 'Tis not so. + +BEROWNE The pedant, the braggart, the hedge +priest, the fool, and the boy. +Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again +Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein. + +KING +The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. + +[Enter Costard as Pompey.] + + +COSTARD +I Pompey am-- + +BEROWNE You lie; you are not he. + +COSTARD +I Pompey am-- + +BOYET With leopard's head on knee. + +BEROWNE +Well said, old mocker. I must needs be friends with +thee. + +COSTARD +I Pompey am, Pompey, surnamed the Big-- + +DUMAINE "The Great." + +COSTARD +It is "Great," sir.--Pompey, surnamed the +Great, +That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my +foe to sweat. +And traveling along this coast, I here am come by +chance, +And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of +France. +[He places his weapons at the feet of the Princess.] +If your Ladyship would say "Thanks, Pompey," I +had done. + +PRINCESS Great thanks, great Pompey. + +COSTARD 'Tis not so much worth, but I hope I was +perfect. I made a little fault in "Great." + +BEROWNE My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the +best Worthy. [Costard stands aside.] + +[Enter Curate Nathaniel for Alexander.] + + +NATHANIEL +When in the world I lived, I was the world's +commander. +By east, west, north, and south, I spread my +conquering might. +My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander-- + +BOYET +Your nose says no, you are not, for it stands too +right. + +BEROWNE, [to Boyet] +Your nose smells "no" in this, most tender-smelling +knight. + +PRINCESS +The conqueror is dismayed.--Proceed, good +Alexander. + +NATHANIEL +When in the world I lived, I was the world's +commander-- + +BOYET +Most true; 'tis right. You were so, Alisander. + +BEROWNE, [to Costard] Pompey the Great-- + +COSTARD Your servant, and Costard. + +BEROWNE Take away the conqueror. Take away +Alisander. + +COSTARD, [to Nathaniel] O sir, you have overthrown +Alisander the Conqueror. You will be scraped out of +the painted cloth for this. Your lion, that holds his +polax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax. +He will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror, and +afeard to speak? Run away for shame, Alisander. +[Nathaniel exits.] +There, an 't shall please you, a foolish mild man, an +honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a +marvelous good neighbor, faith, and a very good +bowler. But, for Alisander--alas, you see how 'tis-- +a little o'erparted. But there are Worthies a-coming +will speak their mind in some other sort. + +[Enter Pedant Holofernes for Judas, and the Boy +for Hercules.] + + +PRINCESS, [to Costard] Stand aside, good Pompey. + +HOLOFERNES +Great Hercules is presented by this imp, + Whose club killed Cerberus, that three-headed canus, +And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp, + Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus. +Quoniam he seemeth in minority, +Ergo I come with this apology. +[To Boy.] Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. +[Boy steps aside.] + +HOLOFERNES +Judas I am-- + +DUMAINE A Judas! + +HOLOFERNES Not Iscariot, sir. +Judas I am, yclept Maccabaeus. + +DUMAINE Judas Maccabaeus clipped is plain Judas. + +BEROWNE A kissing traitor.--How art thou proved +Judas? + +HOLOFERNES +Judas I am-- + +DUMAINE The more shame for you, Judas. + +HOLOFERNES What mean you, sir? + +BOYET To make Judas hang himself. + +HOLOFERNES Begin, sir, you are my elder. + +BEROWNE Well followed. Judas was hanged on an +elder. + +HOLOFERNES I will not be put out of countenance. + +BEROWNE Because thou hast no face. + +HOLOFERNES What is this? [He points to his own face.] + +BOYET A cittern-head. + +DUMAINE The head of a bodkin. + +BEROWNE A death's face in a ring. + +LONGAVILLE The face of an old Roman coin, scarce +seen. + +BOYET The pommel of Caesar's falchion. + +DUMAINE The carved-bone face on a flask. + +BEROWNE Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch. + +DUMAINE Ay, and in a brooch of lead. + +BEROWNE Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer. +And now forward, for we have put thee in +countenance. + +HOLOFERNES You have put me out of countenance. + +BEROWNE False. We have given thee faces. + +HOLOFERNES But you have outfaced them all. + +BEROWNE +An thou wert a lion, we would do so. + +BOYET +Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.-- +And so adieu, sweet Jude. Nay, why dost thou stay? + +DUMAINE For the latter end of his name. + +BEROWNE +For the "ass" to the "Jude"? Give it him.--Jud-as, +away! + +HOLOFERNES +This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. + +BOYET +A light for Monsieur Judas! It grows dark; he may +stumble. [Holofernes exits.] + +PRINCESS +Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited! + +[Enter Braggart Armado as Hector.] + + +BEROWNE Hide thy head, Achilles. Here comes Hector +in arms. + +DUMAINE Though my mocks come home by me, I will +now be merry. + +KING Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this. + +BOYET But is this Hector? + +KING I think Hector was not so clean-timbered. + +LONGAVILLE His leg is too big for Hector's. + +DUMAINE More calf, certain. + +BOYET No, he is best endued in the small. + +BEROWNE This cannot be Hector. + +DUMAINE He's a god or a painter, for he makes faces. + +ARMADO +The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, + Gave Hector a gift-- + +DUMAINE A gilt nutmeg. + +BEROWNE A lemon. + +LONGAVILLE Stuck with cloves. + +DUMAINE No, cloven. + +ARMADO Peace! +The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, + Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion, +A man so breathed, that certain he would fight, yea, + From morn till night, out of his pavilion. +I am that flower-- + +DUMAINE That mint. + +LONGAVILLE That columbine. + +ARMADO Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. + +LONGAVILLE I must rather give it the rein, for it runs +against Hector. + +DUMAINE Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. + +ARMADO The sweet warman is dead and rotten. Sweet +chucks, beat not the bones of the buried. When he +breathed, he was a man. But I will forward with my +device. [To Princess.] Sweet royalty, bestow on me +the sense of hearing. +[Berowne steps forth.] + +PRINCESS +Speak, brave Hector. We are much delighted. + +ARMADO I do adore thy sweet Grace's slipper. + +BOYET Loves her by the foot. + +DUMAINE He may not by the yard. + +ARMADO +This Hector far surmounted Hannibal. +The party is gone-- + +COSTARD Fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two +months on her way. + +ARMADO What meanest thou? + +COSTARD Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the +poor wench is cast away. She's quick; the child +brags in her belly already. 'Tis yours. + +ARMADO Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? +Thou shalt die! + +COSTARD Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta, +that is quick by him, and hanged for Pompey, +that is dead by him. + +DUMAINE Most rare Pompey! + +BOYET Renowned Pompey! + +BEROWNE Greater than "Great"! Great, great, great +Pompey. Pompey the Huge! + +DUMAINE Hector trembles. + +BEROWNE Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! +Stir them on, stir them on. + +DUMAINE Hector will challenge him. + +BEROWNE Ay, if he have no more man's blood in his +belly than will sup a flea. + +ARMADO, [to Costard] By the North Pole, I do challenge +thee! + +COSTARD I will not fight with a pole like a northern +man! I'll slash. I'll do it by the sword.--I bepray +you, let me borrow my arms again. + +DUMAINE Room for the incensed Worthies! + +COSTARD I'll do it in my shirt. [He removes his doublet.] + +DUMAINE Most resolute Pompey! + +BOY, [to Armado] Master, let me take you a buttonhole +lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the +combat? What mean you? You will lose your +reputation. + +ARMADO Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me. I will +not combat in my shirt. + +DUMAINE You may not deny it. Pompey hath made the +challenge. + +ARMADO Sweet bloods, I both may and will. + +BEROWNE What reason have you for 't? + +ARMADO The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. I go +woolward for penance. + +BOYET True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want +of linen; since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none +but a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that he wears +next his heart for a favor. + +[Enter a Messenger, Monsieur Marcade.] + + +MARCADE, [to Princess] God save you, madam. + +PRINCESS Welcome, Marcade, +But that thou interruptest our merriment. + +MARCADE +I am sorry, madam, for the news I bring +Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father-- + +PRINCESS +Dead, for my life. + +MARCADE Even so. My tale is told. + +BEROWNE +Worthies, away! The scene begins to cloud. + +ARMADO For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I +have seen the day of wrong through the little hole +of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. +[Worthies exit.] + +KING, [to Princess] How fares your Majesty? + +PRINCESS +Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight. + +KING +Madam, not so. I do beseech you stay. + +PRINCESS, [to Boyet] +Prepare, I say.--I thank you, gracious lords, +For all your fair endeavors, and entreat, +Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe +In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide +The liberal opposition of our spirits, +If overboldly we have borne ourselves +In the converse of breath; your gentleness +Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord. +A heavy heart bears not a humble tongue. +Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks +For my great suit so easily obtained. + +KING +The extreme parts of time extremely forms +All causes to the purpose of his speed, +And often at his very loose decides +That which long process could not arbitrate. +And though the mourning brow of progeny +Forbid the smiling courtesy of love +The holy suit which fain it would convince, +Yet since love's argument was first on foot, +Let not the cloud of sorrow jostle it +From what it purposed, since to wail friends lost +Is not by much so wholesome-profitable +As to rejoice at friends but newly found. + +PRINCESS +I understand you not. My griefs are double. + +BEROWNE +Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief, +And by these badges understand the King: +For your fair sakes have we neglected time, +Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies, +Hath much deformed us, fashioning our humors +Even to the opposed end of our intents. +And what in us hath seemed ridiculous-- +As love is full of unbefitting strains, +All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, +Formed by the eye and therefore, like the eye, +Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms, +Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll +To every varied object in his glance; +Which parti-coated presence of loose love +Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes, +Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities, +Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults, +Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies, +Our love being yours, the error that love makes +Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false +By being once false forever to be true +To those that make us both--fair ladies, you. +And even that falsehood, in itself a sin, +Thus purifies itself and turns to grace. + +PRINCESS +We have received your letters full of love; +Your favors, the ambassadors of love; +And in our maiden council rated them +At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy, +As bombast and as lining to the time. +But more devout than this in our respects +Have we not been, and therefore met your loves +In their own fashion, like a merriment. + +DUMAINE +Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest. + +LONGAVILLE +So did our looks. + +ROSALINE We did not quote them so. + +KING +Now, at the latest minute of the hour, +Grant us your loves. + +PRINCESS A time, methinks, too short +To make a world-without-end bargain in. +No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjured much, +Full of dear guiltiness, and therefore this: +If for my love--as there is no such cause-- +You will do aught, this shall you do for me: +Your oath I will not trust, but go with speed +To some forlorn and naked hermitage, +Remote from all the pleasures of the world. +There stay until the twelve celestial signs +Have brought about the annual reckoning. +If this austere insociable life +Change not your offer made in heat of blood; +If frosts and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds +Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love, +But that it bear this trial, and last love; +Then, at the expiration of the year, +Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts, +[She takes his hand.] +And by this virgin palm now kissing thine, +I will be thine. And till that instant shut +My woeful self up in a mourning house, +Raining the tears of lamentation +For the remembrance of my father's death. +If this thou do deny, let our hands part, +Neither entitled in the other's heart. + +KING +If this, or more than this, I would deny, + To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, +The sudden hand of death close up mine eye! + Hence hermit, then. My heart is in thy breast. +[They step aside.] + +DUMAINE, [to Katherine] +But what to me, my love? But what to me? +A wife? + +KATHERINE A beard, fair health, and honesty. +With threefold love I wish you all these three. + +DUMAINE +O, shall I say "I thank you, gentle wife"? + +KATHERINE +Not so, my lord. A twelvemonth and a day +I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say. +Come when the King doth to my lady come; +Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some. + +DUMAINE +I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. + +KATHERINE +Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. +[They step aside.] + +LONGAVILLE +What says Maria? + +MARIA At the twelvemonth's end +I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. + +LONGAVILLE +I'll stay with patience, but the time is long. + +MARIA +The liker you; few taller are so young. +[They step aside.] + +BEROWNE, [to Rosaline] +Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me. +Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, +What humble suit attends thy answer there. +Impose some service on me for thy love. + +ROSALINE +Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Berowne, +Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue +Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks, +Full of comparisons and wounding flouts, +Which you on all estates will execute +That lie within the mercy of your wit. +To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, +And therewithal to win me, if you please, +Without the which I am not to be won, +You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day +Visit the speechless sick, and still converse +With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, +With all the fierce endeavor of your wit, +To enforce the pained impotent to smile. + +BEROWNE +To move wild laughter in the throat of death? +It cannot be, it is impossible. +Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. + +ROSALINE +Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, +Whose influence is begot of that loose grace +Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools. +A jest's prosperity lies in the ear +Of him that hears it, never in the tongue +Of him that makes it. Then if sickly ears, +Deafed with the clamors of their own dear groans +Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, +And I will have you and that fault withal. +But if they will not, throw away that spirit, +And I shall find you empty of that fault, +Right joyful of your reformation. + +BEROWNE +A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall, +I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. + +PRINCESS, [to King] +Ay, sweet my lord, and so I take my leave. + +KING +No, madam, we will bring you on your way. + +BEROWNE +Our wooing doth not end like an old play. +Jack hath not Jill. These ladies' courtesy +Might well have made our sport a comedy. + +KING +Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, +And then 'twill end. + +BEROWNE That's too long for a play. + +[Enter Braggart Armado.] + + +ARMADO Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me-- + +PRINCESS +Was not that Hector? + +DUMAINE The worthy knight of Troy. + +ARMADO I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I +am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the +plow for her sweet love three year. But, most +esteemed Greatness, will you hear the dialogue that +the two learned men have compiled in praise of the +owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the +end of our show. + +KING Call them forth quickly. We will do so. + +ARMADO Holla! Approach. + +[Enter all.] + +This side is Hiems, Winter; this Ver, the Spring; the +one maintained by the owl, th' other by the cuckoo. +Ver, begin. +The Song. + +SPRING + When daisies pied and violets blue, + And lady-smocks all silver-white, + And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue + Do paint the meadows with delight, + The cuckoo then on every tree + Mocks married men; for thus sings he: + "Cuckoo! + Cuckoo, cuckoo!" O word of fear, + Unpleasing to a married ear. + + When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, + And merry larks are plowmen's clocks; + When turtles tread, and rooks and daws, + And maidens bleach their summer smocks; + The cuckoo then on every tree + Mocks married men, for thus sings he: + "Cuckoo! + Cuckoo, cuckoo!" O word of fear, + Unpleasing to a married ear. + + +WINTER + When icicles hang by the wall, + And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, + And Tom bears logs into the hall, + And milk comes frozen home in pail; + When blood is nipped, and ways be foul, + Then nightly sings the staring owl + "Tu-whit to-who." A merry note, + While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. + + When all aloud the wind doth blow, + And coughing drowns the parson's saw, + And birds sit brooding in the snow, + And Marian's nose looks red and raw; + When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, + Then nightly sings the staring owl + "Tu-whit to-who." A merry note, + While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. + + +ARMADO The words of Mercury are harsh after the +songs of Apollo. You that way; we this way. +[They all exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/lucrece_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/lucrece_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4dfd952 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/lucrece_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2191 @@ +Lucrece +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/lucrece/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.0.1 + + +TO THE RIGHT +HONORABLE, HENRY +Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, +and Baron of Titchfield. + + +The love I dedicate to your Lordship is without end; whereof this +pamphlet without beginning is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant +I have of your honorable disposition, not the worth of my untutored +lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is +yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted +yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, +as it is, it is bound to your Lordship, to whom I wish long life +still lengthened with all happiness. + +Your Lordship's in all duty, +William Shakespeare + + +THE ARGUMENT + +Lucius Tarquinius, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus, +after he had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be cruelly +murdered and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs, not +requiring or staying for the people's suffrages, had possessed himself +of the kingdom, went accompanied with his sons and other noblemen +of Rome to besiege Ardea; during which siege, the principal +men of the army meeting one evening at the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, +the King's son, in their discourses after supper every one +commended the virtues of his own wife; among whom Collatinus +extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife Lucretia. In that +pleasant humor they all posted to Rome, and intending by their secret +and sudden arrival to make trial of that which every one had +before avouched, only Collatinus finds his wife, though it were late +in the night, spinning amongst her maids; the other ladies were all +found dancing and reveling or in several disports; whereupon the +noblemen yielded Collatinus the victory and his wife the fame. At +that time Sextus Tarquinius, being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, +yet smothering his passions for the present, departed with the rest +back to the camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew +himself and was, according to his estate, royally entertained and +lodged by Lucrece at Collatium. The same night he treacherously +stealeth into her chamber, violently ravished her, and early in the +morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight, hastily +dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father, another to the +camp for Collatine. They came--the one accompanied with Junius +Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius--and, finding Lucrece attired +in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her sorrow. She, +first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the actor and +whole manner of his dealing, and withal suddenly stabbed herself. +Which done, with one consent they all vowed to root out the whole +hated family of the Tarquins; and, bearing the dead body to Rome, +Brutus acquainted the people with the doer and manner of the vile +deed, with a bitter invective against the tyranny of the King, wherewith +the people were so moved that with one consent and a general +acclamation the Tarquins were all exiled and the state government +changed from kings to consuls. + + + +Lucrece + + +From the besieged Ardea all in post, +Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, +Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host +And to Collatium bears the lightless fire +Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire + And girdle with embracing flames the waist + Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste. + +Haply that name of "chaste" unhapp'ly set +This bateless edge on his keen appetite +When Collatine unwisely did not let +To praise the clear unmatched red and white +Which triumphed in that sky of his delight, + Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties, + With pure aspects did him peculiar duties. + +For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent, +Unlocked the treasure of his happy state, +What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent +In the possession of his beauteous mate, +Reck'ning his fortune at such high proud rate + That kings might be espoused to more fame, + But king nor peer to such a peerless dame. + +O, happiness enjoyed but of a few, +And, if possessed, as soon decayed and done +As is the morning's silver melting dew +Against the golden splendor of the sun! +An expired date, canceled ere well begun. + Honor and beauty in the owner's arms + Are weakly fortressed from a world of harms. + +Beauty itself doth of itself persuade +The eyes of men without an orator; +What needeth then apology be made +To set forth that which is so singular? +Or why is Collatine the publisher + Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown + From thievish ears because it is his own? + +Perchance his boast of Lucrece' sov'reignty +Suggested this proud issue of a king, +For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be. +Perchance that envy of so rich a thing, +Braving compare, disdainfully did sting + His high-pitched thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt + That golden hap which their superiors want. + +But some untimely thought did instigate +His all too timeless speed, if none of those. +His honor, his affairs, his friends, his state +Neglected all, with swift intent he goes +To quench the coal which in his liver glows. + O, rash false heat, wrapped in repentant cold, + Thy hasty spring still blasts and ne'er grows old! + +When at Collatium this false lord arrived, +Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame, +Within whose face Beauty and Virtue strived +Which of them both should underprop her fame. +When Virtue bragged, Beauty would blush for shame; + When Beauty boasted blushes, in despite + Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white. + +But Beauty, in that white entituled +From Venus' doves, doth challenge that fair field. +Then Virtue claims from Beauty Beauty's red, +Which Virtue gave the golden age to gild +Their silver cheeks, and called it then their shield, + Teaching them thus to use it in the fight: + When shame assailed, the red should fence the white. + +This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen, +Argued by Beauty's red and Virtue's white. +Of either's color was the other queen, +Proving from world's minority their right. +Yet their ambition makes them still to fight, + The sovereignty of either being so great + That oft they interchange each other's seat. + +This silent war of lilies and of roses, +Which Tarquin viewed in her fair face's field, +In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses, +Where, lest between them both it should be killed, +The coward captive vanquished doth yield + To those two armies that would let him go + Rather than triumph in so false a foe. + +Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue, +The niggard prodigal that praised her so, +In that high task hath done her beauty wrong, +Which far exceeds his barren skill to show. +Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe + Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise, + In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes. + +This earthly saint, adored by this devil, +Little suspecteth the false worshiper, +For unstained thoughts do seldom dream on evil; +Birds never limed no secret bushes fear. +So, guiltless, she securely gives good cheer + And reverend welcome to her princely guest, + Whose inward ill no outward harm expressed. + +For that he colored with his high estate, +Hiding base sin in pleats of majesty, +That nothing in him seemed inordinate, +Save sometimes too much wonder of his eye, +Which, having all, all could not satisfy, + But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store + That, cloyed with much, he pineth still for more. + +But she, that never coped with stranger eyes, +Could pick no meaning from their parling looks +Nor read the subtle shining secrecies +Writ in the glassy margents of such books. +She touched no unknown baits nor feared no hooks, + Nor could she moralize his wanton sight + More than his eyes were opened to the light. + +He stories to her ears her husband's fame, +Won in the fields of fruitful Italy, +And decks with praises Collatine's high name, +Made glorious by his manly chivalry +With bruised arms and wreaths of victory. + Her joy with heaved-up hand she doth express + And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success. + +Far from the purpose of his coming thither +He makes excuses for his being there. +No cloudy show of stormy blust'ring weather +Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear, +Till sable Night, mother of dread and fear, + Upon the world dim darkness doth display + And in her vaulty prison stows the day. + +For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, +Intending weariness with heavy sprite, +For after supper long he questioned +With modest Lucrece and wore out the night. +Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight, + And everyone to rest himself betakes, + Save thieves and cares and troubled minds that wakes; + +As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving +The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining, +Yet ever to obtain his will resolving, +Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining. +Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining, + And when great treasure is the meed proposed, + Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed. + +Those that much covet are with gain so fond +That what they have not, that which they possess +They scatter and unloose it from their bond, +And so, by hoping more, they have but less, +Or, gaining more, the profit of excess + Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain + That they prove bankrout in this poor-rich gain. + +The aim of all is but to nurse the life +With honor, wealth, and ease in waning age; +And in this aim there is such thwarting strife +That one for all or all for one we gage: +As life for honor in fell battle's rage, + Honor for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost + The death of all, and all together lost. + +So that, in vent'ring ill, we leave to be +The things we are for that which we expect; +And this ambitious foul infirmity, +In having much, torments us with defect +Of that we have. So then we do neglect + The thing we have and, all for want of wit, + Make something nothing by augmenting it. + +Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, +Pawning his honor to obtain his lust, +And for himself himself he must forsake. +Then where is truth if there be no self-trust? +When shall he think to find a stranger just + When he himself himself confounds, betrays + To sland'rous tongues and wretched hateful days? + +Now stole upon the time the dead of night, +When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes. +No comfortable star did lend his light; +No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries +Now serves the season that they may surprise + The silly lambs. Pure thoughts are dead and still, + While Lust and Murder wakes to stain and kill. + +And now this lustful lord leapt from his bed, +Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; +Is madly tossed between desire and dread; +Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm, +But honest fear, bewitched with lust's foul charm, + Doth too too oft betake him to retire, + Beaten away by brainsick rude desire. + +His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth, +That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly, +Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth, +Which must be lodestar to his lustful eye, +And to the flame thus speaks advisedly: + "As from this cold flint I enforced this fire, + So Lucrece must I force to my desire." + +Here pale with fear he doth premeditate +The dangers of his loathsome enterprise, +And in his inward mind he doth debate +What following sorrow may on this arise. +Then, looking scornfully, he doth despise + His naked armor of still-slaughtered lust + And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust: + +"Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not +To darken her whose light excelleth thine. +And die, unhallowed thoughts, before you blot +With your uncleanness that which is divine. +Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine. + Let fair humanity abhor the deed + That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed. + +"O, shame to knighthood and to shining arms! +O, foul dishonor to my household's grave! +O, impious act including all foul harms! +A martial man to be soft fancy's slave! +True valor still a true respect should have. + Then my digression is so vile, so base, + That it will live engraven in my face. + +"Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive +And be an eyesore in my golden coat; +Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive +To cipher me how fondly I did dote, +That my posterity, shamed with the note, + Shall curse my bones and hold it for no sin + To wish that I their father had not been. + +"What win I if I gain the thing I seek? +A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. +Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week +Or sells eternity to get a toy? +For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? + Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, + Would with the scepter straight be strucken down? + +"If Collatinus dream of my intent, +Will he not wake and, in a desp'rate rage, +Post hither this vile purpose to prevent-- +This siege, that hath engirt his marriage, +This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage, + This dying virtue, this surviving shame, + Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame? + +"O, what excuse can my invention make +When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? +Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake, +Mine eyes forgo their light, my false heart bleed? +The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed, + And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly + But cowardlike with trembling terror die. + +"Had Collatinus killed my son or sire +Or lain in ambush to betray my life, +Or were he not my dear friend, this desire +Might have excuse to work upon his wife, +As in revenge or quittal of such strife; + But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend, + The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end. + +"Shameful it is: ay, if the fact be known, +Hateful it is: there is no hate in loving. +I'll beg her love. But she is not her own. +The worst is but denial and reproving; +My will is strong, past reason's weak removing. + Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw + Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe." + +Thus, graceless, holds he disputation +'Tween frozen conscience and hot-burning will, +And with good thoughts makes dispensation, +Urging the worser sense for vantage still, +Which in a moment doth confound and kill + All pure effects, and doth so far proceed + That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed. + +Quoth he, "She took me kindly by the hand +And gazed for tidings in my eager eyes, +Fearing some hard news from the warlike band +Where her beloved Collatinus lies. +O, how her fear did make her color rise! + First red as roses that on lawn we lay, + Then white as lawn, the roses took away. + +"And how her hand, in my hand being locked, +Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear, +Which struck her sad, and then it faster rocked +Until her husband's welfare she did hear, +Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer + That, had Narcissus seen her as she stood, + Self-love had never drowned him in the flood. + +"Why hunt I then for color or excuses? +All orators are dumb when Beauty pleadeth. +Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses; +Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth. +Affection is my captain, and he leadeth; + And when his gaudy banner is displayed, + The coward fights and will not be dismayed. + +"Then, childish fear, avaunt! Debating, die! +Respect and Reason, wait on wrinkled Age. +My heart shall never countermand mine eye. +Sad pause and deep regard beseems the sage; +My part is youth, and beats these from the stage. + Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize; + Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies?" + +As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear +Is almost choked by unresisted lust. +Away he steals with open list'ning ear, +Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust, +Both which, as servitors to the unjust, + So cross him with their opposite persuasion + That now he vows a league and now invasion. + +Within his thought her heavenly image sits, +And in the selfsame seat sits Collatine. +That eye which looks on her confounds his wits; +That eye which him beholds, as more divine, +Unto a view so false will not incline, + But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart, + Which once corrupted takes the worser part; + +And therein heartens up his servile powers, +Who, flattered by their leader's jocund show, +Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours; +And as their captain, so their pride doth grow, +Paying more slavish tribute than they owe. + By reprobate desire thus madly led, + The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed. + +The locks between her chamber and his will, +Each one by him enforced, retires his ward; +But, as they open, they all rate his ill, +Which drives the creeping thief to some regard. +The threshold grates the door to have him heard; + Night-wand'ring weasels shriek to see him there; + They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear. + +As each unwilling portal yields him way, +Through little vents and crannies of the place +The wind wars with his torch to make him stay +And blows the smoke of it into his face, +Extinguishing his conduct in this case; + But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch, + Puffs forth another wind that fires the torch. + +And being lighted, by the light he spies +Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks. +He takes it from the rushes where it lies, +And gripping it, the needle his finger pricks, +As who should say, "This glove to wanton tricks + Is not inured. Return again in haste. + Thou seest our mistress' ornaments are chaste." + +But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him; +He in the worst sense consters their denial. +The doors, the wind, the glove that did delay him +He takes for accidental things of trial, +Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial, + Who with a ling'ring stay his course doth let + Till every minute pays the hour his debt. + +"So, so," quoth he, "these lets attend the time +Like little frosts that sometimes threat the spring, +To add a more rejoicing to the prime +And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing. +Pain pays the income of each precious thing: + Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves, and sands + The merchant fears ere rich at home he lands." + +Now is he come unto the chamber door +That shuts him from the heaven of his thought, +Which with a yielding latch, and with no more, +Hath barred him from the blessed thing he sought. +So from himself impiety hath wrought + That for his prey to pray he doth begin, + As if the heavens should countenance his sin. + +But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, +Having solicited th' eternal power +That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, +And they would stand auspicious to the hour, +Even there he starts. Quoth he, "I must deflower. + The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact; + How can they then assist me in the act? + +"Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide! +My will is backed with resolution. +Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried. +The blackest sin is cleared with absolution. +Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution. + The eye of heaven is out, and misty night + Covers the shame that follows sweet delight." + +This said, his guilty hand plucked up the latch, +And with his knee the door he opens wide. +The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch. +Thus treason works ere traitors be espied. +Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside, + But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such thing, + Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting. + +Into the chamber wickedly he stalks +And gazeth on her yet unstained bed. +The curtains being close, about he walks, +Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head. +By their high treason is his heart misled, + Which gives the watchword to his hand full soon + To draw the cloud that hides the silver moon. + +Look as the fair and fiery-pointed sun, +Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight; +Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun +To wink, being blinded with a greater light. +Whether it is that she reflects so bright + That dazzleth them, or else some shame supposed, + But blind they are and keep themselves enclosed. + +O, had they in that darksome prison died, +Then had they seen the period of their ill! +Then Collatine again by Lucrece' side +In his clear bed might have reposed still. +But they must ope, this blessed league to kill, + And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight + Must sell her joy, her life, her world's delight. + +Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, +Coz'ning the pillow of a lawful kiss, +Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder, +Swelling on either side to want his bliss; +Between whose hills her head entombed is, + Where like a virtuous monument she lies, + To be admired of lewd unhallowed eyes. + +Without the bed her other fair hand was, +On the green coverlet, whose perfect white +Showed like an April daisy on the grass, +With pearly sweat resembling dew of night. +Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light + And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay + Till they might open to adorn the day. + +Her hair, like golden threads, played with her breath-- +O, modest wantons, wanton modesty!-- +Showing life's triumph in the map of death +And death's dim look in life's mortality. +Each in her sleep themselves so beautify + As if between them twain there were no strife, + But that life lived in death and death in life. + +Her breasts like ivory globes circled with blue, +A pair of maiden worlds unconquered, +Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew, +And him by oath they truly honored. +These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred, + Who, like a foul usurper, went about + From this fair throne to heave the owner out. + +What could he see but mightily he noted? +What did he note but strongly he desired? +What he beheld, on that he firmly doted, +And in his will his willful eye he tired. +With more than admiration he admired + Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, + Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin. + +As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey, +Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied, +So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay, +His rage of lust by gazing qualified-- +Slaked, not suppressed; for, standing by her side, + His eye, which late this mutiny restrains, + Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins. + +And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting, +Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting, +In bloody death and ravishment delighting, +Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting, +Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting. + Anon his beating heart, alarum striking, + Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking. + +His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye; +His eye commends the leading to his hand; +His hand, as proud of such a dignity, +Smoking with pride, marched on to make his stand +On her bare breast, the heart of all her land, + Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, + Left their round turrets destitute and pale. + +They, must'ring to the quiet cabinet +Where their dear governess and lady lies, +Do tell her she is dreadfully beset, +And fright her with confusion of their cries. +She, much amazed, breaks ope her locked-up eyes, + Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, + Are by his flaming torch dimmed and controlled. + +Imagine her as one in dead of night +From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking, +That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite, +Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking. +What terror 'tis! But she, in worser taking, + From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view + The sight which makes supposed terror true. + +Wrapped and confounded in a thousand fears, +Like to a new-killed bird she trembling lies. +She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears +Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes. +Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries, + Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, + In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights. + +His hand, that yet remains upon her breast, +Rude ram to batter such an ivory wall, +May feel her heart, poor citizen, distressed, +Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall, +Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal. + This moves in him more rage and lesser pity + To make the breach and enter this sweet city. + +First, like a trumpet doth his tongue begin +To sound a parley to his heartless foe, +Who o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin +The reason of this rash alarm to know, +Which he by dumb demeanor seeks to show. + But she with vehement prayers urgeth still + Under what color he commits this ill. + +Thus he replies: "The color in thy face, +That even for anger makes the lily pale, +And the red rose blush at her own disgrace, +Shall plead for me and tell my loving tale. +Under that color am I come to scale + Thy never-conquered fort; the fault is thine, + For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine. + +"Thus I forestall thee if thou mean to chide: +Thy beauty hath ensnared thee to this night, +Where thou with patience must my will abide, +My will that marks thee for my earth's delight, +Which I to conquer sought with all my might. + But as reproof and reason beat it dead, + By thy bright beauty was it newly bred. + +"I see what crosses my attempt will bring; +I know what thorns the growing rose defends; +I think the honey guarded with a sting; +All this beforehand counsel comprehends. +But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends; + Only he hath an eye to gaze on beauty + And dotes on what he looks, 'gainst law or duty. + +"I have debated, even in my soul, +What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed, +But nothing can affection's course control +Or stop the headlong fury of his speed. +I know repentant tears ensue the deed, + Reproach, disdain, and deadly enmity, + Yet strive I to embrace mine infamy." + +This said, he shakes aloft his Roman blade, +Which, like a falcon tow'ring in the skies, +Coucheth the fowl below with his wings' shade, +Whose crooked beak threats, if he mount, he dies. +So under his insulting falchion lies + Harmless Lucretia, marking what he tells + With trembling fear, as fowl hear falcons' bells. + +"Lucrece," quoth he, "this night I must enjoy thee. +If thou deny, then force must work my way, +For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee. +That done, some worthless slave of thine I'll slay, +To kill thine honor with thy life's decay, + And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him, + Swearing I slew him, seeing thee embrace him. + +"So thy surviving husband shall remain +The scornful mark of every open eye, +Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdain, +Thy issue blurred with nameless bastardy; +And thou, the author of their obloquy, + Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes + And sung by children in succeeding times. + +"But if thou yield, I rest thy secret friend. +The fault unknown is as a thought unacted; +A little harm done to a great good end +For lawful policy remains enacted. +The poisonous simple sometimes is compacted + In a pure compound; being so applied, + His venom in effect is purified. + +"Then, for thy husband and thy children's sake, +Tender my suit. Bequeath not to their lot +The shame that from them no device can take, +The blemish that will never be forgot, +Worse than a slavish wipe or birth-hour's blot, + For marks descried in men's nativity + Are nature's faults, not their own infamy." + +Here with a cockatrice' dead-killing eye +He rouseth up himself and makes a pause, +While she, the picture of pure piety, +Like a white hind under the gripe's sharp claws, +Pleads, in a wilderness where are no laws, + To the rough beast that knows no gentle right + Nor aught obeys but his foul appetite. + +But when a black-faced cloud the world doth threat, +In his dim mist th' aspiring mountains hiding, +From Earth's dark womb some gentle gust doth get, +Which blow these pitchy vapors from their biding, +Hind'ring their present fall by this dividing; + So his unhallowed haste her words delays, + And moody Pluto winks while Orpheus plays. + +Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but dally, +While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth. +Her sad behavior feeds his vulture folly, +A swallowing gulf that even in plenty wanteth. +His ear her prayers admits, but his heart granteth + No penetrable entrance to her plaining; + Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining. + +Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fixed +In the remorseless wrinkles of his face. +Her modest eloquence with sighs is mixed, +Which to her oratory adds more grace. +She puts the period often from his place, + And midst the sentence so her accent breaks + That twice she doth begin ere once she speaks. + +She conjures him by high almighty Jove, +By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's oath, +By her untimely tears, her husband's love, +By holy human law, and common troth, +By heaven and Earth, and all the power of both, + That to his borrowed bed he make retire + And stoop to honor, not to foul desire. + +Quoth she, "Reward not hospitality +With such black payment as thou hast pretended; +Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee. +Mar not the thing that cannot be amended. +End thy ill aim before thy shoot be ended; + He is no woodman that doth bend his bow + To strike a poor unseasonable doe. + +"My husband is thy friend; for his sake spare me. +Thyself art mighty; for thine own sake leave me. +Myself a weakling, do not then ensnare me; +Thou look'st not like deceit; do not deceive me. +My sighs, like whirlwinds, labor hence to heave thee. + If ever man were moved with woman's moans, + Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans, + +"All which together, like a troubled ocean, +Beat at thy rocky and wrack-threat'ning heart, +To soften it with their continual motion, +For stones dissolved to water do convert. +O, if no harder than a stone thou art, + Melt at my tears and be compassionate! + Soft pity enters at an iron gate. + +"In Tarquin's likeness I did entertain thee. +Hast thou put on his shape to do him shame? +To all the host of heaven I complain me: +Thou wrong'st his honor, wound'st his princely name. +Thou art not what thou seem'st, and if the same, + Thou seem'st not what thou art, a god, a king; + For kings, like gods, should govern everything. + +"How will thy shame be seeded in thine age +When thus thy vices bud before thy spring? +If in thy hope thou dar'st do such outrage, +What dar'st thou not when once thou art a king? +O, be remembered, no outrageous thing + From vassal actors can be wiped away; + Then king's misdeeds cannot be hid in clay. + +"This deed will make thee only loved for fear, +But happy monarchs still are feared for love. +With foul offenders thou perforce must bear +When they in thee the like offenses prove. +If but for fear of this, thy will remove, + For princes are the glass, the school, the book, + Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look. + +"And wilt thou be the school where Lust shall learn? +Must he in thee read lectures of such shame? +Wilt thou be glass wherein it shall discern +Authority for sin, warrant for blame, +To privilege dishonor in thy name? + Thou back'st reproach against long-living laud + And mak'st fair reputation but a bawd. + +"Hast thou command? By Him that gave it thee, +From a pure heart command thy rebel will. +Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity, +For it was lent thee all that brood to kill. +Thy princely office how canst thou fulfill + When, patterned by thy fault, foul Sin may say + He learned to sin, and thou didst teach the way. + +"Think but how vile a spectacle it were +To view thy present trespass in another. +Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear; +Their own transgressions partially they smother. +This guilt would seem death-worthy in thy brother. + O, how are they wrapped in with infamies + That from their own misdeeds askance their eyes! + +"To thee, to thee, my heaved-up hands appeal, +Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier. +I sue for exiled majesty's repeal; +Let him return, and flatt'ring thoughts retire. +His true respect will prison false desire + And wipe the dim mist from thy doting eyne, + That thou shalt see thy state and pity mine." + +"Have done," quoth he. "My uncontrolled tide +Turns not, but swells the higher by this let. +Small lights are soon blown out; huge fires abide, +And with the wind in greater fury fret. +The petty streams that pay a daily debt + To their salt sovereign with their fresh falls' haste + Add to his flow but alter not his taste." + +"Thou art," quoth she, "a sea, a sovereign king, +And, lo, there falls into thy boundless flood +Black lust, dishonor, shame, misgoverning, +Who seek to stain the ocean of thy blood. +If all these petty ills shall change thy good, + Thy sea within a puddle's womb is hearsed, + And not the puddle in thy sea dispersed. + +"So shall these slaves be king, and thou their slave; +Thou nobly base, they basely dignified; +Thou their fair life, and they thy fouler grave; +Thou loathed in their shame, they in thy pride. +The lesser thing should not the greater hide; + The cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot, + But low shrubs wither at the cedar's root. + +"So let thy thoughts, low vassals to thy state--" +"No more," quoth he. "By heaven, I will not hear thee. +Yield to my love. If not, enforced hate, +Instead of love's coy touch, shall rudely tear thee. +That done, despitefully I mean to bear thee + Unto the base bed of some rascal groom, + To be thy partner in this shameful doom." + +This said, he sets his foot upon the light, +For light and lust are deadly enemies. +Shame folded up in blind concealing night, +When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize. +The wolf hath seized his prey; the poor lamb cries, + Till, with her own white fleece her voice controlled, + Entombs her outcry in her lips' sweet fold. + +For with the nightly linen that she wears +He pens her piteous clamors in her head, +Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears +That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed. +O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed! + The spots whereof could weeping purify, + Her tears should drop on them perpetually. + +But she hath lost a dearer thing than life, +And he hath won what he would lose again. +This forced league doth force a further strife; +This momentary joy breeds months of pain; +This hot desire converts to cold disdain. + Pure Chastity is rifled of her store, + And Lust, the thief, far poorer than before. + +Look as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk, +Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight, +Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk +The prey wherein by nature they delight; +So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night. + His taste delicious, in digestion souring, + Devours his will, that lived by foul devouring. + +O, deeper sin than bottomless conceit +Can comprehend in still imagination! +Drunken Desire must vomit his receipt +Ere he can see his own abomination. +While Lust is in his pride, no exclamation + Can curb his heat or rein his rash desire, + Till, like a jade, Self-will himself doth tire. + +And then with lank and lean discolored cheek, +With heavy eye, knit brow, and strengthless pace, +Feeble Desire, all recreant, poor, and meek, +Like to a bankrout beggar wails his case. +The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Grace, + For there it revels; and when that decays, + The guilty rebel for remission prays. + +So fares it with this faultful lord of Rome, +Who this accomplishment so hotly chased, +For now against himself he sounds this doom, +That through the length of times he stands disgraced. +Besides, his soul's fair temple is defaced, + To whose weak ruins muster troops of cares + To ask the spotted princess how she fares. + +She says her subjects with foul insurrection +Have battered down her consecrated wall +And, by their mortal fault, brought in subjection +Her immortality, and made her thrall +To living death and pain perpetual, + Which in her prescience she controlled still, + But her foresight could not forestall their will. + +E'en in this thought through the dark night he stealeth, +A captive victor that hath lost in gain, +Bearing away the wound that nothing healeth, +The scar that will, despite of cure, remain, +Leaving his spoil perplexed in greater pain. + She bears the load of lust he left behind, + And he the burden of a guilty mind. + +He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence; +She like a wearied lamb lies panting there. +He scowls and hates himself for his offense; +She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear. +He faintly flies, sweating with guilty fear; + She stays, exclaiming on the direful night; + He runs and chides his vanished, loathed delight. + +He thence departs a heavy convertite; +She there remains a hopeless castaway. +He in his speed looks for the morning light; +She prays she never may behold the day. +"For day," quoth she, "night's scapes doth open lay, + And my true eyes have never practiced how + To cloak offenses with a cunning brow. + +"They think not but that every eye can see +The same disgrace which they themselves behold, +And therefore would they still in darkness be, +To have their unseen sin remain untold. +For they their guilt with weeping will unfold, + And grave, like water that doth eat in steel, + Upon my cheeks what helpless shame I feel." + +Here she exclaims against repose and rest +And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind. +She wakes her heart by beating on her breast, +And bids it leap from thence, where it may find +Some purer chest to close so pure a mind. + Frantic with grief thus breathes she forth her spite + Against the unseen secrecy of night. + +"O, comfort-killing Night, image of hell, +Dim register and notary of shame, +Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, +Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame, +Blind muffled bawd, dark harbor for defame, + Grim cave of death, whisp'ring conspirator + With close-tongued treason and the ravisher! + +"O, hateful, vaporous, and foggy Night, +Since thou art guilty of my cureless crime, +Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light, +Make war against proportioned course of time; +Or, if thou wilt permit the sun to climb + His wonted height, yet ere he go to bed, + Knit poisonous clouds about his golden head. + +"With rotten damps ravish the morning air; +Let their exhaled unwholesome breaths make sick +The life of purity, the supreme fair, +Ere he arrive his weary noontide prick, +And let thy musty vapors march so thick + That in their smoky ranks his smothered light + May set at noon and make perpetual night. + +"Were Tarquin Night, as he is but Night's child, +The silver-shining queen he would distain; +Her twinkling handmaids too, by him defiled, +Through Night's black bosom should not peep again. +So should I have copartners in my pain, + And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage, + As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage. + +"Where now I have no one to blush with me, +To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine, +To mask their brows and hide their infamy, +But I alone alone must sit and pine, +Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine, + Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans, + Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans. + +"O Night, thou furnace of foul reeking smoke, +Let not the jealous Day behold that face +Which underneath thy black all-hiding cloak +Immodestly lies martyred with disgrace! +Keep still possession of thy gloomy place, + That all the faults which in thy reign are made + May likewise be sepulchered in thy shade. + +"Make me not object to the telltale Day. +The light will show charactered in my brow +The story of sweet chastity's decay, +The impious breach of holy wedlock vow. +Yea, the illiterate, that know not how + To cipher what is writ in learned books, + Will quote my loathsome trespass in my looks. + +"The nurse, to still her child, will tell my story +And fright her crying babe with Tarquin's name. +The orator, to deck his oratory, +Will couple my reproach to Tarquin's shame. +Feast-finding minstrels, tuning my defame, + Will tie the hearers to attend each line, + How Tarquin wronged me, I Collatine. + +"Let my good name, that senseless reputation, +For Collatine's dear love be kept unspotted. +If that be made a theme for disputation, +The branches of another root are rotted +And undeserved reproach to him allotted + That is as clear from this attaint of mine + As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine. + +"O unseen shame, invisible disgrace! +O unfelt sore, crest-wounding private scar! +Reproach is stamped in Collatinus' face, +And Tarquin's eye may read the mot afar, +How he in peace is wounded, not in war. + Alas, how many bear such shameful blows, + Which not themselves but he that gives them knows! + +"If, Collatine, thine honor lay in me, +From me by strong assault it is bereft; +My honey lost, and I, a drone-like bee, +Have no perfection of my summer left, +But robbed and ransacked by injurious theft. + In thy weak hive a wand'ring wasp hath crept + And sucked the honey which thy chaste bee kept. + +"Yet am I guilty of thy honor's wrack; +Yet for thy honor did I entertain him. +Coming from thee, I could not put him back, +For it had been dishonor to disdain him. +Besides, of weariness he did complain him + And talked of virtue. O, unlooked-for evil, + When virtue is profaned in such a devil! + +"Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud? +Or hateful cuckoos hatch in sparrows' nests? +Or toads infect fair founts with venom mud? +Or tyrant folly lurk in gentle breasts? +Or kings be breakers of their own behests? + But no perfection is so absolute + That some impurity doth not pollute. + +"The aged man that coffers up his gold +Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits +And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, +But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, +And useless barns the harvest of his wits, + Having no other pleasure of his gain + But torment that it cannot cure his pain. + +"So then he hath it when he cannot use it +And leaves it to be mastered by his young, +Who in their pride do presently abuse it. +Their father was too weak and they too strong +To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long. + The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours + Even in the moment that we call them ours. + +"Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring; +Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers; +The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing; +What Virtue breeds Iniquity devours. +We have no good that we can say is ours + But ill-annexed Opportunity + Or kills his life or else his quality. + +"O Opportunity, thy guilt is great! +'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's treason; +Thou sets the wolf where he the lamb may get; +Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the season. +'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason, + And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him, + Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him. + +"Thou makest the vestal violate her oath; +Thou blowest the fire when temperance is thawed; +Thou smother'st honesty, thou murd'rest troth. +Thou foul abettor, thou notorious bawd, +Thou plantest scandal and displacest laud. + Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief, + Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief. + +"Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, +Thy private feasting to a public fast, +Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name, +Thy sugared tongue to bitter wormwood taste. +Thy violent vanities can never last. + How comes it, then, vile Opportunity, + Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee? + +"When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend +And bring him where his suit may be obtained? +When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end, +Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained, +Give physic to the sick, ease to the pained? + The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee, + But they ne'er meet with Opportunity. + +"The patient dies while the physician sleeps; +The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds; +Justice is feasting while the widow weeps; +Advice is sporting while infection breeds. +Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds. + Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages, + Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages. + +"When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee, +A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid. +They buy thy help, but Sin ne'er gives a fee; +He gratis comes, and thou art well apaid +As well to hear as grant what he hath said. + My Collatine would else have come to me + When Tarquin did, but he was stayed by thee. + +"Guilty thou art of murder and of theft, +Guilty of perjury and subornation, +Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift, +Guilty of incest, that abomination-- +An accessory by thine inclination + To all sins past and all that are to come, + From the creation to the general doom. + +"Misshapen Time, copesmate of ugly Night, +Swift subtle post, carrier of grisly care, +Eater of youth, false slave to false delight, +Base watch of woes, sin's packhorse, virtue's snare! +Thou nursest all and murd'rest all that are. + O, hear me, then, injurious, shifting Time! + Be guilty of my death, since of my crime. + +"Why hath thy servant Opportunity +Betrayed the hours thou gav'st me to repose, +Canceled my fortunes, and enchained me +To endless date of never-ending woes? +Time's office is to fine the hate of foes, + To eat up errors by opinion bred, + Not spend the dowry of a lawful bed. + +"Time's glory is to calm contending kings, +To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light, +To stamp the seal of time in aged things, +To wake the morn and sentinel the night, +To wrong the wronger till he render right, + To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours + And smear with dust their glitt'ring golden towers, + +"To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, +To feed oblivion with decay of things, +To blot old books and alter their contents, +To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings, +To dry the old oak's sap and cherish springs, + To spoil antiquities of hammered steel + And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel, + +"To show the beldam daughters of her daughter, +To make the child a man, the man a child, +To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter, +To tame the unicorn and lion wild, +To mock the subtle in themselves beguiled, + To cheer the plowman with increaseful crops + And waste huge stones with little water drops. + +"Why work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage, +Unless thou couldst return to make amends? +One poor retiring minute in an age +Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends, +Lending him wit that to bad debtors lends. + O this dread night, wouldst thou one hour come back, + I could prevent this storm and shun thy wrack! + +"Thou ceaseless lackey to Eternity, +With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight. +Devise extremes beyond extremity +To make him curse this cursed crimeful night. +Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright, + And the dire thought of his committed evil + Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil. + +"Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances. +Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans. +Let there bechance him pitiful mischances +To make him moan, but pity not his moans. +Stone him with hard'ned hearts harder than stones, + And let mild women to him lose their mildness, + Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness. + +"Let him have time to tear his curled hair, +Let him have time against himself to rave, +Let him have time of Time's help to despair, +Let him have time to live a loathed slave, +Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave + And time to see one that by alms doth live + Disdain to him disdained scraps to give. + +"Let him have time to see his friends his foes, +And merry fools to mock at him resort. +Let him have time to mark how slow time goes +In time of sorrow, and how swift and short +His time of folly and his time of sport; + And ever let his unrecalling crime + Have time to wail th'abusing of his time. + +"O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, +Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill! +At his own shadow let the thief run mad, +Himself himself seek every hour to kill. +Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill, + For who so base would such an office have + As sland'rous deathsman to so base a slave? + +"The baser is he, coming from a king, +To shame his hope with deeds degenerate. +The mightier man, the mightier is the thing +That makes him honored or begets him hate; +For greatest scandal waits on greatest state. + The moon being clouded presently is missed, + But little stars may hide them when they list. + +"The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire +And unperceived fly with the filth away, +But if the like the snow-white swan desire, +The stain upon his silver down will stay. +Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious day. + Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly, + But eagles gazed upon with every eye. + +"Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools, +Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators! +Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools; +Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters; +To trembling clients be you mediators. + For me, I force not argument a straw, + Since that my case is past the help of law. + +"In vain I rail at Opportunity, +At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night. +In vain I cavil with mine infamy. +In vain I spurn at my confirmed despite. +This helpless smoke of words doth me no right. + The remedy indeed to do me good + Is to let forth my foul defiled blood. + +"Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree? +Honor thyself to rid me of this shame, +For if I die, my honor lives in thee, +But if I live, thou liv'st in my defame; +Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame + And wast affeard to scratch her wicked foe, + Kill both thyself and her for yielding so." + +This said, from her betumbled couch she starteth, +To find some desp'rate instrument of death, +But this, no slaughterhouse, no tool imparteth +To make more vent for passage of her breath, +Which, thronging through her lips, so vanisheth + As smoke from Etna, that in air consumes, + Or that which from discharged cannon fumes. + +"In vain," quoth she, "I live, and seek in vain +Some happy mean to end a hapless life. +I feared by Tarquin's falchion to be slain, +Yet for the selfsame purpose seek a knife. +But when I feared, I was a loyal wife; + So am I now.--O no, that cannot be! + Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me. + +"O, that is gone for which I sought to live, +And therefore now I need not fear to die. +To clear this spot by death, at least I give +A badge of fame to slander's livery, +A dying life to living infamy. + Poor helpless help, the treasure stol'n away, + To burn the guiltless casket where it lay! + +"Well, well, dear Collatine, thou shalt not know +The stained taste of violated troth; +I will not wrong thy true affection so +To flatter thee with an infringed oath. +This bastard graff shall never come to growth; + He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute + That thou art doting father of his fruit. + +"Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought, +Nor laugh with his companions at thy state, +But thou shalt know thy int'rest was not bought +Basely with gold, but stol'n from forth thy gate. +For me, I am the mistress of my fate + And with my trespass never will dispense + Till life to death acquit my forced offense. + +"I will not poison thee with my attaint, +Nor fold my fault in cleanly coined excuses; +My sable ground of sin I will not paint +To hide the truth of this false night's abuses. +My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes, like sluices, + As from a mountain spring that feeds a dale, + Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale." + +By this, lamenting Philomel had ended +The well-tuned warble of her nightly sorrow, +And solemn night with slow sad gait descended +To ugly hell, when, lo, the blushing morrow +Lends light to all fair eyes that light will borrow. + But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see + And therefore still in night would cloistered be. + +Revealing day through every cranny spies +And seems to point her out where she sits weeping, +To whom she sobbing speaks: "O eye of eyes, +Why pry'st thou through my window? Leave thy peeping. +Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are sleeping. + Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light, + For day hath naught to do what's done by night." + +Thus cavils she with everything she sees. +True grief is fond and testy as a child, +Who, wayward once, his mood with naught agrees. +Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild: +Continuance tames the one; the other, wild, + Like an unpracticed swimmer plunging still + With too much labor drowns for want of skill. + +So she, deep drenched in a sea of care, +Holds disputation with each thing she views +And to herself all sorrow doth compare; +No object but her passion's strength renews, +And as one shifts, another straight ensues. + Sometimes her grief is dumb and hath no words; + Sometimes 'tis mad and too much talk affords. + +The little birds that tune their morning's joy +Make her moans mad with their sweet melody, +For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy; +Sad souls are slain in merry company. +Grief best is pleased with grief's society; + True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed + When with like semblance it is sympathized. + +'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore; +He ten times pines that pines beholding food; +To see the salve doth make the wound ache more; +Great grief grieves most at that would do it good. +Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood, + Who, being stopped, the bounding banks o'erflows; + Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows. + +"You mocking birds," quoth she, "your tunes entomb +Within your hollow-swelling feathered breasts, +And in my hearing be you mute and dumb; +My restless discord loves no stops nor rests. +A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests. + Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears; + Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears. + +"Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment, +Make thy sad grove in my disheveled hair. +As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, +So I at each sad strain will strain a tear +And with deep groans the diapason bear; + For burden-wise I'll hum on Tarquin still, + While thou on Tereus descants better skill. + +"And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part +To keep thy sharp woes waking, wretched I, +To imitate thee well, against my heart +Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye, +Who if it wink shall thereon fall and die. + These means, as frets upon an instrument, + Shall tune our heartstrings to true languishment. + +"And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day, +As shaming any eye should thee behold, +Some dark, deep desert seated from the way, +That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold, +Will we find out, and there we will unfold + To creatures stern sad tunes to change their kinds. + Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds." + +As the poor frighted deer that stands at gaze, +Wildly determining which way to fly, +Or one encompassed with a winding maze, +That cannot tread the way out readily, +So with herself is she in mutiny, + To live or die which of the twain were better + When life is shamed and death reproach's debtor. + +"To kill myself," quoth she, "alack, what were it +But with my body my poor soul's pollution? +They that lose half with greater patience bear it +Than they whose whole is swallowed in confusion. +That mother tries a merciless conclusion + Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one, + Will slay the other and be nurse to none. + +"My body or my soul, which was the dearer +When the one pure, the other made divine? +Whose love of either to myself was nearer +When both were kept for heaven and Collatine? +Ay me, the bark pilled from the lofty pine, + His leaves will wither and his sap decay; + So must my soul, her bark being pilled away. + +"Her house is sacked, her quiet interrupted, +Her mansion battered by the enemy, +Her sacred temple spotted, spoiled, corrupted, +Grossly engirt with daring infamy. +Then let it not be called impiety + If in this blemished fort I make some hole + Through which I may convey this troubled soul. + +"Yet die I will not till my Collatine +Have heard the cause of my untimely death, +That he may vow, in that sad hour of mine, +Revenge on him that made me stop my breath. +My stained blood to Tarquin I'll bequeath, + Which, by him tainted, shall for him be spent, + And as his due writ in my testament. + +"My honor I'll bequeath unto the knife +That wounds my body so dishonored. +'Tis honor to deprive dishonored life; +The one will live, the other being dead. +So of shame's ashes shall my fame be bred, + For in my death I murder shameful scorn; + My shame so dead, mine honor is new born. + +"Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost, +What legacy shall I bequeath to thee? +My resolution, love, shall be thy boast, +By whose example thou revenged mayst be. +How Tarquin must be used, read it in me; + Myself, thy friend, will kill myself, thy foe, + And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so. + +"This brief abridgement of my will I make: +My soul and body to the skies and ground; +My resolution, husband, do thou take; +Mine honor be the knife's that makes my wound; +My shame be his that did my fame confound; + And all my fame that lives disbursed be + To those that live and think no shame of me. + +"Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will; +How was I overseen that thou shalt see it! +My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill; +My life's foul deed my life's fair end shall free it. +Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say, "So be it." + Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee. + Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be." + +This plot of death when sadly she had laid, +And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes, +With untuned tongue she hoarsely calls her maid, +Whose swift obedience to her mistress hies, +For fleet-winged duty with thought's feathers flies. + Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so + As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow. + +Her mistress she doth give demure good morrow +With soft slow tongue, true mark of modesty, +And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow, +Forwhy her face wore sorrow's livery, +But durst not ask of her audaciously + Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so, + Nor why her fair cheeks over-washed with woe. + +But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, +Each flower moistened like a melting eye, +Even so the maid with swelling drops gan wet +Her circled eyne, enforced by sympathy +Of those fair suns set in her mistress' sky, + Who in a salt-waved ocean quench their light, + Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night. + +A pretty while these pretty creatures stand +Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling. +One justly weeps; the other takes in hand +No cause but company of her drops' spilling. +Their gentle sex to weep are often willing, + Grieving themselves to guess at others' smarts, + And then they drown their eyes or break their hearts. + +For men have marble, women waxen, minds, +And therefore are they formed as marble will. +The weak oppressed, th' impression of strange kinds +Is formed in them by force, by fraud, or skill. +Then call them not the authors of their ill + No more than wax shall be accounted evil + Wherein is stamped the semblance of a devil. + +Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain, +Lays open all the little worms that creep; +In men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain +Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep. +Through crystal walls each little mote will peep. + Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, + Poor women's faces are their own faults' books. + +No man inveigh against the withered flower, +But chide rough winter that the flower hath killed. +Not that devoured, but that which doth devour, +Is worthy blame. O, let it not be hild +Poor women's faults that they are so fulfilled + With men's abuses. Those proud lords, to blame, + Make weak-made women tenants to their shame. + +The precedent whereof in Lucrece view, +Assailed by night with circumstances strong +Of present death, and shame that might ensue +By that her death, to do her husband wrong. +Such danger to resistance did belong + That dying fear through all her body spread, + And who cannot abuse a body dead? + +By this, mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak +To the poor counterfeit of her complaining: +"My girl," quoth she, "on what occasion break +Those tears from thee, that down thy cheeks are raining? +If thou dost weep for grief of my sustaining, + Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood. + If tears could help, mine own would do me good. + +"But tell me, girl, when went"--and there she stayed +Till after a deep groan--"Tarquin from hence?" +"Madam, ere I was up," replied the maid, +"The more to blame my sluggard negligence. +Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense: + Myself was stirring ere the break of day, + And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away. + +"But, lady, if your maid may be so bold, +She would request to know your heaviness." +"O, peace!" quoth Lucrece. "If it should be told, +The repetition cannot make it less, +For more it is than I can well express, + And that deep torture may be called a hell + When more is felt than one hath power to tell. + +"Go, get me hither paper, ink, and pen. +Yet save that labor, for I have them here.-- +What should I say?--One of my husband's men +Bid thou be ready by and by to bear +A letter to my lord, my love, my dear. + Bid him with speed prepare to carry it; + The cause craves haste, and it will soon be writ." + +Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write, +First hovering o'er the paper with her quill. +Conceit and grief an eager combat fight; +What wit sets down is blotted straight with will; +This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill. + Much like a press of people at a door + Throng her inventions, which shall go before. + +At last she thus begins: "Thou worthy lord +Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, +Health to thy person. Next, vouchsafe t' afford, +If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see, +Some present speed to come and visit me. + So I commend me from our house in grief. + My woes are tedious, though my words are brief." + +Here folds she up the tenor of her woe, +Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly. +By this short schedule Collatine may know +Her grief, but not her grief's true quality. +She dares not thereof make discovery + Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse + Ere she with blood had stained her stained excuse. + +Besides, the life and feeling of her passion +She hoards to spend when he is by to hear her, +When sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion +Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her +From that suspicion which the world might bear her. + To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter + With words till action might become them better. + +To see sad sights moves more than hear them told, +For then the eye interprets to the ear +The heavy motion that it doth behold +When every part a part of woe doth bear. +'Tis but a part of sorrow that we hear. + Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords, + And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words. + +Her letter now is sealed, and on it writ, +"At Ardea to my lord with more than haste." +The post attends, and she delivers it, +Charging the sour-faced groom to hie as fast +As lagging fowls before the northern blast. + Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems; + Extremity still urgeth such extremes. + +The homely villain curtsies to her low +And, blushing on her with a steadfast eye, +Receives the scroll without or yea or no, +And forth with bashful innocence doth hie. +But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie + Imagine every eye beholds their blame, + For Lucrece thought he blushed to see her shame, + +When, silly groom, God wot, it was defect +Of spirit, life, and bold audacity. +Such harmless creatures have a true respect +To talk in deeds, while others saucily +Promise more speed but do it leisurely. + Even so this pattern of the worn-out age + Pawned honest looks, but laid no words to gage. + +His kindled duty kindled her mistrust, +That two red fires in both their faces blazed. +She thought he blushed as knowing Tarquin's lust +And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed. +Her earnest eye did make him more amazed. + The more she saw the blood his cheeks replenish, + The more she thought he spied in her some blemish. + +But long she thinks till he return again, +And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone. +The weary time she cannot entertain, +For now 'tis stale to sigh, to weep, and groan; +So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan, + That she her plaints a little while doth stay, + Pausing for means to mourn some newer way. + +At last she calls to mind where hangs a piece +Of skillful painting, made for Priam's Troy, +Before the which is drawn the power of Greece, +For Helen's rape the city to destroy, +Threat'ning cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy, + Which the conceited painter drew so proud + As heaven, it seemed, to kiss the turrets bowed. + +A thousand lamentable objects there, +In scorn of Nature, Art gave lifeless life. +Many a dry drop seemed a weeping tear +Shed for the slaughtered husband by the wife. +The red blood reeked to show the painter's strife, + And dying eyes gleamed forth their ashy lights + Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights. + +There might you see the laboring pioneer +Begrimed with sweat and smeared all with dust, +And from the towers of Troy there would appear +The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust, +Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust. + Such sweet observance in this work was had + That one might see those far-off eyes look sad. + +In great commanders grace and majesty +You might behold, triumphing in their faces; +In youth, quick bearing and dexterity; +And here and there the painter interlaces +Pale cowards marching on with trembling paces, + Which heartless peasants did so well resemble + That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble. + +In Ajax and Ulysses, O, what art +Of physiognomy might one behold! +The face of either ciphered either's heart, +Their face their manners most expressly told. +In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigor rolled, + But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent + Showed deep regard and smiling government. + +There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand, +As 'twere encouraging the Greeks to fight, +Making such sober action with his hand +That it beguiled attention, charmed the sight. +In speech, it seemed, his beard, all silver white, + Wagged up and down, and from his lips did fly + Thin winding breath, which purled up to the sky. + +About him were a press of gaping faces, +Which seemed to swallow up his sound advice, +All jointly list'ning, but with several graces, +As if some mermaid did their ears entice; +Some high, some low, the painter was so nice. + The scalps of many, almost hid behind, + To jump up higher seemed, to mock the mind. + +Here one man's hand leaned on another's head, +His nose being shadowed by his neighbor's ear; +Here one being thronged bears back, all boll'n and red; +Another, smothered, seems to pelt and swear; +And in their rage such signs of rage they bear + As, but for loss of Nestor's golden words, + It seemed they would debate with angry swords. + +For much imaginary work was there, +Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, +That for Achilles' image stood his spear +Gripped in an armed hand; himself, behind, +Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind. + A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head, + Stood for the whole to be imagined. + +And from the walls of strong-besieged Troy, +When their brave hope, bold Hector, marched to field, +Stood many Trojan mothers, sharing joy +To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield, +And to their hope they such odd action yield + That through their light joy seemed to appear, + Like bright things stained, a kind of heavy fear. + +And from the strand of Dardan, where they fought, +To Simois' reedy banks the red blood ran, +Whose waves to imitate the battle sought +With swelling ridges, and their ranks began +To break upon the galled shore, and then + Retire again till, meeting greater ranks, + They join and shoot their foam at Simois' banks. + +To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come +To find a face where all distress is stelled. +Many she sees where cares have carved some, +But none where all distress and dolor dwelled, +Till she despairing Hecuba beheld, + Staring on Priam's wounds with her old eyes, + Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies. + +In her the painter had anatomized +Time's ruin, beauty's wrack, and grim care's reign. +Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguised; +Of what she was no semblance did remain. +Her blue blood, changed to black in every vein, + Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed, + Showed life imprisoned in a body dead. + +On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes, +And shapes her sorrow to the beldam's woes, +Who nothing wants to answer her but cries +And bitter words to ban her cruel foes. +The painter was no god to lend her those, + And therefore Lucrece swears he did her wrong + To give her so much grief and not a tongue. + +"Poor instrument," quoth she, "without a sound, +I'll tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue, +And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted wound, +And rail on Pyrrhus, that hath done him wrong, +And with my tears quench Troy, that burns so long, + And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes + Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies. + +"Show me the strumpet that began this stir, +That with my nails her beauty I may tear. +Thy heat of lust, fond Paris, did incur +This load of wrath that burning Troy doth bear; +Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here, + And here in Troy, for trespass of thine eye, + The sire, the son, the dame, and daughter die. + +"Why should the private pleasure of some one +Become the public plague of many moe? +Let sin, alone committed, light alone +Upon his head that hath transgressed so; +Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe. + For one's offense why should so many fall, + To plague a private sin in general? + +"Lo, here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies, +Here manly Hector faints, here Troilus swounds, +Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies, +And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds, +And one man's lust these many lives confounds. + Had doting Priam checked his son's desire, + Troy had been bright with fame and not with fire." + +Here feelingly she weeps Troy's painted woes, +For sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell, +Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes; +Then little strength rings out the doleful knell. +So Lucrece, set a-work, sad tales doth tell + To penciled pensiveness and colored sorrow; + She lends them words, and she their looks doth borrow. + +She throws her eyes about the painting round, +And who she finds forlorn she doth lament. +At last she sees a wretched image bound, +That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent. +His face, though full of cares, yet showed content; + Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes, + So mild that patience seemed to scorn his woes. + +In him the painter labored with his skill +To hide deceit and give the harmless show +An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still, +A brow unbent that seemed to welcome woe, +Cheeks neither red nor pale but mingled so + That blushing red no guilty instance gave, + Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have. + +But, like a constant and confirmed devil, +He entertained a show so seeming just, +And therein so ensconced his secret evil, +That jealousy itself could not mistrust +False-creeping craft and perjury should thrust + Into so bright a day such black-faced storms, + Or blot with hell-born sin such saintlike forms. + +The well-skilled workman this mild image drew +For perjured Sinon, whose enchanting story +The credulous old Priam after slew; +Whose words like wildfire burnt the shining glory +Of rich-built Ilion, that the skies were sorry, + And little stars shot from their fixed places + When their glass fell wherein they viewed their faces. + +This picture she advisedly perused, +And chid the painter for his wondrous skill, +Saying some shape in Sinon's was abused; +So fair a form lodged not a mind so ill. +And still on him she gazed, and gazing still, + Such signs of truth in his plain face she spied + That she concludes the picture was belied. + +"It cannot be," quoth she, "that so much guile"-- +She would have said "can lurk in such a look," +But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while +And from her tongue "can lurk" from "cannot" took. +"It cannot be" she in that sense forsook, + And turned it thus: "It cannot be, I find, + But such a face should bear a wicked mind. + +"For even as subtle Sinon here is painted +So sober sad, so weary, and so mild, +As if with grief or travail he had fainted, +To me came Tarquin armed too, beguiled +With outward honesty, but yet defiled + With inward vice. As Priam him did cherish, + So did I Tarquin; so my Troy did perish. + +"Look, look how list'ning Priam wets his eyes +To see those borrowed tears that Sinon sheeds! +Priam, why art thou old and yet not wise? +For every tear he falls, a Trojan bleeds. +His eye drops fire, no water thence proceeds; + Those round clear pearls of his, that move thy pity, + Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city. + +"Such devils steal effects from lightless hell, +For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold, +And in that cold hot-burning fire doth dwell. +These contraries such unity do hold +Only to flatter fools and make them bold. + So Priam's trust false Sinon's tears doth flatter, + That he finds means to burn his Troy with water." + +Here, all enraged, such passion her assails +That patience is quite beaten from her breast. +She tears the senseless Sinon with her nails, +Comparing him to that unhappy guest +Whose deed hath made herself herself detest. + At last she smilingly with this gives o'er: + "Fool, fool," quoth she, "his wounds will not be sore." + +Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow, +And time doth weary time with her complaining. +She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow, +And both she thinks too long with her remaining. +Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining; + Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps, + And they that watch see time how slow it creeps; + +Which all this time hath overslipped her thought +That she with painted images hath spent, +Being from the feeling of her own grief brought +By deep surmise of others' detriment, +Losing her woes in shows of discontent. + It easeth some, though none it ever cured, + To think their dolor others have endured. + +But now the mindful messenger, come back, +Brings home his lord and other company, +Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black, +And round about her tear-distained eye +Blue circles streamed like rainbows in the sky. + These water-galls in her dim element + Foretell new storms to those already spent; + +Which when her sad-beholding husband saw, +Amazedly in her sad face he stares. +Her eyes, though sod in tears, looked red and raw, +Her lively color killed with deadly cares. +He hath no power to ask her how she fares; + Both stood like old acquaintance in a trance, + Met far from home, wond'ring each other's chance. + +At last he takes her by the bloodless hand +And thus begins: "What uncouth ill event +Hath thee befall'n that thou dost trembling stand? +Sweet love, what spite hath thy fair color spent? +Why art thou thus attired in discontent? + Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness, + And tell thy grief, that we may give redress." + +Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire +Ere once she can discharge one word of woe. +At length addressed to answer his desire, +She modestly prepares to let them know +Her honor is ta'en prisoner by the foe, + While Collatine and his consorted lords + With sad attention long to hear her words. + +And now this pale swan in her wat'ry nest +Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending: +"Few words," quoth she, "shall fit the trespass best +Where no excuse can give the fault amending. +In me moe woes than words are now depending, + And my laments would be drawn out too long + To tell them all with one poor tired tongue. + +"Then be this all the task it hath to say: +Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed +A stranger came, and on that pillow lay +Where thou wast wont to rest thy weary head; +And what wrong else may be imagined + By foul enforcement might be done to me, + From that, alas, thy Lucrece is not free. + +"For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight, +With shining falchion in my chamber came +A creeping creature with a flaming light +And softly cried, "Awake, thou Roman dame, +And entertain my love, else lasting shame + On thee and thine this night I will inflict + If thou my love's desire do contradict. + +" 'For some hard-favored groom of thine,' quoth he, +'Unless thou yoke thy liking to my will, +I'll murder straight, and then I'll slaughter thee +And swear I found you where you did fulfill +The loathsome act of lust and so did kill + The lechers in their deed. This act will be + My fame and thy perpetual infamy.' + +"With this, I did begin to start and cry; +And then against my heart he set his sword, +Swearing, unless I took all patiently, +I should not live to speak another word; +So should my shame still rest upon record, + And never be forgot in mighty Rome + Th' adulterate death of Lucrece and her groom. + +"Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak, +And far the weaker with so strong a fear. +My bloody judge forbade my tongue to speak; +No rightful plea might plead for justice there. +His scarlet lust came evidence to swear + That my poor beauty had purloined his eyes, + And when the judge is robbed, the prisoner dies. + +"O, teach me how to make mine own excuse, +Or, at the least, this refuge let me find: +Though my gross blood be stained with this abuse, +Immaculate and spotless is my mind; +That was not forced, that never was inclined + To accessory yieldings, but still pure + Doth in her poisoned closet yet endure." + +Lo, here the hopeless merchant of this loss, +With head declined and voice dammed up with woe, +With sad set eyes and wreathed arms across, +From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow +The grief away that stops his answer so. + But, wretched as he is, he strives in vain; + What he breathes out his breath drinks up again. + +As through an arch the violent roaring tide +Outruns the eye that doth behold his haste, +Yet in the eddy boundeth in his pride +Back to the strait that forced him on so fast-- +In rage sent out, recalled in rage, being past-- + Even so his sighs, his sorrows, make a saw + To push grief on, and back the same grief draw, + +Which speechless woe of his poor she attendeth, +And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh: +"Dear lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth +Another power; no flood by raining slaketh. +My woe too sensible thy passion maketh + More feeling-painful. Let it then suffice + To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes. + +"And for my sake when I might charm thee so, +For she that was thy Lucrece, now attend me: +Be suddenly revenged on my foe, +Thine, mine, his own. Suppose thou dost defend me +From what is past. The help that thou shalt lend me + Comes all too late, yet let the traitor die, + For sparing justice feeds iniquity. + +"But ere I name him, you fair lords," quoth she, +Speaking to those that came with Collatine, +"Shall plight your honorable faiths to me +With swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine, +For 'tis a meritorious fair design + To chase injustice with revengeful arms. + Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' harms." + +At this request, with noble disposition +Each present lord began to promise aid, +As bound in knighthood to her imposition, +Longing to hear the hateful foe bewrayed. +But she, that yet her sad task hath not said, + The protestation stops: "O, speak," quoth she, + "How may this forced stain be wiped from me? + +"What is the quality of my offense, +Being constrained with dreadful circumstance? +May my pure mind with the foul act dispense, +My low-declined honor to advance? +May any terms acquit me from this chance? + The poisoned fountain clears itself again, + And why not I from this compelled stain?" + +With this they all at once began to say +Her body's stain her mind untainted clears, +While with a joyless smile she turns away +The face, that map which deep impression bears +Of hard misfortune, carved in it with tears. + "No, no," quoth she, "no dame hereafter living + By my excuse shall claim excuse's giving." + +Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break, +She throws forth Tarquin's name: "He, he," she says, +But more than "he" her poor tongue could not speak, +Till after many accents and delays, +Untimely breathings, sick and short assays, + She utters this: "He, he, fair lords, 'tis he + That guides this hand to give this wound to me." + +Even here she sheathed in her harmless breast +A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheathed. +That blow did bail it from the deep unrest +Of that polluted prison where it breathed. +Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeathed + Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly + Life's lasting date from canceled destiny. + +Stone-still, astonished with this deadly deed, +Stood Collatine and all his lordly crew, +Till Lucrece' father, that beholds her bleed, +Himself on her self-slaughtered body threw, +And from the purple fountain Brutus drew + The murd'rous knife, and, as it left the place, + Her blood, in poor revenge, held it in chase; + +And, bubbling from her breast, it doth divide +In two slow rivers, that the crimson blood +Circles her body in on every side, +Who, like a late-sacked island, vastly stood +Bare and unpeopled in this fearful flood. + Some of her blood still pure and red remained, + And some looked black, and that false Tarquin stained. + +About the mourning and congealed face +Of that black blood a wat'ry rigol goes, +Which seems to weep upon the tainted place; +And ever since, as pitying Lucrece' woes, +Corrupted blood some watery token shows, + And blood untainted still doth red abide, + Blushing at that which is so putrefied. + +"Daughter, dear daughter," old Lucretius cries, +"That life was mine which thou hast here deprived. +If in the child the father's image lies, +Where shall I live now Lucrece is unlived? +Thou wast not to this end from me derived. + If children predecease progenitors, + We are their offspring, and they none of ours. + +"Poor broken glass, I often did behold +In thy sweet semblance my old age new born, +But now that fair fresh mirror dim and old +Shows me a bare-boned death by time outworn. +O, from thy cheeks my image thou hast torn, + And shivered all the beauty of my glass, + That I no more can see what once I was! + +"O Time, cease thou thy course and last no longer +If they surcease to be that should survive! +Shall rotten Death make conquest of the stronger +And leave the falt'ring feeble souls alive? +The old bees die, the young possess their hive. + Then, live, sweet Lucrece, live again and see + Thy father die, and not thy father thee." + +By this starts Collatine as from a dream +And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place, +And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream +He falls and bathes the pale fear in his face, +And counterfeits to die with her a space, + Till manly shame bids him possess his breath + And live to be revenged on her death. + +The deep vexation of his inward soul +Hath served a dumb arrest upon his tongue, +Who, mad that sorrow should his use control +Or keep him from heart-easing words so long, +Begins to talk, but through his lips do throng + Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart's aid + That no man could distinguish what he said. + +Yet sometimes "Tarquin" was pronounced plain, +But through his teeth, as if the name he tore. +This windy tempest, till it blow up rain, +Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more. +At last it rains, and busy winds give o'er. + Then son and father weep with equal strife + Who should weep most, for daughter or for wife. + +The one doth call her his, the other his, +Yet neither may possess the claim they lay. +The father says, "She's mine." "O, mine she is," +Replies her husband. "Do not take away +My sorrow's interest. Let no mourner say + He weeps for her, for she was only mine + And only must be wailed by Collatine." + +"O," quoth Lucretius, "I did give that life +Which she too early and too late hath spilled." +"Woe, woe," quoth Collatine, "she was my wife. +I owed her, and 'tis mine that she hath killed." +"My daughter" and "my wife" with clamors filled + The dispersed air, who, holding Lucrece' life, + Answered their cries, "my daughter" and "my wife." + +Brutus, who plucked the knife from Lucrece' side, +Seeing such emulation in their woe, +Began to clothe his wit in state and pride, +Burying in Lucrece' wound his folly's show. +He with the Romans was esteemed so + As silly jeering idiots are with kings, + For sportive words and utt'ring foolish things. + +But now he throws that shallow habit by +Wherein deep policy did him disguise, +And armed his long-hid wits advisedly +To check the tears in Collatinus' eyes: +"Thou wronged lord of Rome," quoth he, "arise! + Let my unsounded self, supposed a fool, + Now set thy long-experienced wit to school. + +"Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe? +Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds? +Is it revenge to give thyself a blow +For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds? +Such childish humor from weak minds proceeds. + Thy wretched wife mistook the matter so + To slay herself, that should have slain her foe. + +"Courageous Roman, do not steep thy heart +In such relenting dew of lamentations, +But kneel with me and help to bear thy part +To rouse our Roman gods with invocations, +That they will suffer these abominations-- + Since Rome herself in them doth stand disgraced-- + By our strong arms from forth her fair streets chased. + +"Now, by the Capitol, that we adore, +And by this chaste blood so unjustly stained, +By heaven's fair sun that breeds the fat earth's store, +By all our country rights in Rome maintained, +And by chaste Lucrece' soul that late complained + Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife, + We will revenge the death of this true wife." + +This said, he struck his hand upon his breast, +And kissed the fatal knife to end his vow, +And to his protestation urged the rest, +Who, wond'ring at him, did his words allow. +Then jointly to the ground their knees they bow, + And that deep vow which Brutus made before + He doth again repeat, and that they swore. + +When they had sworn to this advised doom, +They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence +To show her bleeding body thorough Rome, +And so to publish Tarquin's foul offense; +Which being done with speedy diligence, + The Romans plausibly did give consent + To Tarquin's everlasting banishment. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/datasets/bard/macbeth_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/macbeth_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9bae75a --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/macbeth_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3821 @@ +Macbeth +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/macbeth/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +Three Witches, the Weird Sisters +DUNCAN, king of Scotland +MALCOLM, his elder son +DONALBAIN, Duncan's younger son +MACBETH, thane of Glamis +LADY MACBETH +SEYTON, attendant to Macbeth +Three Murderers in Macbeth's service +Both attending upon Lady Macbeth: + A Doctor + A Gentlewoman +A Porter +BANQUO, commander, with Macbeth, of Duncan's army +FLEANCE, his son +MACDUFF, a Scottish noble +LADY MACDUFF +Their son +Scottish Nobles: + LENNOX + ROSS + ANGUS + MENTEITH + CAITHNESS +SIWARD, commander of the English forces +YOUNG SIWARD, Siward's son +A Captain in Duncan's army +An Old Man +A Doctor at the English court +HECATE +Apparitions: an Armed Head, a Bloody Child, a Crowned Child, and eight nonspeaking kings +Three Messengers, Three Servants, a Lord, a Soldier +Attendants, a Sewer, Servants, Lords, Thanes, Soldiers (all nonspeaking) + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.] + + +FIRST WITCH +When shall we three meet again? +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +SECOND WITCH +When the hurly-burly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +THIRD WITCH +That will be ere the set of sun. + +FIRST WITCH +Where the place? + +SECOND WITCH Upon the heath. + +THIRD WITCH +There to meet with Macbeth. + +FIRST WITCH I come, Graymalkin. + +SECOND WITCH Paddock calls. + +THIRD WITCH Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair; +Hover through the fog and filthy air. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, +Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding +Captain.] + + +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM This is the sergeant +Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought +'Gainst my captivity.--Hail, brave friend! +Say to the King the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +CAPTAIN Doubtful it stood, +As two spent swimmers that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald +(Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villainies of nature +Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Showed like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak; +For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name), +Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like Valor's minion, carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops, +And fixed his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin, worthy gentleman! + +CAPTAIN +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seemed to +come +Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had, with valor armed, +Compelled these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, +With furbished arms and new supplies of men, +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismayed not this our captains, Macbeth and +Banquo? + +CAPTAIN +Yes, as sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, +So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe. +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds +Or memorize another Golgotha, +I cannot tell-- +But I am faint. My gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds: +They smack of honor both.--Go, get him surgeons. +[The Captain is led off by Attendants.] + +[Enter Ross and Angus.] + +Who comes here? + +MALCOLM The worthy Thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! +So should he look that seems to speak things +strange. + +ROSS God save the King. + +DUNCAN Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS From Fife, great king, +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. +Norway himself, with terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor, +The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict, +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapped in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point, rebellious arm 'gainst arm, +Curbing his lavish spirit. And to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN Great happiness! + +ROSS That now Sweno, +The Norways' king, craves composition. +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's Inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest. Go, pronounce his present +death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.] + + +FIRST WITCH Where hast thou been, sister? + +SECOND WITCH Killing swine. + +THIRD WITCH Sister, where thou? + +FIRST WITCH +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap +And munched and munched and munched. "Give +me," quoth I. +"Aroint thee, witch," the rump-fed runnion cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' th' Tiger; +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +SECOND WITCH +I'll give thee a wind. + +FIRST WITCH +Th' art kind. + +THIRD WITCH +And I another. + +FIRST WITCH +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow; +All the quarters that they know +I' th' shipman's card. +I'll drain him dry as hay. +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his penthouse lid. +He shall live a man forbid. +Weary sev'nnights, nine times nine, +Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine. +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tossed. +Look what I have. + +SECOND WITCH Show me, show me. + +FIRST WITCH +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wracked as homeward he did come. [Drum within.] + +THIRD WITCH +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL, [dancing in a circle] +The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about, +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace, the charm's wound up. + +[Enter Macbeth and Banquo.] + + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is 't called to Forres?--What are these, +So withered, and so wild in their attire, +That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' Earth +And yet are on 't?--Live you? Or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand +me +By each at once her choppy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips. You should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH Speak if you can. What are you? + +FIRST WITCH +All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! + +SECOND WITCH +All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! + +THIRD WITCH +All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair?--I' th' name of truth, +Are you fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly you show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favors nor your hate. + +FIRST WITCH Hail! + +SECOND WITCH Hail! + +THIRD WITCH Hail! + +FIRST WITCH +Lesser than Macbeth and greater. + +SECOND WITCH +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +THIRD WITCH +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +FIRST WITCH +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers. Tell me more. +By Sinel's death I know I am Thane of Glamis. +But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives +A prosperous gentleman, and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting. Speak, I charge you. +[Witches vanish.] + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanished? + +MACBETH +Into the air, and what seemed corporal melted, +As breath into the wind. Would they had stayed! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so? + +BANQUO +To th' selfsame tune and words.--Who's here? + +[Enter Ross and Angus.] + + +ROSS +The King hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success, and, when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his. Silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' th' selfsame day +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as tale +Came post with post, and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defense, +And poured them down before him. + +ANGUS We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks, +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And for an earnest of a greater honor, +He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor, +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane, +For it is thine. + +BANQUO What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me +In borrowed robes? + +ANGUS Who was the Thane lives yet, +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was +combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labored in his country's wrack, I know not; +But treasons capital, confessed and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH, [aside] Glamis and Thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus.] Thanks +for your pains. +[Aside to Banquo.] Do you not hope your children +shall be kings, +When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO That, trusted home, +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange. +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's +In deepest consequence.-- +Cousins, a word, I pray you. [They step aside.] + +MACBETH, [aside] Two truths are told +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. +[Aside.] This supernatural soliciting +Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success +Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor. +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings. +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man +That function is smothered in surmise, +And nothing is but what is not. + +BANQUO Look how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH, [aside] +If chance will have me king, why, chance may +crown me +Without my stir. + +BANQUO New honors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mold +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH, [aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favor. My dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are registered where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the King. +[Aside to Banquo.] Think upon what hath chanced, +and at more time, +The interim having weighed it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO Very gladly. + +MACBETH Till then, enough.--Come, friends. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Duncan, Lennox, Malcolm, +Donalbain, and Attendants.] + + +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet returned? + +MALCOLM My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die, who did report +That very frankly he confessed his treasons, +Implored your Highness' pardon, and set forth +A deep repentance. Nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it. He died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face. +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +[Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus.] + +O worthiest cousin, +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! Only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe +In doing it pays itself. Your Highness' part +Is to receive our duties, and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should by doing everything +Safe toward your love and honor. + +DUNCAN Welcome hither. +I have begun to plant thee and will labor +To make thee full of growing.--Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO There, if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow.--Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honor must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers.--From hence to Inverness +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labor which is not used for you. +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach. +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN My worthy Cawdor. + +MACBETH, [aside] +The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step +On which I must fall down or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires. +The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. +[He exits.] + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo. He is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed: +It is a banquet to me.--Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome. +It is a peerless kinsman. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Macbeth's Wife, alone, with a letter.] + + +LADY MACBETH, [reading the letter] They met me in the +day of success, and I have learned by the perfect'st +report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. +When I burned in desire to question them further, they +made themselves air, into which they vanished. +Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it came missives +from the King, who all-hailed me "Thane of Cawdor," +by which title, before, these Weird Sisters saluted me +and referred me to the coming on of time with "Hail, +king that shalt be." This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing by being ignorant +of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy +heart, and farewell. +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be +What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great, +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst +highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false +And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou 'dst have, great +Glamis, +That which cries "Thus thou must do," if thou have +it, +And that which rather thou dost fear to do, +Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear +And chastise with the valor of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crowned withal. + +[Enter Messenger.] + +What is your tidings? + +MESSENGER +The King comes here tonight. + +LADY MACBETH Thou 'rt mad to say it. +Is not thy master with him, who, were 't so, +Would have informed for preparation? + +MESSENGER +So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming. +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH Give him tending. +He brings great news. [Messenger exits.] +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood. +Stop up th' access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts +And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief. Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark +To cry "Hold, hold!" + +[Enter Macbeth.] + +Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor, +Greater than both by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH My dearest love, +Duncan comes here tonight. + +LADY MACBETH And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +Tomorrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue. Look like th' innocent +flower, +But be the serpent under 't. He that's coming +Must be provided for; and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch, +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH Only look up clear. +To alter favor ever is to fear. +Leave all the rest to me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Hautboys and Torches. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, +Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and +Attendants.] + + +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle. +Where they most breed and haunt, I have +observed, +The air is delicate. + +[Enter Lady Macbeth.] + + +DUNCAN See, see our honored hostess!-- +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH All our service, +In every point twice done and then done double, +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honors deep and broad wherewith +Your Majesty loads our house. For those of old, +And the late dignities heaped up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN Where's the Thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose +To be his purveyor; but he rides well, +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath helped +him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest tonight. + +LADY MACBETH Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs in compt +To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN Give me your hand. + +[Taking her hand.] +Conduct me to mine host. We love him highly +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Hautboys. Torches. Enter a Sewer and divers Servants +with dishes and service over the stage. Then enter +Macbeth.] + + +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly. If th' assassination +Could trammel up the consequence and catch +With his surcease success, that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here, that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague th' inventor. This even-handed justice +Commends th' ingredience of our poisoned chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust: +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked newborn babe +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on th' other-- + +[Enter Lady Macbeth.] + +How now, what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supped. Why have you left the +chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he asked for me? + +LADY MACBETH Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business. +He hath honored me of late, and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valor +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," +Like the poor cat i' th' adage? + +MACBETH Prithee, peace. +I dare do all that may become a man. +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH What beast was 't, +then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both. +They have made themselves, and that their fitness +now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me. +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums +And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH If we should fail-- + +LADY MACBETH We fail? +But screw your courage to the sticking place +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep +(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only. When in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lies as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +Th' unguarded Duncan? What not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH Bring forth men-children only, +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have marked with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done 't? + +LADY MACBETH Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH I am settled and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show. +False face must hide what the false heart doth +know. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him.] + + +BANQUO How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down. I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE I take 't 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. [He gives his sword to Fleance.] +There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose. + +[Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch.] + +Give me my sword.--Who's +there? + +MACBETH A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's abed. +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up +In measureless content. +[He gives Macbeth a jewel.] + +MACBETH Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect, +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three Weird Sisters. +To you they have showed some truth. + +MACBETH I think not of +them. +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that +business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honor for you. + +BANQUO So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counseled. + +MACBETH Good repose the while. + +BANQUO Thanks, sir. The like to you. +[Banquo and Fleance exit.] + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. +[Servant exits.] +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch +thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. [He draws his dagger.] +Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going, +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses +Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still, +And, on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing. +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one-half world +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtained sleep. Witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's off'rings, and withered murder, +Alarumed by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his +design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabouts +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives. +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. +[A bell rings.] +I go, and it is done. The bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lady Macbeth.] + + +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me +bold. +What hath quenched them hath given me fire. +Hark!--Peace. +It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it. +The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores. I have drugged +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH, [within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. Th' attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark!--I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done 't. + +[Enter Macbeth with bloody daggers.] + +My husband? + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH When? + +LADY MACBETH Now. + +MACBETH As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH Ay. + +MACBETH Hark!--Who lies i' th' second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH Donalbain. + +MACBETH This is a sorry sight. + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in 's sleep, and one cried +"Murder!" +That they did wake each other. I stood and heard +them. +But they did say their prayers and addressed them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried "God bless us" and "Amen" the other, +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands, +List'ning their fear. I could not say "Amen" +When they did say "God bless us." + +LADY MACBETH Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce "Amen"? +I had most need of blessing, and "Amen" +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep"--the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast. + +LADY MACBETH What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried "Sleep no more!" to all the house. +"Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore +Cawdor +Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more." + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water +And wash this filthy witness from your hand.-- +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there. Go, carry them and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH I'll go no more. +I am afraid to think what I have done. +Look on 't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, +For it must seem their guilt. +[She exits with the daggers. Knock within.] + +MACBETH Whence is that +knocking? +How is 't with me when every noise appalls me? +What hands are here! Ha, they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +[Enter Lady Macbeth.] + + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your color, but I shame +To wear a heart so white. [Knock.] +I hear a knocking +At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber. +A little water clears us of this deed. +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. [Knock.] +Hark, more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed 'twere best not know myself. +[Knock.] +Wake Duncan with thy knocking. I would thou +couldst. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Knocking within. Enter a Porter.] + + +PORTER Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were +porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the +key. [(Knock.)] Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i' +th' name of Beelzebub? Here's a farmer that hanged +himself on th' expectation of plenty. Come in time! +Have napkins enough about you; here you'll sweat +for 't. [(Knock.)] Knock, knock! Who's there, in th' +other devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator +that could swear in both the scales against either +scale, who committed treason enough for God's +sake yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, +equivocator. [(Knock.)] Knock, knock, knock! Who's +there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither for +stealing out of a French hose. Come in, tailor. Here +you may roast your goose. [(Knock.)] Knock, knock! +Never at quiet.--What are you?--But this place is +too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further. I had +thought to have let in some of all professions that go +the primrose way to th' everlasting bonfire. [(Knock.)] +Anon, anon! + +[The Porter opens the door to Macduff and Lennox.] + +I pray you, remember the porter. + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed +That you do lie so late? + +PORTER Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second +cock, and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three +things. + +MACDUFF What three things does drink especially +provoke? + +PORTER Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. +Lechery, sir, it provokes and unprovokes. It provokes +the desire, but it takes away the performance. +Therefore much drink may be said to be an +equivocator with lechery. It makes him, and it +mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it +persuades him and disheartens him; makes him +stand to and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates +him in a sleep and, giving him the lie, leaves +him. + +MACDUFF I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +PORTER That it did, sir, i' th' very throat on me; but I +requited him for his lie, and, I think, being too +strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, +yet I made a shift to cast him. + +MACDUFF Is thy master stirring? + +[Enter Macbeth.] + +Our knocking has awaked him. Here he comes. +[Porter exits.] + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the King stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him. +I have almost slipped the hour. + +MACBETH I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you, +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labor we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. [Macduff exits.] + +LENNOX Goes the King hence today? + +MACBETH He does. He did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly. Where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' th' air, strange screams of +death, +And prophesying, with accents terrible, +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatched to th' woeful time. The obscure bird +Clamored the livelong night. Some say the Earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH 'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +[Enter Macduff.] + + +MACDUFF O horror, horror, horror! +Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH AND LENNOX What's the matter? + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple and stole thence +The life o' th' building. + +MACBETH What is 't you say? The life? + +LENNOX Mean you his Majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak. +See and then speak yourselves. +[Macbeth and Lennox exit.] +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum bell.--Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain, Malcolm, awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself. Up, up, and see +The great doom's image. Malcolm, Banquo, +As from your graves rise up and walk like sprites +To countenance this horror.--Ring the bell. +[Bell rings.] + +[Enter Lady Macbeth.] + + +LADY MACBETH What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak! + +MACDUFF O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak. +The repetition in a woman's ear +Would murder as it fell. + +[Enter Banquo.] + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master's murdered. + +LADY MACBETH Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO Too cruel anywhere.-- +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself +And say it is not so. + +[Enter Macbeth, Lennox, and Ross.] + + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant +There's nothing serious in mortality. +All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead. +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +[Enter Malcolm and Donalbain.] + + +DONALBAIN What is amiss? + +MACBETH You are, and do not know 't. +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopped; the very source of it is stopped. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father's murdered. + +MALCOLM O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seemed, had done 't. +Their hands and faces were all badged with blood. +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows. They stared and were distracted. +No man's life was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temp'rate, and furious, +Loyal, and neutral, in a moment? No man. +Th' expedition of my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood, +And his gashed stabs looked like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance; there the murderers, +Steeped in the colors of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breeched with gore. Who could refrain +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love known? + +LADY MACBETH Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM, [aside to Donalbain] Why do we hold our +tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN, [aside to Malcolm] +What should be spoken here, where our fate, +Hid in an auger hole, may rush and seize us? +Let's away. Our tears are not yet brewed. + +MALCOLM, [aside to Donalbain] +Nor our strong sorrow upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO Look to the lady. +[Lady Macbeth is assisted to leave.] +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet +And question this most bloody piece of work +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us. +In the great hand of God I stand, and thence +Against the undivulged pretense I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF And so do I. + +ALL So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness +And meet i' th' hall together. + +ALL Well contented. +[All but Malcolm and Donalbain exit.] + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them. +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland I. Our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles. The near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse, +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking +But shift away. There's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself when there's no mercy left. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Ross with an Old Man.] + + +OLD MAN +Threescore and ten I can remember well, +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange, but this sore +night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS Ha, good father, +Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threatens his bloody stage. By th' clock 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp. +Is 't night's predominance or the day's shame +That darkness does the face of earth entomb +When living light should kiss it? + +OLD MAN 'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last +A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses (a thing most strange and +certain), +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turned wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would +Make war with mankind. + +OLD MAN 'Tis said they eat each +other. + +ROSS +They did so, to th' amazement of mine eyes +That looked upon 't. + +[Enter Macduff.] + +Here comes the good +Macduff.-- +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is 't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS Alas the day, +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF They were suborned. +Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled, which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS 'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up +Thine own lives' means. Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu, +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new. + +ROSS Farewell, father. + +OLD MAN +God's benison go with you and with those +That would make good of bad and friends of foes. +[All exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Banquo.] + + +BANQUO +Thou hast it now--king, Cawdor, Glamis, all +As the Weird Women promised, and I fear +Thou played'st most foully for 't. Yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them +(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine) +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush, no more. + +[Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady +Macbeth, Lennox, Ross, Lords, and Attendants.] + + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO Let your Highness +Command upon me, to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +Forever knit. + +MACBETH Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice +(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous) +In this day's council, but we'll take tomorrow. +Is 't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper. Go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear our bloody cousins are bestowed +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention. But of that tomorrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse. Adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. Our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot, +And so I do commend you to their backs. +Farewell. [Banquo exits.] +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night. To make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till suppertime alone. While then, God be with you. +[Lords and all but Macbeth and a Servant exit.] +Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men +Our pleasure? + +SERVANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. [Servant exits.] +To be thus is nothing, +But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be feared. 'Tis much he +dares, +And to that dauntless temper of his mind +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear; and under him +My genius is rebuked, as it is said +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me +And bade them speak to him. Then, prophet-like, +They hailed him father to a line of kings. +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown +And put a barren scepter in my grip, +Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered, +Put rancors in the vessel of my peace +Only for them, and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man +To make them kings, the seeds of Banquo kings. +Rather than so, come fate into the list, +And champion me to th' utterance.--Who's there? + +[Enter Servant and two Murderers.] + +[To the Servant.] Now go to the door, and stay there +till we call. [Servant exits.] +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +MURDERERS +It was, so please your Highness. + +MACBETH Well then, now +Have you considered of my speeches? Know +That it was he, in the times past, which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self. This I made good to you +In our last conference, passed in probation with you +How you were borne in hand, how crossed, the +instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that +might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say "Thus did Banquo." + +FIRST MURDERER You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospeled +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bowed you to the grave +And beggared yours forever? + +FIRST MURDERER We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue you go for men, +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, +curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept +All by the name of dogs. The valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition, from the bill +That writes them all alike. And so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' th' worst rank of manhood, say 't, +And I will put that business in your bosoms +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +SECOND MURDERER I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Hath so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +FIRST MURDERER And I another +So weary with disasters, tugged with fortune, +That I would set my life on any chance, +To mend it or be rid on 't. + +MACBETH Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +MURDERERS True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine, and in such bloody distance +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life. And though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down. And thence it is +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +SECOND MURDERER We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +FIRST MURDERER Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at +most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves, +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' th' time, +The moment on 't, for 't must be done tonight +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness. And with him +(To leave no rubs nor botches in the work) +Fleance, his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart. +I'll come to you anon. + +MURDERERS We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight. Abide within. +[Murderers exit.] +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out tonight. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Macbeth's Lady and a Servant.] + + +LADY MACBETH Is Banquo gone from court? + +SERVANT +Ay, madam, but returns again tonight. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the King I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +SERVANT Madam, I will. [He exits.] + +LADY MACBETH Naught's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content. +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +[Enter Macbeth.] + +How now, my lord, why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard. What's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scorched the snake, not killed it. +She'll close and be herself whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds +suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave. +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. +Treason has done his worst; nor steel nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH Come on, gentle my lord, +Sleek o'er your rugged looks. Be bright and jovial +Among your guests tonight. + +MACBETH So shall I, love, +And so I pray be you. Let your remembrance +Apply to Banquo; present him eminence +Both with eye and tongue: unsafe the while that we +Must lave our honors in these flattering streams +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo and his Fleance lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable. +Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown +His cloistered flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-born beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed.--Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow +Makes wing to th' rooky wood. +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, +Whiles night's black agents to their preys do +rouse.-- +Thou marvel'st at my words, but hold thee still. +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So prithee go with me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter three Murderers.] + + +FIRST MURDERER +But who did bid thee join with us? + +THIRD MURDERER Macbeth. + +SECOND MURDERER, [to the First Murderer] +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +FIRST MURDERER Then stand with us.-- +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day. +Now spurs the lated traveler apace +To gain the timely inn, and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +THIRD MURDERER Hark, I hear horses. + +BANQUO, [within] Give us a light there, ho! + +SECOND MURDERER Then 'tis he. The rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' th' court. + +FIRST MURDERER His horses go about. + +THIRD MURDERER +Almost a mile; but he does usually +(So all men do) from hence to th' palace gate +Make it their walk. + +[Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a torch.] + + +SECOND MURDERER A light, a light! + +THIRD MURDERER 'Tis he. + +FIRST MURDERER Stand to 't. + +BANQUO, [to Fleance] It will be rain tonight. + +FIRST MURDERER Let it come down! +[The three Murderers attack.] + +BANQUO +O treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge--O slave! +[He dies. Fleance exits.] + +THIRD MURDERER +Who did strike out the light? + +FIRST MURDERER Was 't not the way? + +THIRD MURDERER There's but one down. The son is +fled. + +SECOND MURDERER We have lost best half of our +affair. + +FIRST MURDERER +Well, let's away and say how much is done. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, +Ross, Lennox, Lords, and Attendants.] + + +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down. At first +And last, the hearty welcome. [They sit.] + +LORDS Thanks to your Majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends, +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +[Enter First Murderer to the door.] + + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even. Here I'll sit i' th' midst. +Be large in mirth. Anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. [He approaches the Murderer.] There's +blood upon thy face. + +MURDERER 'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatched? + +MURDERER +My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' th' cutthroats, +Yet he's good that did the like for Fleance. +If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil. + +MURDERER +Most royal sir, Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH, [aside] +Then comes my fit again. I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air. +But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears.--But Banquo's safe? + +MURDERER +Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head, +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH Thanks for that. +There the grown serpent lies. The worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone. Tomorrow +We'll hear ourselves again. [Murderer exits.] + +LADY MACBETH My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer. The feast is sold +That is not often vouched, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home; +From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +[Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeth's place.] + + +MACBETH, [to Lady Macbeth] Sweet remembrancer!-- +Now, good digestion wait on appetite +And health on both! + +LENNOX May 't please your Highness sit. + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honor roofed, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present, +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance. + +ROSS His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please 't your +Highness +To grace us with your royal company? + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is 't that moves your +Highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +LORDS What, my good lord? + +MACBETH, [to the Ghost] +Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise. His Highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thus +And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat. +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well. If much you note him +You shall offend him and extend his passion. +Feed and regard him not. [Drawing Macbeth aside.] +Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appall the devil. + +LADY MACBETH O, proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear. +This is the air-drawn dagger which you said +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there. Behold, look! [To the Ghost.] Lo, +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.-- +If charnel houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. [Ghost exits.] + +LADY MACBETH What, quite unmanned in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time, +Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been performed +Too terrible for the ear. The time has been +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end. But now they rise again +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns +And push us from our stools. This is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH I do forget.-- +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends. +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to +all. +Then I'll sit down.--Give me some wine. Fill full. + +[Enter Ghost.] + +I drink to th' general joy o' th' whole table +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss. +Would he were here! To all, and him we thirst, +And all to all. + +LORDS Our duties, and the pledge. +[They raise their drinking cups.] + +MACBETH, [to the Ghost] +Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee. +Thy bones are marrowless; thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with. + +LADY MACBETH Think of this, good +peers, +But as a thing of custom. 'Tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH, [to the Ghost] What man dare, I dare. +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The armed rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble. Or be alive again +And dare me to the desert with thy sword. +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mock'ry, hence! [Ghost exits.] +Why so, being gone, +I am a man again.--Pray you sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good +meeting +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH Can such things be +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe +When now I think you can behold such sights +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS What sights, my +lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not. He grows worse and worse. +Question enrages him. At once, good night. +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX Good night, and better health +Attend his Majesty. + +LADY MACBETH A kind good night to all. +[Lords and all but Macbeth and Lady Macbeth exit.] + +MACBETH +It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood. +Stones have been known to move, and trees to +speak. +Augurs and understood relations have +By maggot pies and choughs and rooks brought +forth +The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send. +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will tomorrow +(And betimes I will) to the Weird Sisters. +More shall they speak, for now I am bent to know +By the worst means the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way. I am in blood +Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er. +Strange things I have in head that will to hand, +Which must be acted ere they may be scanned. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use. +We are yet but young in deed. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.] + + +FIRST WITCH +Why, how now, Hecate? You look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are? +Saucy and overbold, how did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death, +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never called to bear my part +Or show the glory of our art? +And which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now. Get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' th' morning. Thither he +Will come to know his destiny. +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and everything beside. +I am for th' air. This night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end. +Great business must be wrought ere noon. +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vap'rous drop profound. +I'll catch it ere it come to ground, +And that, distilled by magic sleights, +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion. +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear. +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. +[Music and a song.] +Hark! I am called. My little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me. [Hecate exits.] +[Sing within "Come away, come away," etc.] + +FIRST WITCH +Come, let's make haste. She'll soon be back again. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Lennox and another Lord.] + + +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret farther. Only I say +Things have been strangely borne. The gracious +Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth; marry, he was dead. +And the right valiant Banquo walked too late, +Whom you may say, if 't please you, Fleance killed, +For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? Damned fact, +How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely, too, +For 'twould have angered any heart alive +To hear the men deny 't. So that I say +He has borne all things well. And I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key +(As, an 't please heaven, he shall not) they should +find +What 'twere to kill a father. So should Fleance. +But peace. For from broad words, and 'cause he +failed +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +LORD The son of Duncan +(From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth) +Lives in the English court and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward +That, by the help of these (with Him above +To ratify the work), we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage, and receive free honors, +All which we pine for now. And this report +Hath so exasperate the King that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX Sent he to Macduff? + +LORD +He did, and with an absolute "Sir, not I," +The cloudy messenger turns me his back +And hums, as who should say "You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer." + +LENNOX And that well might +Advise him to a caution t' hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed. + +LORD I'll send my prayers with him. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.] + + +FIRST WITCH +Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed. + +SECOND WITCH +Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whined. + +THIRD WITCH +Harpier cries "'Tis time, 'tis time!" + +FIRST WITCH +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poisoned entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Sweltered venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' th' charmed pot. +[The Witches circle the cauldron.] + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +SECOND WITCH +Fillet of a fenny snake +In the cauldron boil and bake. +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blindworm's sting, +Lizard's leg and howlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +THIRD WITCH +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witch's mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravined salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digged i' th' dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat and slips of yew +Slivered in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-delivered by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab. +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron +For th' ingredience of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +SECOND WITCH +Cool it with a baboon's blood. +Then the charm is firm and good. + +[Enter Hecate to the other three Witches.] + + +HECATE +O, well done! I commend your pains, +And everyone shall share i' th' gains. +And now about the cauldron sing +Like elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. +[Music and a song: "Black Spirits," etc. Hecate exits.] + +SECOND WITCH +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks. + +[Enter Macbeth.] + + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags? +What is 't you do? + +ALL A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you by that which you profess +(Howe'er you come to know it), answer me. +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches, though the yeasty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up, +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown +down, +Though castles topple on their warders' heads, +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations, though the +treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together +Even till destruction sicken, answer me +To what I ask you. + +FIRST WITCH Speak. + +SECOND WITCH Demand. + +THIRD WITCH We'll answer. + +FIRST WITCH +Say if th' hadst rather hear it from our mouths +Or from our masters'. + +MACBETH Call 'em. Let me see 'em. + +FIRST WITCH +Pour in sow's blood that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderers' gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL Come high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show. + +[Thunder. First Apparition, an Armed Head.] + + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power-- + +FIRST WITCH He knows thy +thought. +Hear his speech but say thou naught. + +FIRST APPARITION +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff! +Beware the Thane of Fife! Dismiss me. Enough. +[He descends.] + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks. +Thou hast harped my fear aright. But one word +more-- + +FIRST WITCH +He will not be commanded. Here's another +More potent than the first. + +[Thunder. Second Apparition, a Bloody Child.] + + +SECOND APPARITION Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!-- + +MACBETH Had I three ears, I'd hear thee. + +SECOND APPARITION +Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. [He descends.] + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff; what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure +And take a bond of fate. Thou shalt not live, +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +[Thunder. Third Apparition, a Child Crowned, with a tree +in his hand.] + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king +And wears upon his baby brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL Listen but speak not to 't. + +THIRD APPARITION +Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are. +Macbeth shall never vanquished be until +Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill +Shall come against him. [He descends.] + +MACBETH That will never be. +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earthbound root? Sweet bodements, good! +Rebellious dead, rise never till the Wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied. Deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know! +[Cauldron sinks. Hautboys.] +Why sinks that cauldron? And what noise is this? + +FIRST WITCH Show. + +SECOND WITCH Show. + +THIRD WITCH Show. + +ALL +Show his eyes and grieve his heart. +Come like shadows; so depart. + +[A show of eight kings, the eighth king with a glass in +his hand, and Banquo last.] + + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo. Down! +Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former.--Filthy hags, +Why do you show me this?--A fourth? Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to th' crack of doom? +Another yet? A seventh? I'll see no more. +And yet the eighth appears who bears a glass +Which shows me many more, and some I see +That twofold balls and treble scepters carry. +Horrible sight! Now I see 'tis true, +For the blood-boltered Banquo smiles upon me +And points at them for his. +[The Apparitions disappear.] +What, is this so? + +FIRST WITCH +Ay, sir, all this is so. But why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites +And show the best of our delights. +I'll charm the air to give a sound +While you perform your antic round, +That this great king may kindly say +Our duties did his welcome pay. +[Music. The Witches dance and vanish.] + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar!-- +Come in, without there. + +[Enter Lennox.] + + +LENNOX What's your Grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the Weird Sisters? + +LENNOX No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride, +And damned all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse. Who was 't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH Fled to England? + +LENNOX Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH, [aside] +Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits. +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it. From this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and +done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise, +Seize upon Fife, give to th' edge o' th' sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come bring me where they are. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Macduff's Wife, her Son, and Ross.] + + +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF He had none. +His flight was madness. When our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom? To leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear, and nothing is the love, +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS My dearest coz, +I pray you school yourself. But for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' th' season. I dare not speak much +further; +But cruel are the times when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumor +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move--I take my leave of you. +Shall not be long but I'll be here again. +Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward +To what they were before.--My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you. + +LADY MACDUFF +Fathered he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort. +I take my leave at once. [Ross exits.] + +LADY MACDUFF Sirrah, your father's dead. +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +SON +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF What, with worms and flies? + +SON +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird, thou 'dst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +SON +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set +for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for a father? + +SON Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +SON Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF Thou speak'st with all thy wit, +And yet, i' faith, with wit enough for thee. + +SON Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF Ay, that he was. + +SON What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF Why, one that swears and lies. + +SON And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF Every one that does so is a traitor +and must be hanged. + +SON And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF Every one. + +SON Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF Why, the honest men. + +SON Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there +are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest +men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF Now God help thee, poor monkey! But +how wilt thou do for a father? + +SON If he were dead, you'd weep for him. If you would +not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a +new father. + +LADY MACDUFF Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Bless you, fair dame. I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honor I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly. +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here. Hence with your little ones! +To fright you thus methinks I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve +you! +I dare abide no longer. [Messenger exits.] + +LADY MACDUFF Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world, where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly. Why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defense +To say I have done no harm? + +[Enter Murderers.] + +What are these faces? + +MURDERER Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +MURDERER He's a traitor. + +SON +Thou liest, thou shag-eared villain! + +MURDERER What, you egg? +[Stabbing him.] Young fry of treachery! + +SON He has killed +me, mother. +Run away, I pray you. +[Lady Macduff exits, crying "Murder!" followed by the +Murderers bearing the Son's body.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Malcolm and Macduff.] + + +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword and, like good men, +Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland, and yelled out +Like syllable of dolor. + +MALCOLM What I believe, I'll wail; +What know, believe; and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest. You have loved him well. +He hath not touched you yet. I am young, but +something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb +T' appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your +pardon. +That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose. +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. +Though all things foul would wear the brows of +grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonors, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not check thee. Wear thou thy +wrongs; +The title is affeered.--Fare thee well, lord. +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM Be not offended. +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke. +It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds. I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands. But, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean, in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be opened, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damned +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name. But there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness. Your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons, and your maids could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny. It hath been +Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours. You may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty +And yet seem cold--the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough. There cannot be +That vulture in you to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels, and this other's house; +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more, that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +MACDUFF This avarice +Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root +Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been +The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear. +Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will +Of your mere own. All these are portable, +With other graces weighed. + +MALCOLM +But I have none. The king-becoming graces, +As justice, verity, temp'rance, stableness, +Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, +Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, +I have no relish of them but abound +In the division of each several crime, +Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should +Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, +Uproar the universal peace, confound +All unity on earth. + +MACDUFF O Scotland, Scotland! + +MALCOLM +If such a one be fit to govern, speak. +I am as I have spoken. + +MACDUFF Fit to govern? +No, not to live.--O nation miserable, +With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered, +When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, +Since that the truest issue of thy throne +By his own interdiction stands accursed +And does blaspheme his breed?--Thy royal father +Was a most sainted king. The queen that bore thee, +Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet, +Died every day she lived. Fare thee well. +These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself +Hath banished me from Scotland.--O my breast, +Thy hope ends here! + +MALCOLM Macduff, this noble passion, +Child of integrity, hath from my soul +Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts +To thy good truth and honor. Devilish Macbeth +By many of these trains hath sought to win me +Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me +From overcredulous haste. But God above +Deal between thee and me, for even now +I put myself to thy direction and +Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure +The taints and blames I laid upon myself +For strangers to my nature. I am yet +Unknown to woman, never was forsworn, +Scarcely have coveted what was mine own, +At no time broke my faith, would not betray +The devil to his fellow, and delight +No less in truth than life. My first false speaking +Was this upon myself. What I am truly +Is thine and my poor country's to command-- +Whither indeed, before thy here-approach, +Old Siward with ten thousand warlike men, +Already at a point, was setting forth. +Now we'll together, and the chance of goodness +Be like our warranted quarrel. Why are you silent? + +MACDUFF +Such welcome and unwelcome things at once +'Tis hard to reconcile. + +[Enter a Doctor.] + + +MALCOLM Well, more anon.-- +Comes the King forth, I pray you? + +DOCTOR +Ay, sir. There are a crew of wretched souls +That stay his cure. Their malady convinces +The great assay of art, but at his touch +(Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand) +They presently amend. + +MALCOLM I thank you, doctor. +[Doctor exits.] + +MACDUFF +What's the disease he means? + +MALCOLM 'Tis called the evil: +A most miraculous work in this good king, +Which often since my here-remain in England +I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven +Himself best knows, but strangely visited people +All swoll'n and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, +The mere despair of surgery, he cures, +Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, +Put on with holy prayers; and, 'tis spoken, +To the succeeding royalty he leaves +The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, +He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, +And sundry blessings hang about his throne +That speak him full of grace. + +[Enter Ross.] + + +MACDUFF See who comes here. + +MALCOLM +My countryman, but yet I know him not. + +MACDUFF +My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. + +MALCOLM +I know him now.--Good God betimes remove +The means that makes us strangers! + +ROSS Sir, amen. + +MACDUFF +Stands Scotland where it did? + +ROSS Alas, poor country, +Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot +Be called our mother, but our grave, where nothing +But who knows nothing is once seen to smile; +Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rent the air +Are made, not marked; where violent sorrow seems +A modern ecstasy. The dead man's knell +Is there scarce asked for who, and good men's lives +Expire before the flowers in their caps, +Dying or ere they sicken. + +MACDUFF +O relation too nice and yet too true! + +MALCOLM What's the newest grief? + +ROSS +That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker. +Each minute teems a new one. + +MACDUFF How does my wife? + +ROSS Why, well. + +MACDUFF And all my children? + +ROSS Well too. + +MACDUFF +The tyrant has not battered at their peace? + +ROSS +No, they were well at peace when I did leave 'em. + +MACDUFF +Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes 't? + +ROSS +When I came hither to transport the tidings +Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumor +Of many worthy fellows that were out; +Which was to my belief witnessed the rather +For that I saw the tyrant's power afoot. +Now is the time of help. Your eye in Scotland +Would create soldiers, make our women fight +To doff their dire distresses. + +MALCOLM Be 't their comfort +We are coming thither. Gracious England hath +Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men; +An older and a better soldier none +That Christendom gives out. + +ROSS Would I could answer +This comfort with the like. But I have words +That would be howled out in the desert air, +Where hearing should not latch them. + +MACDUFF What concern +they-- +The general cause, or is it a fee-grief +Due to some single breast? + +ROSS No mind that's honest +But in it shares some woe, though the main part +Pertains to you alone. + +MACDUFF If it be mine, +Keep it not from me. Quickly let me have it. + +ROSS +Let not your ears despise my tongue forever, +Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound +That ever yet they heard. + +MACDUFF Hum! I guess at it. + +ROSS +Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes +Savagely slaughtered. To relate the manner +Were on the quarry of these murdered deer +To add the death of you. + +MALCOLM Merciful heaven!-- +What, man, ne'er pull your hat upon your brows. +Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak +Whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break. + +MACDUFF My children too? + +ROSS +Wife, children, servants, all that could be found. + +MACDUFF +And I must be from thence? My wife killed too? + +ROSS I have said. + +MALCOLM Be comforted. +Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge +To cure this deadly grief. + +MACDUFF +He has no children. All my pretty ones? +Did you say "all"? O hell-kite! All? +What, all my pretty chickens and their dam +At one fell swoop? + +MALCOLM Dispute it like a man. + +MACDUFF I shall do so, +But I must also feel it as a man. +I cannot but remember such things were +That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on +And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, +They were all struck for thee! Naught that I am, +Not for their own demerits, but for mine, +Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now. + +MALCOLM +Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief +Convert to anger. Blunt not the heart; enrage it. + +MACDUFF +O, I could play the woman with mine eyes +And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens, +Cut short all intermission! Front to front +Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself. +Within my sword's length set him. If he 'scape, +Heaven forgive him too. + +MALCOLM This tune goes manly. +Come, go we to the King. Our power is ready; +Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth +Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above +Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you +may. +The night is long that never finds the day. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman.] + + +DOCTOR I have two nights watched with you but can +perceive no truth in your report. When was it she +last walked? + +GENTLEWOMAN Since his Majesty went into the field, I +have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown +upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, +fold it, write upon 't, read it, afterwards seal it, and +again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast +sleep. + +DOCTOR A great perturbation in nature, to receive at +once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of +watching. In this slumb'ry agitation, besides her +walking and other actual performances, what at any +time have you heard her say? + +GENTLEWOMAN That, sir, which I will not report after +her. + +DOCTOR You may to me, and 'tis most meet you +should. + +GENTLEWOMAN Neither to you nor anyone, having no +witness to confirm my speech. + +[Enter Lady Macbeth with a taper.] + +Lo you, here she comes. This is her very guise and, +upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close. + +DOCTOR How came she by that light? + +GENTLEWOMAN Why, it stood by her. She has light by +her continually. 'Tis her command. + +DOCTOR You see her eyes are open. + +GENTLEWOMAN Ay, but their sense are shut. + +DOCTOR What is it she does now? Look how she rubs +her hands. + +GENTLEWOMAN It is an accustomed action with her to +seem thus washing her hands. I have known her +continue in this a quarter of an hour. + +LADY MACBETH Yet here's a spot. + +DOCTOR Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes +from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more +strongly. + +LADY MACBETH Out, damned spot, out, I say! One. Two. +Why then, 'tis time to do 't. Hell is murky. Fie, my +lord, fie, a soldier and afeard? What need we fear +who knows it, when none can call our power to +account? Yet who would have thought the old man +to have had so much blood in him? + +DOCTOR Do you mark that? + +LADY MACBETH The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is +she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean? No +more o' that, my lord, no more o' that. You mar all +with this starting. + +DOCTOR Go to, go to. You have known what you should +not. + +GENTLEWOMAN She has spoke what she should not, +I am sure of that. Heaven knows what she has +known. + +LADY MACBETH Here's the smell of the blood still. All +the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little +hand. O, O, O! + +DOCTOR What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely +charged. + +GENTLEWOMAN I would not have such a heart in my +bosom for the dignity of the whole body. + +DOCTOR Well, well, well. + +GENTLEWOMAN Pray God it be, sir. + +DOCTOR This disease is beyond my practice. Yet I have +known those which have walked in their sleep, +who have died holily in their beds. + +LADY MACBETH Wash your hands. Put on your nightgown. +Look not so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's +buried; he cannot come out on 's grave. + +DOCTOR Even so? + +LADY MACBETH To bed, to bed. There's knocking at the +gate. Come, come, come, come. Give me your +hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to +bed, to bed. [Lady Macbeth exits.] + +DOCTOR Will she go now to bed? + +GENTLEWOMAN Directly. + +DOCTOR +Foul whisp'rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds +Do breed unnatural troubles. Infected minds +To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. +More needs she the divine than the physician. +God, God forgive us all. Look after her. +Remove from her the means of all annoyance +And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night. +My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight. +I think but dare not speak. + +GENTLEWOMAN Good night, good doctor. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Drum and Colors. Enter Menteith, Caithness, Angus, +Lennox, and Soldiers.] + + +MENTEITH +The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, +His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. +Revenges burn in them, for their dear causes +Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm +Excite the mortified man. + +ANGUS Near Birnam Wood +Shall we well meet them. That way are they coming. + +CAITHNESS +Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? + +LENNOX +For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file +Of all the gentry. There is Siward's son +And many unrough youths that even now +Protest their first of manhood. + +MENTEITH What does the tyrant? + +CAITHNESS +Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies. +Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him +Do call it valiant fury. But for certain +He cannot buckle his distempered cause +Within the belt of rule. + +ANGUS Now does he feel +His secret murders sticking on his hands. +Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach. +Those he commands move only in command, +Nothing in love. Now does he feel his title +Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe +Upon a dwarfish thief. + +MENTEITH Who, then, shall blame +His pestered senses to recoil and start +When all that is within him does condemn +Itself for being there? + +CAITHNESS Well, march we on +To give obedience where 'tis truly owed. +Meet we the med'cine of the sickly weal, +And with him pour we in our country's purge +Each drop of us. + +LENNOX Or so much as it needs +To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds. +Make we our march towards Birnam. +[They exit marching.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Macbeth, the Doctor, and Attendants.] + + +MACBETH +Bring me no more reports. Let them fly all. +Till Birnam Wood remove to Dunsinane +I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? +Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know +All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus: +"Fear not, Macbeth. No man that's born of woman +Shall e'er have power upon thee." Then fly, false +thanes, +And mingle with the English epicures. +The mind I sway by and the heart I bear +Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear. + +[Enter Servant.] + +The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! +Where got'st thou that goose-look? + +SERVANT There is ten thousand-- + +MACBETH Geese, villain? + +SERVANT Soldiers, sir. + +MACBETH +Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear, +Thou lily-livered boy. What soldiers, patch? +Death of thy soul! Those linen cheeks of thine +Are counselors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? + +SERVANT The English force, so please you. + +MACBETH +Take thy face hence. [Servant exits.] +Seyton!--I am sick at heart +When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push +Will cheer me ever or disseat me now. +I have lived long enough. My way of life +Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf, +And that which should accompany old age, +As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, +I must not look to have, but in their stead +Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath +Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare +not.-- +Seyton! + +[Enter Seyton.] + + +SEYTON +What's your gracious pleasure? + +MACBETH What news more? + +SEYTON +All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported. + +MACBETH +I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hacked. +Give me my armor. + +SEYTON 'Tis not needed yet. + +MACBETH I'll put it on. +Send out more horses. Skirr the country round. +Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine +armor.-- +How does your patient, doctor? + +DOCTOR Not so sick, my lord, +As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies +That keep her from her rest. + +MACBETH Cure her of that. +Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, +Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, +Raze out the written troubles of the brain, +And with some sweet oblivious antidote +Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff +Which weighs upon the heart? + +DOCTOR Therein the patient +Must minister to himself. + +MACBETH +Throw physic to the dogs. I'll none of it.-- +Come, put mine armor on. Give me my staff. +[Attendants begin to arm him.] +Seyton, send out.--Doctor, the thanes fly from +me.-- +Come, sir, dispatch.--If thou couldst, doctor, cast +The water of my land, find her disease, +And purge it to a sound and pristine health, +I would applaud thee to the very echo +That should applaud again.--Pull 't off, I say.-- +What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug +Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of +them? + +DOCTOR +Ay, my good lord. Your royal preparation +Makes us hear something. + +MACBETH Bring it after me.-- +I will not be afraid of death and bane +Till Birnam Forest come to Dunsinane. + +DOCTOR, [aside] +Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, +Profit again should hardly draw me here. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Drum and Colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, +Siward's son, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, and Soldiers, +marching.] + + +MALCOLM +Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand +That chambers will be safe. + +MENTEITH We doubt it nothing. + +SIWARD +What wood is this before us? + +MENTEITH The Wood of Birnam. + +MALCOLM +Let every soldier hew him down a bough +And bear 't before him. Thereby shall we shadow +The numbers of our host and make discovery +Err in report of us. + +SOLDIER It shall be done. + +SIWARD +We learn no other but the confident tyrant +Keeps still in Dunsinane and will endure +Our setting down before 't. + +MALCOLM 'Tis his main hope; +For, where there is advantage to be given, +Both more and less have given him the revolt, +And none serve with him but constrained things +Whose hearts are absent too. + +MACDUFF Let our just censures +Attend the true event, and put we on +Industrious soldiership. + +SIWARD The time approaches +That will with due decision make us know +What we shall say we have and what we owe. +Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, +But certain issue strokes must arbitrate; +Towards which, advance the war. +[They exit marching.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with Drum and +Colors.] + + +MACBETH +Hang out our banners on the outward walls. +The cry is still "They come!" Our castle's strength +Will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them lie +Till famine and the ague eat them up. +Were they not forced with those that should be +ours, +We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, +And beat them backward home. +[A cry within of women.] +What is that noise? + +SEYTON +It is the cry of women, my good lord. [He exits.] + +MACBETH +I have almost forgot the taste of fears. +The time has been my senses would have cooled +To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair +Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir +As life were in 't. I have supped full with horrors. +Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, +Cannot once start me. + +[Enter Seyton.] + +Wherefore was that cry? + +SEYTON The Queen, my lord, is dead. + +MACBETH She should have died hereafter. +There would have been a time for such a word. +Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow +Creeps in this petty pace from day to day +To the last syllable of recorded time, +And all our yesterdays have lighted fools +The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! +Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player +That struts and frets his hour upon the stage +And then is heard no more. It is a tale +Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, +Signifying nothing. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +Thou com'st to use thy tongue: thy story quickly. + +MESSENGER Gracious my lord, +I should report that which I say I saw, +But know not how to do 't. + +MACBETH Well, say, sir. + +MESSENGER +As I did stand my watch upon the hill, +I looked toward Birnam, and anon methought +The Wood began to move. + +MACBETH Liar and slave! + +MESSENGER +Let me endure your wrath if 't be not so. +Within this three mile may you see it coming. +I say, a moving grove. + +MACBETH If thou speak'st false, +Upon the next tree shall thou hang alive +Till famine cling thee. If thy speech be sooth, +I care not if thou dost for me as much.-- +I pull in resolution and begin +To doubt th' equivocation of the fiend, +That lies like truth. "Fear not till Birnam Wood +Do come to Dunsinane," and now a wood +Comes toward Dunsinane.--Arm, arm, and out!-- +If this which he avouches does appear, +There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. +I 'gin to be aweary of the sun +And wish th' estate o' th' world were now +undone.-- +Ring the alarum bell!--Blow wind, come wrack, +At least we'll die with harness on our back. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Drum and Colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and +their army, with boughs.] + + +MALCOLM +Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down +And show like those you are.--You, worthy uncle, +Shall with my cousin, your right noble son, +Lead our first battle. Worthy Macduff and we +Shall take upon 's what else remains to do, +According to our order. + +SIWARD Fare you well. +Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight, +Let us be beaten if we cannot fight. + +MACDUFF +Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, +Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. +[They exit.] +[Alarums continued.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Macbeth.] + + +MACBETH +They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly, +But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he +That was not born of woman? Such a one +Am I to fear, or none. + +[Enter young Siward.] + + +YOUNG SIWARD What is thy name? + +MACBETH Thou 'lt be afraid to hear it. + +YOUNG SIWARD +No, though thou call'st thyself a hotter name +Than any is in hell. + +MACBETH My name's Macbeth. + +YOUNG SIWARD +The devil himself could not pronounce a title +More hateful to mine ear. + +MACBETH No, nor more fearful. + +YOUNG SIWARD +Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword +I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. +[They fight, and young Siward is slain.] + +MACBETH Thou wast born of +woman. +But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, +Brandished by man that's of a woman born. +[He exits.] + +[Alarums. Enter Macduff.] + + +MACDUFF +That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face! +If thou beest slain, and with no stroke of mine, +My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. +I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms +Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth, +Or else my sword with an unbattered edge +I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; +By this great clatter, one of greatest note +Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune, +And more I beg not. [He exits. Alarums.] + +[Enter Malcolm and Siward.] + + +SIWARD +This way, my lord. The castle's gently rendered. +The tyrant's people on both sides do fight, +The noble thanes do bravely in the war, +The day almost itself professes yours, +And little is to do. + +MALCOLM We have met with foes +That strike beside us. + +SIWARD Enter, sir, the castle. +[They exit. Alarum.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Enter Macbeth.] + + +MACBETH +Why should I play the Roman fool and die +On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes +Do better upon them. + +[Enter Macduff.] + + +MACDUFF Turn, hellhound, turn! + +MACBETH +Of all men else I have avoided thee. +But get thee back. My soul is too much charged +With blood of thine already. + +MACDUFF I have no words; +My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain +Than terms can give thee out. [Fight. Alarum.] + +MACBETH Thou losest labor. +As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air +With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed. +Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; +I bear a charmed life, which must not yield +To one of woman born. + +MACDUFF Despair thy charm, +And let the angel whom thou still hast served +Tell thee Macduff was from his mother's womb +Untimely ripped. + +MACBETH +Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, +For it hath cowed my better part of man! +And be these juggling fiends no more believed +That palter with us in a double sense, +That keep the word of promise to our ear +And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee. + +MACDUFF Then yield thee, coward, +And live to be the show and gaze o' th' time. +We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, +Painted upon a pole, and underwrit +"Here may you see the tyrant." + +MACBETH I will not yield +To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet +And to be baited with the rabble's curse. +Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane +And thou opposed, being of no woman born, +Yet I will try the last. Before my body +I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, +And damned be him that first cries "Hold! Enough!" +[They exit fighting. Alarums.] + +[They enter fighting, and Macbeth is slain. Macduff +exits carrying off Macbeth's body. Retreat and flourish. +Enter, with Drum and Colors, Malcolm, Siward, Ross, +Thanes, and Soldiers.] + + +MALCOLM +I would the friends we miss were safe arrived. + +SIWARD +Some must go off; and yet by these I see +So great a day as this is cheaply bought. + +MALCOLM +Macduff is missing, and your noble son. + +ROSS +Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt. +He only lived but till he was a man, +The which no sooner had his prowess confirmed +In the unshrinking station where he fought, +But like a man he died. + +SIWARD Then he is dead? + +ROSS +Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow +Must not be measured by his worth, for then +It hath no end. + +SIWARD Had he his hurts before? + +ROSS +Ay, on the front. + +SIWARD Why then, God's soldier be he! +Had I as many sons as I have hairs, +I would not wish them to a fairer death; +And so his knell is knolled. + +MALCOLM +He's worth more sorrow, and that I'll spend for +him. + +SIWARD He's worth no more. +They say he parted well and paid his score, +And so, God be with him. Here comes newer +comfort. + +[Enter Macduff with Macbeth's head.] + + +MACDUFF +Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold where stands +Th' usurper's cursed head. The time is free. +I see thee compassed with thy kingdom's pearl, +That speak my salutation in their minds, +Whose voices I desire aloud with mine. +Hail, King of Scotland! + +ALL Hail, King of Scotland! [Flourish.] + +MALCOLM +We shall not spend a large expense of time +Before we reckon with your several loves +And make us even with you. My thanes and +kinsmen, +Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland +In such an honor named. What's more to do, +Which would be planted newly with the time, +As calling home our exiled friends abroad +That fled the snares of watchful tyranny, +Producing forth the cruel ministers +Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen +(Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands, +Took off her life)--this, and what needful else +That calls upon us, by the grace of grace, +We will perform in measure, time, and place. +So thanks to all at once and to each one, +Whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone. +[Flourish. All exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/measure-for-measure_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/measure-for-measure_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..441c2d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/measure-for-measure_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4477 @@ +Measure for Measure +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/measure-for-measure/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +DUKE of Vienna, later called Friar Lodowick +ESCALUS, a judge +PROVOST +ELBOW, a constable +ABHORSON, an executioner +A JUSTICE +VARRIUS, friend to the Duke +ANGELO, deputy to the Duke +MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo +BOY singer +SERVANT to Angelo +MESSENGER from Angelo +ISABELLA, a novice in the Order of Saint Clare +FRANCISCA, a nun +CLAUDIO, brother to Isabella +JULIET, betrothed to Claudio +LUCIO, friend to Claudio +TWO GENTLEMEN, associates of Lucio +FRIAR THOMAS +FRIAR PETER +MISTRESS OVERDONE, a bawd +POMPEY the Clown, her servant +FROTH, Pompey's customer +BARNARDINE, a prisoner +Lords, Officers, Citizens, Servants, and Attendants + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords, and Attendants.] + + +DUKE Escalus. + +ESCALUS My lord. + +DUKE +Of government the properties to unfold +Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse, +Since I am put to know that your own science +Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice +My strength can give you. Then no more remains +But that, to your sufficiency, as your worth is able, +And let them work. The nature of our people, +Our city's institutions, and the terms +For common justice, you're as pregnant in +As art and practice hath enriched any +That we remember. There is our commission, +[He hands Escalus a paper.] +From which we would not have you warp.--Call +hither, +I say, bid come before us Angelo. +[An Attendant exits.] +What figure of us think you he will bear? +For you must know, we have with special soul +Elected him our absence to supply, +Lent him our terror, dressed him with our love, +And given his deputation all the organs +Of our own power. What think you of it? + +ESCALUS +If any in Vienna be of worth +To undergo such ample grace and honor, +It is Lord Angelo. + +[Enter Angelo.] + + +DUKE Look where he comes. + +ANGELO +Always obedient to your Grace's will, +I come to know your pleasure. + +DUKE Angelo, +There is a kind of character in thy life +That to th' observer doth thy history +Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings +Are not thine own so proper as to waste +Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. +Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, +Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues +Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike +As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched +But to fine issues, nor nature never lends +The smallest scruple of her excellence +But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines +Herself the glory of a creditor, +Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech +To one that can my part in him advertise. +Hold, therefore, Angelo. +In our remove be thou at full ourself. +Mortality and mercy in Vienna +Live in thy tongue and heart. Old Escalus, +Though first in question, is thy secondary. +Take thy commission. [He hands Angelo a paper.] + +ANGELO Now, good my lord, +Let there be some more test made of my mettle +Before so noble and so great a figure +Be stamped upon it. + +DUKE No more evasion. +We have with a leavened and prepared choice +Proceeded to you. Therefore, take your honors. +Our haste from hence is of so quick condition +That it prefers itself and leaves unquestioned +Matters of needful value. We shall write to you, +As time and our concernings shall importune, +How it goes with us, and do look to know +What doth befall you here. So fare you well. +To th' hopeful execution do I leave you +Of your commissions. + +ANGELO Yet give leave, my lord, +That we may bring you something on the way. + +DUKE My haste may not admit it. +Nor need you, on mine honor, have to do +With any scruple. Your scope is as mine own, +So to enforce or qualify the laws +As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand. +I'll privily away. I love the people, +But do not like to stage me to their eyes. +Though it do well, I do not relish well +Their loud applause and aves vehement, +Nor do I think the man of safe discretion +That does affect it. Once more, fare you well. + +ANGELO +The heavens give safety to your purposes. + +ESCALUS +Lead forth and bring you back in happiness. + +DUKE I thank you. Fare you well. [He exits.] + +ESCALUS, [to Angelo] +I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave +To have free speech with you; and it concerns me +To look into the bottom of my place. +A power I have, but of what strength and nature +I am not yet instructed. + +ANGELO +'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together, +And we may soon our satisfaction have +Touching that point. + +ESCALUS I'll wait upon your Honor. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lucio and two other Gentlemen.] + + +LUCIO If the Duke, with the other dukes, come not to +composition with the King of Hungary, why then all +the dukes fall upon the King. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Heaven grant us its peace, but not +the King of Hungary's! + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Amen. + +LUCIO Thou conclud'st like the sanctimonious pirate +that went to sea with the ten commandments but +scraped one out of the table. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN "Thou shalt not steal"? + +LUCIO Ay, that he razed. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Why, 'twas a commandment to command +the Captain and all the rest from their functions! +They put forth to steal. There's not a soldier of +us all that in the thanksgiving before meat do relish +the petition well that prays for peace. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I never heard any soldier dislike it. + +LUCIO I believe thee, for I think thou never wast where +grace was said. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN No? A dozen times at least. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN What? In meter? + +LUCIO In any proportion or in any language. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I think, or in any religion. + +LUCIO Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all +controversy; as, for example, thou thyself art a +wicked villain, despite of all grace. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Well, there went but a pair of shears +between us. + +LUCIO I grant, as there may between the lists and the +velvet. Thou art the list. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN And thou the velvet. Thou art good +velvet; thou 'rt a three-piled piece, I warrant thee. I +had as lief be a list of an English kersey as be piled, +as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak +feelingly now? + +LUCIO I think thou dost, and indeed with most painful +feeling of thy speech. I will, out of thine own +confession, learn to begin thy health, but, whilst I +live, forget to drink after thee. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I think I have done myself wrong, +have I not? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Yes, that thou hast, whether thou +art tainted or free. + +[Enter Mistress Overdone, a Bawd.] + + +LUCIO Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation +comes! I have purchased as many diseases under +her roof as come to-- + +SECOND GENTLEMAN To what, I pray? + +LUCIO Judge. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN To three thousand dolors a year. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Ay, and more. + +LUCIO A French crown more. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Thou art always figuring diseases in +me, but thou art full of error. I am sound. + +LUCIO Nay, not, as one would say, healthy, but so sound +as things that are hollow. Thy bones are hollow. +Impiety has made a feast of thee. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN, [to Bawd] How now, which of your +hips has the most profound sciatica? + +BAWD Well, well. There's one yonder arrested and +carried to prison was worth five thousand of you all. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Who's that, I pray thee? + +BAWD Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Claudio to prison? 'Tis not so. + +BAWD Nay, but I know 'tis so. I saw him arrested, saw +him carried away; and, which is more, within these +three days his head to be chopped off. + +LUCIO But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so! +Art thou sure of this? + +BAWD I am too sure of it. And it is for getting Madam +Julietta with child. + +LUCIO Believe me, this may be. He promised to meet +me two hours since, and he was ever precise in +promise-keeping. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Besides, you know, it draws something +near to the speech we had to such a purpose. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN But most of all agreeing with the +proclamation. + +LUCIO Away. Let's go learn the truth of it. +[Lucio and Gentlemen exit.] + +BAWD Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, +what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am +custom-shrunk. + +[Enter Pompey.] + +How now? What's the news with you? + +POMPEY Yonder man is carried to prison. + +BAWD Well, what has he done? + +POMPEY A woman. + +BAWD But what's his offense? + +POMPEY Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. + +BAWD What? Is there a maid with child by him? + +POMPEY No, but there's a woman with maid by him. +You have not heard of the proclamation, have you? + +BAWD What proclamation, man? + +POMPEY All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be +plucked down. + +BAWD And what shall become of those in the city? + +POMPEY They shall stand for seed. They had gone down +too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. + +BAWD But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs +be pulled down? + +POMPEY To the ground, mistress. + +BAWD Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth! +What shall become of me? + +POMPEY Come, fear not you. Good counselors lack no +clients. Though you change your place, you need +not change your trade. I'll be your tapster still. +Courage. There will be pity taken on you. You that +have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you +will be considered. + +[Enter Provost, Claudio, Juliet, and Officers.] + + +BAWD What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let's +withdraw. + +POMPEY Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the Provost +to prison. And there's Madam Juliet. +[Bawd and Pompey exit.] + +CLAUDIO, [to Provost] +Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to th' world? +Bear me to prison, where I am committed. + +PROVOST +I do it not in evil disposition, +But from Lord Angelo by special charge. + +CLAUDIO +Thus can the demigod Authority +Make us pay down for our offense, by weight, +The words of heaven: on whom it will, it will; +On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just. + +[Enter Lucio and Second Gentleman.] + + +LUCIO +Why, how now, Claudio? Whence comes this +restraint? + +CLAUDIO +From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty. +As surfeit is the father of much fast, +So every scope by the immoderate use +Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, +Like rats that raven down their proper bane, +A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die. + +LUCIO If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I +would send for certain of my creditors. And yet, to +say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of +freedom as the mortality of imprisonment. What's +thy offense, Claudio? + +CLAUDIO +What but to speak of would offend again. + +LUCIO What, is 't murder? + +CLAUDIO No. + +LUCIO Lechery? + +CLAUDIO Call it so. + +PROVOST Away, sir. You must go. + +CLAUDIO +One word, good friend.--Lucio, a word with you. + +LUCIO A hundred, if they'll do you any good. Is lechery +so looked after? + +CLAUDIO +Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract +I got possession of Julietta's bed. +You know the lady. She is fast my wife, +Save that we do the denunciation lack +Of outward order. This we came not to +Only for propagation of a dower +Remaining in the coffer of her friends, +From whom we thought it meet to hide our love +Till time had made them for us. But it chances +The stealth of our most mutual entertainment +With character too gross is writ on Juliet. + +LUCIO +With child, perhaps? + +CLAUDIO Unhappily, even so. +And the new deputy now for the Duke-- +Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness, +Or whether that the body public be +A horse whereon the governor doth ride, +Who, newly in the seat, that it may know +He can command, lets it straight feel the spur; +Whether the tyranny be in his place +Or in his eminence that fills it up, +I stagger in--but this new governor +Awakes me all the enrolled penalties +Which have, like unscoured armor, hung by th' wall +So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round, +And none of them been worn; and for a name +Now puts the drowsy and neglected act +Freshly on me. 'Tis surely for a name. + +LUCIO I warrant it is. And thy head stands so tickle on +thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may +sigh it off. Send after the Duke and appeal to him. + +CLAUDIO +I have done so, but he's not to be found. +I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service: +This day my sister should the cloister enter +And there receive her approbation. +Acquaint her with the danger of my state; +Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends +To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him. +I have great hope in that, for in her youth +There is a prone and speechless dialect +Such as move men. Besides, she hath prosperous art +When she will play with reason and discourse, +And well she can persuade. + +LUCIO I pray she may, as well for the encouragement of +the like, which else would stand under grievous +imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I +would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a +game of tick-tack. I'll to her. + +CLAUDIO I thank you, good friend Lucio. + +LUCIO Within two hours. + +CLAUDIO Come, officer, away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Duke and Friar Thomas.] + + +DUKE +No, holy father, throw away that thought. +Believe not that the dribbling dart of love +Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee +To give me secret harbor hath a purpose +More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends +Of burning youth. + +FRIAR THOMAS May your Grace speak of it? + +DUKE +My holy sir, none better knows than you +How I have ever loved the life removed, +And held in idle price to haunt assemblies +Where youth and cost witless bravery keeps. +I have delivered to Lord Angelo, +A man of stricture and firm abstinence, +My absolute power and place here in Vienna, +And he supposes me traveled to Poland, +For so I have strewed it in the common ear, +And so it is received. Now, pious sir, +You will demand of me why I do this. + +FRIAR THOMAS Gladly, my lord. + +DUKE +We have strict statutes and most biting laws, +The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds, +Which for this fourteen years we have let slip, +Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave +That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers, +Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch +Only to stick it in their children's sight +For terror, not to use--in time the rod +More mocked than feared--so our decrees, +Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead, +And liberty plucks justice by the nose, +The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart +Goes all decorum. + +FRIAR THOMAS It rested in your Grace +To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased, +And it in you more dreadful would have seemed +Than in Lord Angelo. + +DUKE I do fear, too dreadful. +Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, +'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them +For what I bid them do; for we bid this be done +When evil deeds have their permissive pass +And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my +father, +I have on Angelo imposed the office, +Who may in th' ambush of my name strike home, +And yet my nature never in the fight +To do in slander. And to behold his sway +I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, +Visit both prince and people. Therefore I prithee +Supply me with the habit, and instruct me +How I may formally in person bear +Like a true friar. More reasons for this action +At our more leisure shall I render you. +Only this one: Lord Angelo is precise, +Stands at a guard with envy, scarce confesses +That his blood flows or that his appetite +Is more to bread than stone. Hence shall we see, +If power change purpose, what our seemers be. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Isabella and Francisca, a Nun.] + + +ISABELLA +And have you nuns no farther privileges? + +NUN Are not these large enough? + +ISABELLA +Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, +But rather wishing a more strict restraint +Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare. + +LUCIO, [within] +Ho, peace be in this place! + +ISABELLA Who's that which calls? + +NUN +It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella, +Turn you the key and know his business of him. +You may; I may not. You are yet unsworn. +When you have vowed, you must not speak with men +But in the presence of the Prioress. +Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; +Or if you show your face, you must not speak. +He calls again. I pray you answer him. + +ISABELLA +Peace and prosperity! Who is 't that calls? + +[Enter Lucio.] + + +LUCIO +Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses +Proclaim you are no less. Can you so stead me +As bring me to the sight of Isabella, +A novice of this place and the fair sister +To her unhappy brother, Claudio? + +ISABELLA +Why "her unhappy brother"? Let me ask, +The rather for I now must make you know +I am that Isabella, and his sister. + +LUCIO +Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you. +Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. + +ISABELLA Woe me, for what? + +LUCIO +For that which, if myself might be his judge, +He should receive his punishment in thanks: +He hath got his friend with child. + +ISABELLA +Sir, make me not your story. + +LUCIO 'Tis true. +I would not, though 'tis my familiar sin +With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest, +Tongue far from heart, play with all virgins so. +I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted, +By your renouncement an immortal spirit, +And to be talked with in sincerity +As with a saint. + +ISABELLA +You do blaspheme the good in mocking me. + +LUCIO +Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus: +Your brother and his lover have embraced; +As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time +That from the seedness the bare fallow brings +To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb +Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry. + +ISABELLA +Someone with child by him? My cousin Juliet? + +LUCIO Is she your cousin? + +ISABELLA +Adoptedly, as schoolmaids change their names +By vain though apt affection. + +LUCIO She it is. + +ISABELLA +O, let him marry her! + +LUCIO This is the point. +The Duke is very strangely gone from hence; +Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, +In hand, and hope of action; but we do learn, +By those that know the very nerves of state, +His givings-out were of an infinite distance +From his true-meant design. Upon his place, +And with full line of his authority, +Governs Lord Angelo, a man whose blood +Is very snow-broth; one who never feels +The wanton stings and motions of the sense, +But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge +With profits of the mind: study and fast. +He--to give fear to use and liberty, +Which have for long run by the hideous law +As mice by lions--hath picked out an act +Under whose heavy sense your brother's life +Falls into forfeit. He arrests him on it, +And follows close the rigor of the statute +To make him an example. All hope is gone +Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer +To soften Angelo. And that's my pith of business +'Twixt you and your poor brother. + +ISABELLA Doth he so +Seek his life? + +LUCIO Has censured him already, +And, as I hear, the Provost hath a warrant +For 's execution. + +ISABELLA +Alas, what poor ability's in me +To do him good? + +LUCIO Assay the power you have. + +ISABELLA +My power? Alas, I doubt-- + +LUCIO Our doubts are traitors +And makes us lose the good we oft might win +By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo +And let him learn to know, when maidens sue +Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel, +All their petitions are as freely theirs +As they themselves would owe them. + +ISABELLA I'll see what I can do. + +LUCIO But speedily! + +ISABELLA I will about it straight, +No longer staying but to give the Mother +Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you. +Commend me to my brother. Soon at night +I'll send him certain word of my success. + +LUCIO +I take my leave of you. + +ISABELLA Good sir, adieu. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Angelo, Escalus, Servants, and a Justice.] + + +ANGELO +We must not make a scarecrow of the law, +Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, +And let it keep one shape till custom make it +Their perch and not their terror. + +ESCALUS Ay, but yet +Let us be keen and rather cut a little +Than fall and bruise to death. Alas, this gentleman +Whom I would save had a most noble father. +Let but your Honor know, +Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue, +That, in the working of your own affections, +Had time cohered with place, or place with wishing, +Or that the resolute acting of your blood +Could have attained th' effect of your own purpose, +Whether you had not sometime in your life +Erred in this point which now you censure him, +And pulled the law upon you. + +ANGELO +'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, +Another thing to fall. I not deny +The jury passing on the prisoner's life +May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two +Guiltier than him they try. What's open made to +justice, +That justice seizes. What knows the laws +That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant, +The jewel that we find, we stoop and take 't +Because we see it; but what we do not see, +We tread upon and never think of it. +You may not so extenuate his offense +For I have had such faults; but rather tell me, +When I that censure him do so offend, +Let mine own judgment pattern out my death, +And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die. + +[Enter Provost.] + + +ESCALUS +Be it as your wisdom will. + +ANGELO Where is the Provost? + +PROVOST +Here, if it like your Honor. + +ANGELO See that Claudio +Be executed by nine tomorrow morning. +Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared, +For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. +[Provost exits.] + +ESCALUS +Well, heaven forgive him and forgive us all. +Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall. +Some run from brakes of ice and answer none, +And some condemned for a fault alone. + +[Enter Elbow and Officers, with Froth +and Pompey.] + + +ELBOW, [to Officers] Come, bring them away. If these +be good people in a commonweal that do nothing +but use their abuses in common houses, I know no +law. Bring them away. + +ANGELO How now, sir, what's your name? And what's +the matter? + +ELBOW If it please your Honor, I am the poor duke's +constable, and my name is Elbow. I do lean upon +justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good +Honor two notorious benefactors. + +ANGELO Benefactors? Well, what benefactors are they? +Are they not malefactors? + +ELBOW If it please your Honor, I know not well what +they are, but precise villains they are, that I am sure +of, and void of all profanation in the world that +good Christians ought to have. + +ESCALUS, [to Angelo] This comes off well. Here's a wise +officer. + +ANGELO, [to Elbow] Go to. What quality are they of? +Elbow is your name? Why dost thou not speak, +Elbow? + +POMPEY He cannot, sir. He's out at elbow. + +ANGELO What are you, sir? + +ELBOW He, sir? A tapster, sir, parcel bawd; one that +serves a bad woman, whose house, sir, was, as they +say, plucked down in the suburbs, and now she +professes a hothouse, which I think is a very ill +house too. + +ESCALUS How know you that? + +ELBOW My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and +your Honor-- + +ESCALUS How? Thy wife? + +ELBOW Ay, sir, whom I thank heaven is an honest +woman-- + +ESCALUS Dost thou detest her therefore? + +ELBOW I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as she, +that this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is pity +of her life, for it is a naughty house. + +ESCALUS How dost thou know that, constable? + +ELBOW Marry, sir, by my wife, who, if she had been a +woman cardinally given, might have been accused +in fornication, adultery, and all uncleanliness +there. + +ESCALUS By the woman's means? + +ELBOW Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdone's means; but as +she spit in his face, so she defied him. + +POMPEY, [to Escalus] Sir, if it please your Honor, this is +not so. + +ELBOW Prove it before these varlets here, thou honorable +man, prove it. + +ESCALUS, [to Angelo] Do you hear how he misplaces? + +POMPEY Sir, she came in great with child, and longing, +saving your Honor's reverence, for stewed prunes. +Sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very +distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit dish, a dish +of some threepence; your Honors have seen such +dishes; they are not china dishes, but very good +dishes-- + +ESCALUS Go to, go to. No matter for the dish, sir. + +POMPEY No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in +the right. But to the point: as I say, this Mistress +Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great-bellied, +and longing, as I said, for prunes; and +having but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth +here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, +and, as I say, paying for them very honestly--for, as +you know, Master Froth, I could not give you threepence +again-- + +FROTH No, indeed. + +POMPEY Very well. You being then, if you be remembered, +cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes-- + +FROTH Ay, so I did indeed. + +POMPEY Why, very well. I telling you then, if you be +remembered, that such a one and such a one were +past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept +very good diet, as I told you-- + +FROTH All this is true. + +POMPEY Why, very well then-- + +ESCALUS Come, you are a tedious fool. To the purpose: +what was done to Elbow's wife that he hath cause to +complain of? Come me to what was done to her. + +POMPEY Sir, your Honor cannot come to that yet. + +ESCALUS No, sir, nor I mean it not. + +POMPEY Sir, but you shall come to it, by your Honor's +leave. And I beseech you, look into Master Froth +here, sir, a man of fourscore pound a year, whose +father died at Hallowmas--was 't not at Hallowmas, +Master Froth? + +FROTH All-hallond Eve. + +POMPEY Why, very well. I hope here be truths.--He, +sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir--[To Froth.] +'Twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you +have a delight to sit, have you not? + +FROTH I have so, because it is an open room, and good +for winter. + +POMPEY Why, very well then. I hope here be truths. + +ANGELO, [to Escalus] +This will last out a night in Russia +When nights are longest there. I'll take my leave, +And leave you to the hearing of the cause, +Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all. + +ESCALUS +I think no less. Good morrow to your Lordship +[Angelo exits.] +Now, sir, come on. What was done to Elbow's wife, +once more? + +POMPEY Once, sir? There was nothing done to her +once. + +ELBOW, [to Escalus] I beseech you, sir, ask him what +this man did to my wife. + +POMPEY, [to Escalus] I beseech your Honor, ask me. + +ESCALUS Well, sir, what did this gentleman to her? + +POMPEY I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's +face.--Good Master Froth, look upon his Honor. +'Tis for a good purpose.--Doth your Honor mark +his face? + +ESCALUS Ay, sir, very well. + +POMPEY Nay, I beseech you, mark it well. + +ESCALUS Well, I do so. + +POMPEY Doth your Honor see any harm in his face? + +ESCALUS Why, no. + +POMPEY I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the +worst thing about him. Good, then, if his face be the +worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do +the Constable's wife any harm? I would know that +of your Honor. + +ESCALUS He's in the right, constable. What say you to +it? + +ELBOW First, an it like you, the house is a respected +house; next, this is a respected fellow, and his +mistress is a respected woman. + +POMPEY By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected +person than any of us all. + +ELBOW Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet! The +time is yet to come that she was ever respected with +man, woman, or child. + +POMPEY Sir, she was respected with him before he +married with her. + +ESCALUS Which is the wiser here, Justice or Iniquity? +Is this true? + +ELBOW, [to Pompey] O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O +thou wicked Hannibal! I respected with her before I +was married to her?--If ever I was respected with +her, or she with me, let not your Worship think me +the poor duke's officer.--Prove this, thou wicked +Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of batt'ry on thee. + +ESCALUS If he took you a box o' th' ear, you might have +your action of slander too. + +ELBOW Marry, I thank your good Worship for it. What +is 't your Worship's pleasure I shall do with this +wicked caitiff? + +ESCALUS Truly, officer, because he hath some offenses +in him that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, +let him continue in his courses till thou know'st +what they are. + +ELBOW Marry, I thank your Worship for it. [To Pompey.] +Thou seest, thou wicked varlet, now, what's +come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou +varlet, thou art to continue. + +ESCALUS, [to Froth] Where were you born, friend? + +FROTH Here in Vienna, sir. + +ESCALUS Are you of fourscore pounds a year? + +FROTH Yes, an 't please you, sir. + +ESCALUS So. [To Pompey.] What trade are you of, sir? + +POMPEY A tapster, a poor widow's tapster. + +ESCALUS Your mistress' name? + +POMPEY Mistress Overdone. + +ESCALUS Hath she had any more than one husband? + +POMPEY Nine, sir. Overdone by the last. + +ESCALUS Nine?--Come hither to me, Master Froth. +Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with +tapsters; they will draw you, Master Froth, and you +will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no +more of you. + +FROTH I thank your Worship. For mine own part, I +never come into any room in a taphouse but I am +drawn in. + +ESCALUS Well, no more of it, Master Froth. Farewell. +[Froth exits.] +Come you hither to me, Master Tapster. What's your +name, Master Tapster? + +POMPEY Pompey. + +ESCALUS What else? + +POMPEY Bum, sir. + +ESCALUS Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing +about you, so that in the beastliest sense you are +Pompey the Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, +Pompey, howsoever you color it in being a tapster, +are you not? Come, tell me true. It shall be the +better for you. + +POMPEY Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. + +ESCALUS How would you live, Pompey? By being a +bawd? What do you think of the trade, Pompey? Is it +a lawful trade? + +POMPEY If the law would allow it, sir. + +ESCALUS But the law will not allow it, Pompey, nor it +shall not be allowed in Vienna. + +POMPEY Does your Worship mean to geld and splay all +the youth of the city? + +ESCALUS No, Pompey. + +POMPEY Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to 't +then. If your Worship will take order for the drabs +and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds. + +ESCALUS There is pretty orders beginning, I can tell +you. It is but heading and hanging. + +POMPEY If you head and hang all that offend that way +but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a +commission for more heads. If this law hold in +Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it after +threepence a bay. If you live to see this come to +pass, say Pompey told you so. + +ESCALUS Thank you, good Pompey. And in requital of +your prophecy, hark you: I advise you let me not +find you before me again upon any complaint +whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where you do. If I +do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent and prove +a shrewd Caesar to you. In plain dealing, Pompey, I +shall have you whipped. So, for this time, Pompey, +fare you well. + +POMPEY I thank your Worship for your good counsel. +[Aside.] But I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune +shall better determine. +Whip me? No, no, let carman whip his jade. +The valiant heart's not whipped out of his trade. +[He exits.] + +ESCALUS Come hither to me, Master Elbow. Come +hither, Master Constable. How long have you been +in this place of constable? + +ELBOW Seven year and a half, sir. + +ESCALUS I thought, by the readiness in the office, you +had continued in it some time. You say seven years +together? + +ELBOW And a half, sir. + +ESCALUS Alas, it hath been great pains to you. They do +you wrong to put you so oft upon 't. Are there not +men in your ward sufficient to serve it? + +ELBOW Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters. As +they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for +them. I do it for some piece of money and go +through with all. + +ESCALUS Look you bring me in the names of some six +or seven, the most sufficient of your parish. + +ELBOW To your Worship's house, sir? + +ESCALUS To my house. Fare you well. +[Elbow and Officers exit.] +[To Justice.] What's o'clock, think you? + +JUSTICE Eleven, sir. + +ESCALUS I pray you home to dinner with me. + +JUSTICE I humbly thank you. + +ESCALUS +It grieves me for the death of Claudio, +But there's no remedy. + +JUSTICE +Lord Angelo is severe. + +ESCALUS It is but needful. +Mercy is not itself that oft looks so. +Pardon is still the nurse of second woe. +But yet, poor Claudio. There is no remedy. +Come, sir. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Provost and a Servant.] + + +SERVANT +He's hearing of a cause. He will come straight. +I'll tell him of you. + +PROVOST Pray you do. +[Servant exits.] +I'll know +His pleasure. Maybe he will relent. Alas, +He hath but as offended in a dream. +All sects, all ages smack of this vice, and he +To die for 't? + +[Enter Angelo.] + + +ANGELO Now, what's the matter, provost? + +PROVOST +Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow? + +ANGELO +Did not I tell thee yea? Hadst thou not order? +Why dost thou ask again? + +PROVOST Lest I might be too rash. +Under your good correction, I have seen +When, after execution, judgment hath +Repented o'er his doom. + +ANGELO Go to. Let that be mine. +Do you your office, or give up your place +And you shall well be spared. + +PROVOST I crave your Honor's pardon. +What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet? +She's very near her hour. + +ANGELO Dispose of her +To some more fitter place, and that with speed. + +[Enter Servant.] + + +SERVANT +Here is the sister of the man condemned +Desires access to you. + +ANGELO Hath he a sister? + +PROVOST +Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid, +And to be shortly of a sisterhood, +If not already. + +ANGELO, [to Servant] Well, let her be admitted. +[Servant exits.] +See you the fornicatress be removed. +Let her have needful but not lavish means. +There shall be order for 't. + +[Enter Lucio and Isabella.] + + +PROVOST, [beginning to exit] Save your Honor. + +ANGELO +Stay a little while. [To Isabella.] You're welcome. +What's your will? + +ISABELLA +I am a woeful suitor to your Honor, +Please but your Honor hear me. + +ANGELO Well, what's your +suit? + +ISABELLA +There is a vice that most I do abhor, +And most desire should meet the blow of justice, +For which I would not plead, but that I must; +For which I must not plead, but that I am +At war 'twixt will and will not. + +ANGELO Well, the matter? + +ISABELLA +I have a brother is condemned to die. +I do beseech you let it be his fault +And not my brother. + +PROVOST, [aside] Heaven give thee moving +graces. + +ANGELO +Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? +Why, every fault's condemned ere it be done. +Mine were the very cipher of a function +To fine the faults whose fine stands in record +And let go by the actor. + +ISABELLA O just but severe law! +I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your Honor. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] +Give 't not o'er so. To him again, entreat him, +Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown. +You are too cold. If you should need a pin, +You could not with more tame a tongue desire it. +To him, I say. + +ISABELLA, [to Angelo] +Must he needs die? + +ANGELO Maiden, no remedy. + +ISABELLA +Yes, I do think that you might pardon him, +And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy. + +ANGELO +I will not do 't. + +ISABELLA But can you if you would? + +ANGELO +Look what I will not, that I cannot do. + +ISABELLA +But might you do 't and do the world no wrong +If so your heart were touched with that remorse +As mine is to him? + +ANGELO He's sentenced. 'Tis too late. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] You are too cold. + +ISABELLA +Too late? Why, no. I that do speak a word +May call it back again. Well believe this: +No ceremony that to great ones longs, +Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, +The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe +Become them with one half so good a grace +As mercy does. +If he had been as you, and you as he, +You would have slipped like him, but he like you +Would not have been so stern. + +ANGELO Pray you begone. + +ISABELLA +I would to heaven I had your potency, +And you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? +No. I would tell what 'twere to be a judge +And what a prisoner. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] Ay, touch him; there's the +vein. + +ANGELO +Your brother is a forfeit of the law, +And you but waste your words. + +ISABELLA Alas, alas! +Why all the souls that were were forfeit once, +And He that might the vantage best have took +Found out the remedy. How would you be +If He which is the top of judgment should +But judge you as you are? O, think on that, +And mercy then will breathe within your lips +Like man new-made. + +ANGELO Be you content, fair maid. +It is the law, not I, condemn your brother. +Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, +It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow. + +ISABELLA +Tomorrow? O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him. +He's not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens +We kill the fowl of season. Shall we serve heaven +With less respect than we do minister +To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink +you. +Who is it that hath died for this offense? +There's many have committed it. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] Ay, well said. + +ANGELO +The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. +Those many had not dared to do that evil +If the first that did th' edict infringe +Had answered for his deed. Now 'tis awake, +Takes note of what is done, and, like a prophet, +Looks in a glass that shows what future evils-- +Either now, or by remissness new-conceived, +And so in progress to be hatched and born-- +Are now to have no successive degrees +But, ere they live, to end. + +ISABELLA Yet show some pity. + +ANGELO +I show it most of all when I show justice, +For then I pity those I do not know, +Which a dismissed offense would after gall, +And do him right that, answering one foul wrong, +Lives not to act another. Be satisfied; +Your brother dies tomorrow; be content. + +ISABELLA +So you must be the first that gives this sentence, +And he that suffers. O, it is excellent +To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous +To use it like a giant. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] That's well said. + +ISABELLA Could great men thunder +As Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet, +For every pelting, petty officer +Would use his heaven for thunder, +Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven, +Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt +Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, +Than the soft myrtle. But man, proud man, +Dressed in a little brief authority, +Most ignorant of what he's most assured, +His glassy essence, like an angry ape +Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven +As makes the angels weep, who with our spleens +Would all themselves laugh mortal. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] +O, to him, to him, wench. He will relent. +He's coming. I perceive 't. + +PROVOST, [aside] Pray heaven she win him. + +ISABELLA +We cannot weigh our brother with ourself. +Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them, +But in the less, foul profanation. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] +Thou 'rt i' th' right, girl. More o' that. + +ISABELLA +That in the captain's but a choleric word +Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] +Art avised o' that? More on 't. + +ANGELO +Why do you put these sayings upon me? + +ISABELLA +Because authority, though it err like others, +Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself +That skins the vice o' th' top. Go to your bosom, +Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know +That's like my brother's fault. If it confess +A natural guiltiness such as is his, +Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue +Against my brother's life. + +ANGELO, [aside] She speaks, and 'tis such sense +That my sense breeds with it. [He begins to exit.] +Fare you well. + +ISABELLA Gentle my lord, turn back. + +ANGELO +I will bethink me. Come again tomorrow. + +ISABELLA +Hark how I'll bribe you. Good my lord, turn back. + +ANGELO How? Bribe me? + +ISABELLA +Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] You had marred all else. + +ISABELLA +Not with fond sicles of the tested gold, +Or stones whose rate are either rich or poor +As fancy values them, but with true prayers +That shall be up at heaven and enter there +Ere sunrise, prayers from preserved souls, +From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate +To nothing temporal. + +ANGELO Well, come to me tomorrow. + +LUCIO, [aside to Isabella] Go to, 'tis well; away. + +ISABELLA +Heaven keep your Honor safe. + +ANGELO, [aside] Amen. +For I am that way going to temptation +Where prayers cross. + +ISABELLA At what hour tomorrow +Shall I attend your Lordship? + +ANGELO At any time 'fore noon. + +ISABELLA Save your Honor. +[She exits, with Lucio and Provost.] + +ANGELO From thee, even from thy virtue. +What's this? What's this? Is this her fault or mine? +The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha? +Not she, nor doth she tempt; but it is I +That, lying by the violet in the sun, +Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, +Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be +That modesty may more betray our sense +Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground +enough, +Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary +And pitch our evils there? O fie, fie, fie! +What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? +Dost thou desire her foully for those things +That make her good? O, let her brother live. +Thieves for their robbery have authority +When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her +That I desire to hear her speak again +And feast upon her eyes? What is 't I dream on? +O cunning enemy that, to catch a saint, +With saints dost bait thy hook. Most dangerous +Is that temptation that doth goad us on +To sin in loving virtue. Never could the strumpet +With all her double vigor, art and nature, +Once stir my temper, but this virtuous maid +Subdues me quite. Ever till now +When men were fond, I smiled and wondered how. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Duke, disguised as a Friar, and Provost.] + + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Hail to you, provost, so I think you are. + +PROVOST +I am the Provost. What's your will, good friar? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Bound by my charity and my blest order, +I come to visit the afflicted spirits +Here in the prison. Do me the common right +To let me see them, and to make me know +The nature of their crimes, that I may minister +To them accordingly. + +PROVOST +I would do more than that if more were needful. + +[Enter Juliet.] + +Look, here comes one, a gentlewoman of mine, +Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth, +Hath blistered her report. She is with child, +And he that got it, sentenced--a young man, +More fit to do another such offense +Than die for this. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +When must he die? + +PROVOST As I do think, tomorrow. +[To Juliet.] I have provided for you. Stay awhile +And you shall be conducted. + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Juliet] +Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry? + +JULIET +I do; and bear the shame most patiently. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience, +And try your penitence, if it be sound +Or hollowly put on. + +JULIET I'll gladly learn. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Love you the man that wronged you? + +JULIET +Yes, as I love the woman that wronged him. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +So then it seems your most offenseful act +Was mutually committed? + +JULIET Mutually. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. + +JULIET +I do confess it and repent it, father. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +'Tis meet so, daughter; but lest you do repent +As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, +Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not +heaven, +Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it, +But as we stand in fear-- + +JULIET +I do repent me as it is an evil, +And take the shame with joy. + +DUKE, [as Friar] There rest. +Your partner, as I hear, must die tomorrow, +And I am going with instruction to him. +Grace go with you. Benedicite. [He exits.] + +JULIET +Must die tomorrow? O injurious love +That respites me a life, whose very comfort +Is still a dying horror. + +PROVOST 'Tis pity of him. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Angelo.] + + +ANGELO +When I would pray and think, I think and pray +To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words, +Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, +Anchors on Isabel. God in my mouth, +As if I did but only chew His name, +And in my heart the strong and swelling evil +Of my conception. The state whereon I studied +Is, like a good thing being often read, +Grown sere and tedious. Yea, my gravity, +Wherein--let no man hear me--I take pride, +Could I with boot change for an idle plume +Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form, +How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, +Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls +To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood. +Let's write "good angel" on the devil's horn. +'Tis not the devil's crest. [Knock within.] How now, +who's there? + +[Enter Servant.] + + +SERVANT +One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you. + +ANGELO +Teach her the way. [Servant exits.] O heavens, +Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, +Making both it unable for itself +And dispossessing all my other parts +Of necessary fitness? +So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons, +Come all to help him, and so stop the air +By which he should revive. And even so +The general subject to a well-wished king +Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness +Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love +Must needs appear offense. + +[Enter Isabella.] + +How now, fair maid? + +ISABELLA I am come to know your pleasure. + +ANGELO +That you might know it would much better please me +Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. + +ISABELLA Even so. Heaven keep your Honor. + +ANGELO +Yet may he live a while. And it may be +As long as you or I. Yet he must die. + +ISABELLA Under your sentence? + +ANGELO Yea. + +ISABELLA +When, I beseech you? That in his reprieve, +Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted +That his soul sicken not. + +ANGELO +Ha! Fie, these filthy vices! It were as good +To pardon him that hath from nature stolen +A man already made, as to remit +Their saucy sweetness that do coin God's image +In stamps that are forbid. 'Tis all as easy +Falsely to take away a life true made +As to put metal in restrained means +To make a false one. + +ISABELLA +'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in Earth. + +ANGELO +Say you so? Then I shall pose you quickly: +Which had you rather, that the most just law +Now took your brother's life, or, to redeem him, +Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness +As she that he hath stained? + +ISABELLA Sir, believe this: +I had rather give my body than my soul. + +ANGELO +I talk not of your soul. Our compelled sins +Stand more for number than for accompt. + +ISABELLA How say you? + +ANGELO +Nay, I'll not warrant that, for I can speak +Against the thing I say. Answer to this: +I, now the voice of the recorded law, +Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life. +Might there not be a charity in sin +To save this brother's life? + +ISABELLA Please you to do 't, +I'll take it as a peril to my soul, +It is no sin at all, but charity. + +ANGELO +Pleased you to do 't, at peril of your soul, +Were equal poise of sin and charity. + +ISABELLA +That I do beg his life, if it be sin +Heaven let me bear it. You granting of my suit, +If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer +To have it added to the faults of mine +And nothing of your answer. + +ANGELO Nay, but hear me. +Your sense pursues not mine. Either you are +ignorant, +Or seem so, crafty, and that's not good. + +ISABELLA +Let me be ignorant and in nothing good, +But graciously to know I am no better. + +ANGELO +Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright +When it doth tax itself, as these black masks +Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder +Than beauty could, displayed. But mark me. +To be received plain, I'll speak more gross: +Your brother is to die. + +ISABELLA So. + +ANGELO +And his offense is so, as it appears, +Accountant to the law upon that pain. + +ISABELLA True. + +ANGELO +Admit no other way to save his life-- +As I subscribe not that, nor any other-- +But, in the loss of question, that you, his sister, +Finding yourself desired of such a person +Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, +Could fetch your brother from the manacles +Of the all-binding law, and that there were +No earthly mean to save him but that either +You must lay down the treasures of your body +To this supposed, or else to let him suffer, +What would you do? + +ISABELLA +As much for my poor brother as myself. +That is, were I under the terms of death, +Th' impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies +And strip myself to death as to a bed +That longing have been sick for, ere I'd yield +My body up to shame. + +ANGELO Then must your brother die. + +ISABELLA And 'twere the cheaper way. +Better it were a brother died at once +Than that a sister, by redeeming him, +Should die forever. + +ANGELO +Were not you then as cruel as the sentence +That you have slandered so? + +ISABELLA +Ignomy in ransom and free pardon +Are of two houses. Lawful mercy +Is nothing kin to foul redemption. + +ANGELO +You seemed of late to make the law a tyrant, +And rather proved the sliding of your brother +A merriment than a vice. + +ISABELLA +O, pardon me, my lord. It oft falls out, +To have what we would have, we speak not what we +mean. +I something do excuse the thing I hate +For his advantage that I dearly love. + +ANGELO +We are all frail. + +ISABELLA Else let my brother die, +If not a fedary but only he +Owe and succeed thy weakness. + +ANGELO Nay, women are frail too. + +ISABELLA +Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves, +Which are as easy broke as they make forms. +Women--help, heaven--men their creation mar +In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail, +For we are soft as our complexions are, +And credulous to false prints. + +ANGELO I think it well. +And from this testimony of your own sex, +Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger +Than faults may shake our frames, let me be bold. +I do arrest your words. Be that you are-- +That is, a woman. If you be more, you're none. +If you be one, as you are well expressed +By all external warrants, show it now +By putting on the destined livery. + +ISABELLA +I have no tongue but one. Gentle my lord, +Let me entreat you speak the former language. + +ANGELO Plainly conceive I love you. + +ISABELLA My brother did love Juliet, +And you tell me that he shall die for 't. + +ANGELO +He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. + +ISABELLA +I know your virtue hath a license in 't +Which seems a little fouler than it is +To pluck on others. + +ANGELO Believe me, on mine honor, +My words express my purpose. + +ISABELLA +Ha! Little honor to be much believed, +And most pernicious purpose. Seeming, seeming! +I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for 't. +Sign me a present pardon for my brother +Or with an outstretched throat I'll tell the world +aloud +What man thou art. + +ANGELO Who will believe thee, Isabel? +My unsoiled name, th' austereness of my life, +My vouch against you, and my place i' th' state +Will so your accusation overweigh +That you shall stifle in your own report +And smell of calumny. I have begun, +And now I give my sensual race the rein. +Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; +Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes +That banish what they sue for. Redeem thy brother +By yielding up thy body to my will, +Or else he must not only die the death, +But thy unkindness shall his death draw out +To ling'ring sufferance. Answer me tomorrow, +Or by the affection that now guides me most, +I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you, +Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true. +[He exits.] + +ISABELLA +To whom should I complain? Did I tell this, +Who would believe me? O, perilous mouths, +That bear in them one and the selfsame tongue, +Either of condemnation or approof, +Bidding the law make curtsy to their will, +Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite, +To follow as it draws. I'll to my brother. +Though he hath fall'n by prompture of the blood, +Yet hath he in him such a mind of honor +That, had he twenty heads to tender down +On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up +Before his sister should her body stoop +To such abhorred pollution. +Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die. +More than our brother is our chastity. +I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request, +And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke as a Friar, Claudio, and Provost.] + + +DUKE, [as Friar] +So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo? + +CLAUDIO +The miserable have no other medicine +But only hope. +I have hope to live and am prepared to die. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Be absolute for death. Either death or life +Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: +If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing +That none but fools would keep. A breath thou art, +Servile to all the skyey influences +That doth this habitation where thou keep'st +Hourly afflict. Merely, thou art death's fool, +For him thou labor'st by thy flight to shun, +And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble, +For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st +Are nursed by baseness. Thou 'rt by no means +valiant, +For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork +Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, +And that thou oft provok'st, yet grossly fear'st +Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself, +For thou exists on many a thousand grains +That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not, +For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get, +And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain, +For thy complexion shifts to strange effects +After the moon. If thou art rich, thou 'rt poor, +For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, +Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, +And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none, +For thine own bowels which do call thee sire, +The mere effusion of thy proper loins, +Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum +For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor +age, +But as it were an after-dinner's sleep +Dreaming on both, for all thy blessed youth +Becomes as aged and doth beg the alms +Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, +Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty +To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this +That bears the name of life? Yet in this life +Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear, +That makes these odds all even. + +CLAUDIO I humbly thank you. +To sue to live, I find I seek to die, +And seeking death, find life. Let it come on. + +ISABELLA, [within] +What ho! Peace here, grace, and good company. + +PROVOST +Who's there? Come in. The wish deserves a welcome. + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Claudio] +Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again. + +CLAUDIO Most holy sir, I thank you. + +[Enter Isabella.] + + +ISABELLA, [to Provost] +My business is a word or two with Claudio. + +PROVOST +And very welcome.--Look, signior, here's your +sister. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Provost, a word with you. + +PROVOST As many as you please. + +DUKE, [as Friar, aside to Provost] +Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be +concealed. +[Duke and Provost exit.] + +CLAUDIO Now, sister, what's the comfort? + +ISABELLA Why, +As all comforts are, most good, most good indeed. +Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven, +Intends you for his swift ambassador, +Where you shall be an everlasting leiger; +Therefore your best appointment make with speed. +Tomorrow you set on. + +CLAUDIO Is there no remedy? + +ISABELLA +None but such remedy as, to save a head, +To cleave a heart in twain. + +CLAUDIO But is there any? + +ISABELLA Yes, brother, you may live. +There is a devilish mercy in the judge, +If you'll implore it, that will free your life +But fetter you till death. + +CLAUDIO Perpetual durance? + +ISABELLA +Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint, +Though all the world's vastidity you had, +To a determined scope. + +CLAUDIO But in what nature? + +ISABELLA +In such a one as, you consenting to 't, +Would bark your honor from that trunk you bear +And leave you naked. + +CLAUDIO Let me know the point. + +ISABELLA +O, I do fear thee, Claudio, and I quake +Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, +And six or seven winters more respect +Than a perpetual honor. Dar'st thou die? +The sense of death is most in apprehension, +And the poor beetle that we tread upon +In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great +As when a giant dies. + +CLAUDIO Why give you me this shame? +Think you I can a resolution fetch +From flowery tenderness? If I must die, +I will encounter darkness as a bride, +And hug it in mine arms. + +ISABELLA +There spake my brother! There my father's grave +Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die. +Thou art too noble to conserve a life +In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy-- +Whose settled visage and deliberate word +Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth enew +As falcon doth the fowl--is yet a devil. +His filth within being cast, he would appear +A pond as deep as hell. + +CLAUDIO The prenzie Angelo? + +ISABELLA +O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell +The damned'st body to invest and cover +In prenzie guards. Dost thou think, Claudio, +If I would yield him my virginity +Thou mightst be freed? + +CLAUDIO O heavens, it cannot be! + +ISABELLA +Yes, he would give 't thee; from this rank offense, +So to offend him still. This night's the time +That I should do what I abhor to name, +Or else thou diest tomorrow. + +CLAUDIO Thou shalt not do 't. + +ISABELLA O, were it but my life, +I'd throw it down for your deliverance +As frankly as a pin. + +CLAUDIO Thanks, dear Isabel. + +ISABELLA +Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow. + +CLAUDIO Yes. Has he affections in him +That thus can make him bite the law by th' nose, +When he would force it? Sure it is no sin, +Or of the deadly seven it is the least. + +ISABELLA Which is the least? + +CLAUDIO +If it were damnable, he being so wise, +Why would he for the momentary trick +Be perdurably fined? O, Isabel-- + +ISABELLA +What says my brother? + +CLAUDIO Death is a fearful thing. + +ISABELLA And shamed life a hateful. + +CLAUDIO +Ay, but to die, and go we know not where, +To lie in cold obstruction and to rot, +This sensible warm motion to become +A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit +To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside +In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice, +To be imprisoned in the viewless winds +And blown with restless violence round about +The pendent world; or to be worse than worst +Of those that lawless and incertain thought +Imagine howling--'tis too horrible. +The weariest and most loathed worldly life +That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment +Can lay on nature is a paradise +To what we fear of death. + +ISABELLA Alas, alas! + +CLAUDIO Sweet sister, let me live. +What sin you do to save a brother's life, +Nature dispenses with the deed so far +That it becomes a virtue. + +ISABELLA O, you beast! +O faithless coward, O dishonest wretch, +Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? +Is 't not a kind of incest to take life +From thine own sister's shame? What should I think? +Heaven shield my mother played my father fair, +For such a warped slip of wilderness +Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance; +Die, perish. Might but my bending down +Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed. +I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, +No word to save thee. + +CLAUDIO Nay, hear me, Isabel-- + +ISABELLA O, fie, fie, fie! +Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade. +Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd. +'Tis best that thou diest quickly. + +CLAUDIO O, hear me, Isabella-- + +[Enter Duke as a Friar.] + + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Isabella] +Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word. + +ISABELLA What is your will? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Might you dispense with your leisure, I +would by and by have some speech with you. The +satisfaction I would require is likewise your own +benefit. + +ISABELLA I have no superfluous leisure. My stay must +be stolen out of other affairs, but I will attend you +awhile. + +DUKE, [as Friar, taking Claudio aside] Son, I have overheard +what hath passed between you and your +sister. Angelo had never the purpose to corrupt her; +only he hath made an assay of her virtue, to practice +his judgment with the disposition of natures. She, +having the truth of honor in her, hath made him +that gracious denial which he is most glad to +receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this +to be true. Therefore prepare yourself to death. Do +not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are +fallible. Tomorrow you must die. Go to your knees +and make ready. + +CLAUDIO Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of +love with life that I will sue to be rid of it. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Hold you there. Farewell.--Provost, a +word with you. + +[Enter Provost.] + + +PROVOST What's your will, father? + +DUKE, [as Friar] That now you are come, you will be +gone. Leave me awhile with the maid. My mind +promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by +my company. + +PROVOST In good time. [He exits, with Claudio.] + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Isabella] The hand that hath made +you fair hath made you good. The goodness that is +cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness, +but grace, being the soul of your complexion, shall +keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Angelo +hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my +understanding; and but that frailty hath examples +for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will +you do to content this substitute and to save your +brother? + +ISABELLA I am now going to resolve him. I had rather +my brother die by the law than my son should be +unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good +duke deceived in Angelo! If ever he return, and I +can speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or +discover his government. + +DUKE, [as Friar] That shall not be much amiss. Yet, as +the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation: +he made trial of you only. Therefore, fasten +your ear on my advisings. To the love I have in doing +good, a remedy presents itself. I do make myself +believe that you may most uprighteously do a poor +wronged lady a merited benefit, redeem your brother +from the angry law, do no stain to your own +gracious person, and much please the absent duke, +if peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing +of this business. + +ISABELLA Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to +do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my +spirit. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Virtue is bold, and goodness never +fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the +sister of Frederick, the great soldier who miscarried +at sea? + +ISABELLA I have heard of the lady, and good words +went with her name. + +DUKE, [as Friar] She should this Angelo have married, +was affianced to her oath, and the nuptial appointed. +Between which time of the contract and +limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was +wracked at sea, having in that perished vessel the +dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell +to the poor gentlewoman. There she lost a noble +and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever +most kind and natural; with him, the portion and +sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with +both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming +Angelo. + +ISABELLA Can this be so? Did Angelo so leave her? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Left her in her tears and dried not one +of them with his comfort, swallowed his vows +whole, pretending in her discoveries of dishonor; in +few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which +she yet wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her +tears, is washed with them but relents not. + +ISABELLA What a merit were it in death to take this +poor maid from the world! What corruption in this +life, that it will let this man live! But how out of this +can she avail? + +DUKE, [as Friar] It is a rupture that you may easily heal, +and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but +keeps you from dishonor in doing it. + +ISABELLA Show me how, good father. + +DUKE, [as Friar] This forenamed maid hath yet in her +the continuance of her first affection. His unjust +unkindness, that in all reason should have +quenched her love, hath, like an impediment in the +current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to +Angelo, answer his requiring with a plausible obedience, +agree with his demands to the point. Only +refer yourself to this advantage: first, that your stay +with him may not be long, that the time may have all +shadow and silence in it, and the place answer to +convenience. This being granted in course, and +now follows all: we shall advise this wronged maid +to stead up your appointment, go in your place. If +the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may +compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is +your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor +Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy +scaled. The maid will I frame and make fit for his +attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, +the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit +from reproof. What think you of it? + +ISABELLA The image of it gives me content already, and +I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. + +DUKE, [as Friar] It lies much in your holding up. Haste +you speedily to Angelo. If for this night he entreat +you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I +will presently to Saint Luke's. There at the moated +grange resides this dejected Mariana. At that place +call upon me, and dispatch with Angelo that it may +be quickly. + +ISABELLA I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, +good father. +[She exits. The Duke remains.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Elbow, Pompey, and Officers.] + + +ELBOW, [to Pompey] Nay, if there be no remedy for it +but that you will needs buy and sell men and +women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink +brown and white bastard. + +DUKE, [as Friar, aside] O heavens, what stuff is here? + +POMPEY 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, +the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed +by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm, +and furred with fox and lambskins too, to signify +that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for +the facing. + +ELBOW Come your way, sir.--Bless you, good father +friar. + +DUKE, [as Friar] And you, good brother father. What +offense hath this man made you, sir? + +ELBOW Marry, sir, he hath offended the law; and, sir, +we take him to be a thief too, sir, for we have found +upon him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have +sent to the Deputy. + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Pompey] +Fie, sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd! +The evil that thou causest to be done, +That is thy means to live. Do thou but think +What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back +From such a filthy vice; say to thyself, +From their abominable and beastly touches +I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. +Canst thou believe thy living is a life, +So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend. + +POMPEY Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir. But yet, +sir, I would prove-- + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, +Thou wilt prove his.--Take him to prison, officer. +Correction and instruction must both work +Ere this rude beast will profit. + +ELBOW He must before the Deputy, sir; he has given +him warning. The Deputy cannot abide a whoremaster. +If he be a whoremonger and comes before +him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +That we were all, as some would seem to be, +From our faults, as faults from seeming, free. + +ELBOW His neck will come to your waist--a cord, sir. + +[Enter Lucio.] + + +POMPEY I spy comfort, I cry bail. Here's a gentleman +and a friend of mine. + +LUCIO How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of +Caesar? Art thou led in triumph? What, is there +none of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, +to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket +and extracting it clutched? What reply, ha? What +sayst thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is 't not +drowned i' th' last rain, ha? What sayst thou, trot? Is +the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad +and few words? Or how? The trick of it? + +DUKE, [as Friar, aside] Still thus, and thus; still worse. + +LUCIO, [to Pompey] How doth my dear morsel, thy +mistress? Procures she still, ha? + +POMPEY Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and +she is herself in the tub. + +LUCIO Why, 'tis good. It is the right of it. It must be so. +Ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd, an +unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to +prison, Pompey? + +POMPEY Yes, faith, sir. + +LUCIO Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell. Go say I +sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? Or how? + +ELBOW For being a bawd, for being a bawd. + +LUCIO Well, then, imprison him. If imprisonment be +the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he, +doubtless, and of antiquity too. Bawd born.-- +Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison, +Pompey. You will turn good husband now, +Pompey; you will keep the house. + +POMPEY I hope, sir, your good Worship will be my bail. + +LUCIO No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the +wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage. +If you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is +the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey.--Bless you, friar. + +DUKE, [as Friar] And you. + +LUCIO, [to Pompey] Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, +ha? + +ELBOW, [to Pompey] Come your ways, sir, come. + +POMPEY, [to Lucio] You will not bail me, then, sir? + +LUCIO Then, Pompey, nor now.--What news abroad, +friar? What news? + +ELBOW, [to Pompey] Come your ways, sir, come. + +LUCIO Go to kennel, Pompey, go. +[Elbow, Pompey, and Officers exit.] +What news, friar, of the Duke? + +DUKE, [as Friar] I know none. Can you tell me of any? + +LUCIO Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; +other some, he is in Rome. But where is he, think +you? + +DUKE, [as Friar] I know not where, but wheresoever, I +wish him well. + +LUCIO It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal +from the state and usurp the beggary he was never +born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence. +He puts transgression to 't. + +DUKE, [as Friar] He does well in 't. + +LUCIO A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm +in him. Something too crabbed that way, friar. + +DUKE, [as Friar] It is too general a vice, and severity +must cure it. + +LUCIO Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; +it is well allied, but it is impossible to extirp it quite, +friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say +this Angelo was not made by man and woman after +this downright way of creation. Is it true, think +you? + +DUKE, [as Friar] How should he be made, then? + +LUCIO Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, +that he was begot between two stockfishes. But it is +certain that when he makes water, his urine is +congealed ice; that I know to be true. And he is a +motion generative, that's infallible. + +DUKE, [as Friar] You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace. + +LUCIO Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the +rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a +man! Would the duke that is absent have done this? +Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting +a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the +nursing a thousand. He had some feeling of the +sport, he knew the service, and that instructed him +to mercy. + +DUKE, [as Friar] I never heard the absent duke much +detected for women. He was not inclined that way. + +LUCIO O, sir, you are deceived. + +DUKE, [as Friar] 'Tis not possible. + +LUCIO Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty; +and his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The +Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too, +that let me inform you. + +DUKE, [as Friar] You do him wrong, surely. + +LUCIO Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the +Duke, and I believe I know the cause of his +withdrawing. + +DUKE, [as Friar] What, I prithee, might be the cause? + +LUCIO No, pardon. 'Tis a secret must be locked within +the teeth and the lips. But this I can let you +understand: the greater file of the subject held the +Duke to be wise. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Wise? Why, no question but he was. + +LUCIO A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Either this is envy in you, folly, or +mistaking. The very stream of his life and the +business he hath helmed must, upon a warranted +need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be +but testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he +shall appear to the envious a scholar, a statesman, +and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskillfully. Or, +if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in +your malice. + +LUCIO Sir, I know him, and I love him. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Love talks with better knowledge, and +knowledge with dearer love. + +LUCIO Come, sir, I know what I know. + +DUKE, [as Friar] I can hardly believe that, since you +know not what you speak. But if ever the Duke +return, as our prayers are he may, let me desire you +to make your answer before him. If it be honest you +have spoke, you have courage to maintain it. I am +bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name? + +LUCIO Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke. + +DUKE, [as Friar] He shall know you better, sir, if I may +live to report you. + +LUCIO I fear you not. + +DUKE, [as Friar] O, you hope the Duke will return no +more, or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. +But indeed I can do you little harm; you'll +forswear this again. + +LUCIO I'll be hanged first. Thou art deceived in me, +friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio +die tomorrow or no? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Why should he die, sir? + +LUCIO Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would +the Duke we talk of were returned again. This +ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with +continency. Sparrows must not build in his house +eaves, because they are lecherous. The Duke yet +would have dark deeds darkly answered. He would +never bring them to light Would he were returned. +Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing. +Farewell, good friar. I prithee pray for me. The +Duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on +Fridays. He's now past it, yet--and I say to thee-- +he would mouth with a beggar though she smelt +brown bread and garlic. Say that I said so. Farewell. +[He exits.] + +DUKE +No might nor greatness in mortality +Can censure scape. Back-wounding calumny +The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong +Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? +But who comes here? + +[Enter Escalus, Provost, Officers, and Mistress +Overdone, a Bawd.] + + +ESCALUS, [to Officers] Go, away with her to prison. + +BAWD Good my lord, be good to me. Your Honor is +accounted a merciful man, good my lord. + +ESCALUS Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit +in the same kind? This would make mercy +swear and play the tyrant. + +PROVOST A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it +please your Honor. + +BAWD, [to Escalus] My lord, this is one Lucio's information +against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was +with child by him in the Duke's time; he promised +her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old +come Philip and Jacob. I have kept it myself, and see +how he goes about to abuse me. + +ESCALUS That fellow is a fellow of much license. Let +him be called before us. Away with her to prison.-- +Go to, no more words. [Officers exit with Bawd.] +Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered. +Claudio must die tomorrow. Let him be furnished +with divines and have all charitable preparation. If +my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so +with him. + +PROVOST So please you, this friar hath been with him, +and advised him for th' entertainment of death. + +ESCALUS Good even, good father. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Bliss and goodness on you. + +ESCALUS Of whence are you? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Not of this country, though my chance is now +To use it for my time. I am a brother +Of gracious order, late come from the See +In special business from his Holiness. + +ESCALUS What news abroad i' th' world? + +DUKE, [as Friar] None but that there is so great a fever +on goodness that the dissolution of it must cure it. +Novelty is only in request, and it is as dangerous to +be aged in any kind of course as it is virtuous to be +constant in any undertaking. There is scarce truth +enough alive to make societies secure, but security +enough to make fellowships accursed. Much upon +this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news +is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I pray you, +sir, of what disposition was the Duke? + +ESCALUS One that, above all other strifes, contended +especially to know himself. + +DUKE, [as Friar] What pleasure was he given to? + +ESCALUS Rather rejoicing to see another merry than +merry at anything which professed to make him +rejoice--a gentleman of all temperance. But leave +we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove +prosperous, and let me desire to know how you find +Claudio prepared. I am made to understand that +you have lent him visitation. + +DUKE, [as Friar] He professes to have received no +sinister measure from his judge but most willingly +humbles himself to the determination of justice. Yet +had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his +frailty, many deceiving promises of life, which I, by +my good leisure, have discredited to him, and now +is he resolved to die. + +ESCALUS You have paid the heavens your function and +the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have +labored for the poor gentleman to the extremest +shore of my modesty, but my brother justice have I +found so severe that he hath forced me to tell him +he is indeed Justice. + +DUKE, [as Friar] If his own life answer the straitness of +his proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if +he chance to fail, he hath sentenced himself. + +ESCALUS I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Peace be with you. +[Escalus and Provost exit.] + + +DUKE +He who the sword of heaven will bear +Should be as holy as severe, +Pattern in himself to know, +Grace to stand, and virtue go; +More nor less to others paying +Than by self-offenses weighing. +Shame to him whose cruel striking +Kills for faults of his own liking. +Twice treble shame on Angelo, +To weed my vice, and let his grow. +O, what may man within him hide, +Though angel on the outward side! +How may likeness made in crimes, +Making practice on the times, +To draw with idle spiders' strings +Most ponderous and substantial things. +Craft against vice I must apply. +With Angelo tonight shall lie +His old betrothed but despised. +So disguise shall, by th' disguised, +Pay with falsehood false exacting +And perform an old contracting. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Mariana, and Boy singing.] + +Song. + + + Take, O take those lips away, + That so sweetly were forsworn, + And those eyes, the break of day, + Lights that do mislead the morn. + But my kisses bring again, bring again, + Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain. + +[Enter Duke as a Friar.] + + +MARIANA, [to Boy] +Break off thy song and haste thee quick away. +Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice +Hath often stilled my brawling discontent. +[Boy exits.] +I cry you mercy, sir, and well could wish +You had not found me here so musical. +Let me excuse me, and believe me so, +My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my woe. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +'Tis good, though music oft hath such a charm +To make bad good and good provoke to harm. +I pray you tell me, hath anybody inquired for me +here today? Much upon this time have I promised +here to meet. + +MARIANA You have not been inquired after. I have sat +here all day. + +[Enter Isabella.] + + +DUKE, [as Friar] I do constantly believe you. The time is +come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a +little. Maybe I will call upon you anon for some +advantage to yourself. + +MARIANA I am always bound to you. [She exits.] + +DUKE, [as Friar] Very well met, and welcome. +What is the news from this good deputy? + +ISABELLA +He hath a garden circummured with brick, +Whose western side is with a vineyard backed; +And to that vineyard is a planched gate +That makes his opening with this bigger key. +This other doth command a little door +Which from the vineyard to the garden leads. +There have I made my promise, upon the +Heavy middle of the night, to call upon him. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +But shall you on your knowledge find this way? + +ISABELLA +I have ta'en a due and wary note upon 't. +With whispering and most guilty diligence, +In action all of precept, he did show me +The way twice o'er. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Are there no other tokens +Between you 'greed concerning her observance? + +ISABELLA +No, none, but only a repair i' th' dark, +And that I have possessed him my most stay +Can be but brief, for I have made him know +I have a servant comes with me along +That stays upon me, whose persuasion is +I come about my brother. + +DUKE, [as Friar] 'Tis well borne up. +I have not yet made known to Mariana +A word of this.--What ho, within; come forth. + +[Enter Mariana.] + +[To Mariana.] I pray you be acquainted with this +maid. +She comes to do you good. + +ISABELLA I do desire the like. + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Mariana] +Do you persuade yourself that I respect you? + +MARIANA +Good friar, I know you do, and have found it. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Take then this your companion by the hand, +Who hath a story ready for your ear. +I shall attend your leisure. But make haste. +The vaporous night approaches. + +MARIANA, [to Isabella] Will 't please you walk aside? +[Isabella and Mariana exit.] + +DUKE +O place and greatness, millions of false eyes +Are stuck upon thee; volumes of report +Run with these false, and, most contrarious, quest +Upon thy doings; thousand escapes of wit +Make thee the father of their idle dream +And rack thee in their fancies. + +[Enter Mariana and Isabella.] + + +DUKE, [as Friar] Welcome. How agreed? + +ISABELLA +She'll take the enterprise upon her, father, +If you advise it. + +DUKE, [as Friar] It is not my consent +But my entreaty too. + +ISABELLA, [to Mariana] Little have you to say +When you depart from him, but, soft and low, +"Remember now my brother." + +MARIANA Fear me not. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all. +He is your husband on a precontract. +To bring you thus together 'tis no sin, +Sith that the justice of your title to him +Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go. +Our corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Provost, Pompey, and Officer.] + + +PROVOST Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man's +head? + +POMPEY If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be +a married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never +cut off a woman's head. + +PROVOST Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield +me a direct answer. Tomorrow morning are to die +Claudio and Barnardine. Here is in our prison a +common executioner, who in his office lacks a +helper. If you will take it on you to assist him, it +shall redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall +have your full time of imprisonment and your +deliverance with an unpitied whipping, for you have +been a notorious bawd. + +POMPEY Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of +mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful +hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction +from my fellow partner. + +PROVOST What ho, Abhorson!--Where's Abhorson +there? + +[Enter Abhorson.] + + +ABHORSON Do you call, sir? + +PROVOST Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you tomorrow +in your execution. If you think it meet, compound +with him by the year and let him abide here +with you; if not, use him for the present and dismiss +him. He cannot plead his estimation with you; he +hath been a bawd. + +ABHORSON A bawd, sir? Fie upon him! He will discredit +our mystery. + +PROVOST Go to, sir; you weigh equally. A feather will +turn the scale. [He exits.] + +POMPEY Pray, sir, by your good favor--for surely, sir, a +good favor you have, but that you have a hanging +look--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery? + +ABHORSON Ay, sir, a mystery. + +POMPEY Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; +and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, +using painting, do prove my occupation a +mystery; but what mystery there should be in hanging, +if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine. + +ABHORSON Sir, it is a mystery. + +POMPEY Proof? + +ABHORSON Every true man's apparel fits your thief. If it +be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it +big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief +thinks it little enough. So every true man's apparel +fits your thief. + +[Enter Provost.] + + +PROVOST Are you agreed? + +POMPEY Sir, I will serve him, for I do find your hangman +is a more penitent trade than your bawd. He +doth oftener ask forgiveness. + +PROVOST, [to Abhorson] You, sirrah, provide your block +and your axe tomorrow, four o'clock. + +ABHORSON, [to Pompey] Come on, bawd. I will instruct +thee in my trade. Follow. + +POMPEY I do desire to learn, sir; and I hope, if you have +occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find +me yare. For truly, sir, for your kindness, I owe +you a good turn. [Pompey and Abhorson exit.] + +PROVOST, [to Officer] +Call hither Barnardine and Claudio. +[Officer exits.] +Th' one has my pity; not a jot the other, +Being a murderer, though he were my brother. + +[Enter Claudio, with Officer.] + +Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death. +'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight tomorrow +Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine? + +CLAUDIO +As fast locked up in sleep as guiltless labor +When it lies starkly in the traveler's bones. +He will not wake. + +PROVOST Who can do good on him? +Well, go, prepare yourself. [Knock within.] But hark, +what noise?-- +Heaven give your spirits comfort. [Claudio exits, +with Officer.] [Knock within.] By and by!-- +I hope it is some pardon or reprieve +For the most gentle Claudio. + +[Enter Duke, as a Friar.] + +Welcome, father. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night +Envelop you, good provost. Who called here of late? + +PROVOST +None since the curfew rung. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Not Isabel? + +PROVOST No. + +DUKE, [as Friar] They will, then, ere 't be long. + +PROVOST What comfort is for Claudio? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +There's some in hope. + +PROVOST It is a bitter deputy. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Not so, not so. His life is paralleled +Even with the stroke and line of his great justice. +He doth with holy abstinence subdue +That in himself which he spurs on his power +To qualify in others. Were he mealed with that +Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous, +But this being so, he's just. [Knock within.] Now are +they come. [Provost exits.] +This is a gentle provost. Seldom when +The steeled jailer is the friend of men. + +[Enter Provost. Knocking continues.] + +How now, what noise? That spirit's possessed with +haste +That wounds th' unsisting postern with these strokes. + +PROVOST +There he must stay until the officer +Arise to let him in. He is called up. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Have you no countermand for Claudio yet, +But he must die tomorrow? + +PROVOST None, sir, none. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +As near the dawning, provost, as it is, +You shall hear more ere morning. + +PROVOST Happily +You something know, yet I believe there comes +No countermand. No such example have we. +Besides, upon the very siege of justice +Lord Angelo hath to the public ear +Professed the contrary. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +This is his Lordship's man. + +DUKE, [as Friar] And here comes Claudio's pardon. + +MESSENGER, [giving Provost a paper] My lord hath sent +you this note, and by me this further charge: that +you swerve not from the smallest article of it, +neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. +Good morrow, for, as I take it, it is almost day. + +PROVOST I shall obey him. [Provost reads message.] +[Messenger exits.] + +DUKE, [aside] +This is his pardon, purchased by such sin +For which the pardoner himself is in. +Hence hath offense his quick celerity +When it is borne in high authority. +When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended +That for the fault's love is th' offender friended. +[As Friar.] Now, sir, what news? + +PROVOST I told you: Lord Angelo, belike thinking me +remiss in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted +putting-on, methinks strangely; for he hath +not used it before. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Pray you let's hear. + +PROVOST, [reads the letter.] +Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let Claudio +be executed by four of the clock, and in the afternoon +Barnardine. For my better satisfaction, let me have +Claudio's head sent me by five. Let this be duly +performed with a thought that more depends on it +than we must yet deliver. Thus fail not to do your +office, as you will answer it at your peril. +What say you to this, sir? + +DUKE, [as Friar] What is that Barnardine who is to be +executed in th' afternoon? + +PROVOST A Bohemian born, but here nursed up and +bred; one that is a prisoner nine years old. + +DUKE, [as Friar] How came it that the absent duke had +not either delivered him to his liberty, or executed +him? I have heard it was ever his manner to do so. + +PROVOST His friends still wrought reprieves for him; +and indeed his fact, till now in the government of +Lord Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof. + +DUKE, [as Friar] It is now apparent? + +PROVOST Most manifest, and not denied by himself. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Hath he borne himself penitently in +prison? How seems he to be touched? + +PROVOST A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully +but as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and +fearless of what's past, present, or to come; insensible +of mortality and desperately mortal. + +DUKE, [as Friar] He wants advice. + +PROVOST He will hear none. He hath evermore had the +liberty of the prison; give him leave to escape +hence, he would not. Drunk many times a day, if not +many days entirely drunk. We have very oft awaked +him, as if to carry him to execution, and showed +him a seeming warrant for it. It hath not moved him +at all. + +DUKE, [as Friar] More of him anon. There is written in +your brow, provost, honesty and constancy; if I read +it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me. But in the +boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard. +Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is +no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo, who hath +sentenced him. To make you understand this in a +manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite, for +the which you are to do me both a present and a +dangerous courtesy. + +PROVOST Pray, sir, in what? + +DUKE, [as Friar] In the delaying death. + +PROVOST Alack, how may I do it, having the hour +limited, and an express command, under penalty, +to deliver his head in the view of Angelo? I may +make my case as Claudio's, to cross this in the +smallest. + +DUKE, [as Friar] By the vow of mine order I warrant +you, if my instructions may be your guide. Let this +Barnardine be this morning executed and his head +borne to Angelo. + +PROVOST Angelo hath seen them both and will discover +the favor. + +DUKE, [as Friar] O, death's a great disguiser, and you +may add to it. Shave the head and tie the beard, and +say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bared +before his death. You know the course is common. +If anything fall to you upon this, more than thanks +and good fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I +will plead against it with my life. + +PROVOST Pardon me, good father, it is against my oath. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Were you sworn to the Duke or to the +Deputy? + +PROVOST To him and to his substitutes. + +DUKE, [as Friar] You will think you have made no +offense if the Duke avouch the justice of your +dealing? + +PROVOST But what likelihood is in that? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Not a resemblance, but a certainty; yet +since I see you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, +nor persuasion can with ease attempt you, I will +go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of +you. Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the +Duke. [He shows the Provost a paper.] You know the +character, I doubt not, and the signet is not strange +to you. + +PROVOST I know them both. + +DUKE, [as Friar] The contents of this is the return of the +Duke; you shall anon overread it at your pleasure, +where you shall find within these two days he will +be here. This is a thing that Angelo knows not, for +he this very day receives letters of strange tenor, +perchance of the Duke's death, perchance entering +into some monastery, but by chance nothing of +what is writ. Look, th' unfolding star calls up the +shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how +these things should be. All difficulties are but easy +when they are known. Call your executioner, and +off with Barnardine's head. I will give him a present +shrift, and advise him for a better place. Yet you are +amazed, but this shall absolutely resolve you. +[He gives the Provost the paper.] +Come away; it is almost clear dawn. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Pompey.] + + +POMPEY I am as well acquainted here as I was in our +house of profession. One would think it were Mistress +Overdone's own house, for here be many of +her old customers. First, here's young Master Rash. +He's in for a commodity of brown paper and old +ginger, ninescore and seventeen pounds, of which +he made five marks ready money. Marry, then +ginger was not much in request, for the old women +were all dead. Then is there here one Master Caper, +at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some +four suits of peach-colored satin, which now +peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young +Dizzy and young Master Deep-vow, and Master +Copper-spur and Master Starve-lackey the rapier-and-dagger +man, and young Drop-heir that killed +lusty Pudding, and Master Forth-light the tilter, and +brave Master Shoe-tie the great traveler, and wild +Half-can that stabbed Pots, and I think forty more, +all great doers in our trade, and are now "for the +Lord's sake." + +[Enter Abhorson.] + + +ABHORSON Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. + +POMPEY, [calling] Master Barnardine, you must rise +and be hanged, Master Barnardine. + +ABHORSON, [calling] What ho, Barnardine! + +BARNARDINE, [within] A pox o' your throats! Who makes +that noise there? What are you? + +POMPEY, [calling to Barnardine offstage] Your friends, +sir, the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise +and be put to death. + +BARNARDINE, [within] Away, you rogue, away! I am +sleepy. + +ABHORSON, [to Pompey] Tell him he must awake, and +that quickly too. + +POMPEY, [calling] Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till +you are executed, and sleep afterwards. + +ABHORSON Go in to him, and fetch him out. + +POMPEY He is coming, sir, he is coming. I hear his +straw rustle. + +ABHORSON Is the axe upon the block, sirrah? + +POMPEY Very ready, sir. + +[Enter Barnardine.] + + +BARNARDINE How now, Abhorson? What's the news +with you? + +ABHORSON Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into +your prayers, for, look you, the warrant's come. + +BARNARDINE You rogue, I have been drinking all night. +I am not fitted for 't. + +POMPEY O, the better, sir, for he that drinks all night +and is hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the +sounder all the next day. + +[Enter Duke, as a Friar.] + + +ABHORSON, [to Barnardine] Look you, sir, here comes +your ghostly father. Do we jest now, think you? + +DUKE, [as Friar, to Barnardine] Sir, induced by my +charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I +am come to advise you, comfort you, and pray with +you. + +BARNARDINE Friar, not I. I have been drinking hard all +night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or +they shall beat out my brains with billets. I will not +consent to die this day, that's certain. + +DUKE, [as Friar] O, sir, you must. And therefore I +beseech you look forward on the journey you shall +go. + +BARNARDINE I swear I will not die today for any man's +persuasion. + +DUKE, [as Friar] But hear you-- + +BARNARDINE Not a word. If you have anything to say to +me, come to my ward, for thence will not I today. +[He exits.] + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Unfit to live or die. O gravel heart! +After him, fellows; bring him to the block. +[Abhorson and Pompey exit.] + +[Enter Provost.] + + +PROVOST +Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +A creature unprepared, unmeet for death, +And to transport him in the mind he is +Were damnable. + +PROVOST Here in the prison, father, +There died this morning of a cruel fever +One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate, +A man of Claudio's years, his beard and head +Just of his color. What if we do omit +This reprobate till he were well inclined, +And satisfy the Deputy with the visage +Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! +Dispatch it presently. The hour draws on +Prefixed by Angelo. See this be done +And sent according to command, whiles I +Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die. + +PROVOST +This shall be done, good father, presently. +But Barnardine must die this afternoon, +And how shall we continue Claudio, +To save me from the danger that might come +If he were known alive? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Let this be done: +Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and +Claudio. +Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting +To yonder generation, you shall find +Your safety manifested. + +PROVOST I am your free dependent. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo. +[Provost exits.] + +DUKE +Now will I write letters to Angelo-- +The Provost he shall bear them--whose contents +Shall witness to him I am near at home +And that by great injunctions I am bound +To enter publicly. Him I'll desire +To meet me at the consecrated fount +A league below the city; and from thence, +By cold gradation and well-balanced form, +We shall proceed with Angelo. + +[Enter Provost, carrying a head.] + + +PROVOST +Here is the head. I'll carry it myself. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Convenient is it. Make a swift return, +For I would commune with you of such things +That want no ear but yours. + +PROVOST I'll make all speed. +[He exits.] + +ISABELLA, [within] Peace, ho, be here. + +DUKE +The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know +If yet her brother's pardon be come hither. +But I will keep her ignorant of her good +To make her heavenly comforts of despair +When it is least expected. + +[Enter Isabella.] + + +ISABELLA Ho, by your leave. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter. + +ISABELLA +The better, given me by so holy a man. +Hath yet the Deputy sent my brother's pardon? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +He hath released him, Isabel, from the world. +His head is off, and sent to Angelo. + +ISABELLA +Nay, but it is not so. + +DUKE, [as Friar] It is no other. +Show your wisdom, daughter, in your close patience. + +ISABELLA +O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes! + +DUKE, [as Friar] +You shall not be admitted to his sight. + +ISABELLA +Unhappy Claudio, wretched Isabel, +Injurious world, most damned Angelo! + +DUKE, [as Friar] +This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot. +Forbear it, therefore; give your cause to heaven. +Mark what I say, which you shall find +By every syllable a faithful verity. +The Duke comes home tomorrow--nay, dry your +eyes. +One of our convent, and his confessor, +Gives me this instance. Already he hath carried +Notice to Escalus and Angelo, +Who do prepare to meet him at the gates, +There to give up their power. If you can, pace your +wisdom +In that good path that I would wish it go, +And you shall have your bosom on this wretch, +Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart, +And general honor. + +ISABELLA I am directed by you. + +DUKE, [as Friar, showing her a paper] +This letter, then, to Friar Peter give. +'Tis that he sent me of the Duke's return. +Say, by this token, I desire his company +At Mariana's house tonight. Her cause and yours +I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you +Before the Duke, and to the head of Angelo +Accuse him home and home. For my poor self, +I am combined by a sacred vow +And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter. +[He hands her the paper.] +Command these fretting waters from your eyes +With a light heart. Trust not my holy order +If I pervert your course.--Who's here? + +[Enter Lucio.] + + +LUCIO Good even, friar, where's the Provost? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Not within, sir. + +LUCIO O, pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see +thine eyes so red. Thou must be patient. I am fain to +dine and sup with water and bran. I dare not for my +head fill my belly. One fruitful meal would set me to +'t. But they say the Duke will be here tomorrow. By +my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother. If the old +fantastical duke of dark corners had been at home, +he had lived. [Isabella exits.] + +DUKE, [as Friar] Sir, the Duke is marvelous little beholding +to your reports, but the best is, he lives not +in them. + +LUCIO Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so well as I do. +He's a better woodman than thou tak'st him for. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare +you well. + +LUCIO Nay, tarry, I'll go along with thee. I can tell thee +pretty tales of the Duke. + +DUKE, [as Friar] You have told me too many of him +already, sir, if they be true; if not true, none were +enough. + +LUCIO I was once before him for getting a wench with +child. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Did you such a thing? + +LUCIO Yes, marry, did I, but I was fain to forswear it. +They would else have married me to the rotten +medlar. + +DUKE, [as Friar] Sir, your company is fairer than honest. +Rest you well. + +LUCIO By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end. If +bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it. +Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr. I shall stick. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Angelo and Escalus.] + + +ESCALUS Every letter he hath writ hath disvouched +other. + +ANGELO In most uneven and distracted manner. His +actions show much like to madness. Pray heaven his +wisdom be not tainted. And why meet him at the +gates and deliver our authorities there? + +ESCALUS I guess not. + +ANGELO And why should we proclaim it in an hour +before his entering, that if any crave redress of +injustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the +street? + +ESCALUS He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch +of complaints, and to deliver us from devices +hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand +against us. + +ANGELO Well, I beseech you let it be proclaimed. +Betimes i' th' morn, I'll call you at your house. Give +notice to such men of sort and suit as are to meet +him. + +ESCALUS I shall, sir. Fare you well. + +ANGELO Good night. [Escalus exits.] +This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant +And dull to all proceedings. A deflowered maid, +And by an eminent body that enforced +The law against it. But that her tender shame +Will not proclaim against her maiden loss, +How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no, +For my authority bears of a credent bulk +That no particular scandal once can touch +But it confounds the breather. He should have lived, +Save that his riotous youth with dangerous sense +Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge +By so receiving a dishonored life +With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had lived. +Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, +Nothing goes right. We would, and we would not. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Duke and Friar Peter.] + + +DUKE, [giving the Friar papers.] +These letters at fit time deliver me. +The Provost knows our purpose and our plot. +The matter being afoot, keep your instruction +And hold you ever to our special drift, +Though sometimes you do blench from this to that +As cause doth minister. Go call at Flavius' house +And tell him where I stay. Give the like notice +To Valencius, Rowland, and to Crassus, +And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate. +But send me Flavius first. + +FRIAR PETER It shall be speeded well. [He exits.] + +[Enter Varrius.] + + +DUKE +I thank thee, Varrius. Thou hast made good haste. +Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends +Will greet us here anon. My gentle Varrius. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Isabella and Mariana.] + + +ISABELLA +To speak so indirectly I am loath. +I would say the truth, but to accuse him so +That is your part; yet I am advised to do it, +He says, to veil full purpose. + +MARIANA Be ruled by him. + +ISABELLA +Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure +He speak against me on the adverse side, +I should not think it strange, for 'tis a physic +That's bitter to sweet end. + +MARIANA +I would Friar Peter-- + +[Enter Friar Peter.] + + +ISABELLA O peace, the Friar is come. + +FRIAR PETER +Come, I have found you out a stand most fit, +Where you may have such vantage on the Duke +He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets +sounded. +The generous and gravest citizens +Have hent the gates, and very near upon +The Duke is entering. Therefore hence, away. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Escalus, Lucio, +Provost, Officers, and Citizens at several doors.] + + +DUKE, [to Angelo] +My very worthy cousin, fairly met. +[To Escalus.] Our old and faithful friend, we are +glad to see you. + +ANGELO, ESCALUS +Happy return be to your royal Grace. + +DUKE +Many and hearty thankings to you both. +We have made inquiry of you, and we hear +Such goodness of your justice that our soul +Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, +Forerunning more requital. + +ANGELO You make my bonds still greater. + +DUKE +O, your desert speaks loud, and I should wrong it +To lock it in the wards of covert bosom +When it deserves with characters of brass +A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time +And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand +And let the subject see, to make them know +That outward courtesies would fain proclaim +Favors that keep within.--Come, Escalus, +You must walk by us on our other hand. +And good supporters are you. + +[Enter Friar Peter and Isabella.] + + +FRIAR PETER, [to Isabella] +Now is your time. Speak loud, and kneel before him. + +ISABELLA, [kneeling] +Justice, O royal duke. Vail your regard +Upon a wronged--I would fain have said, a maid. +O worthy prince, dishonor not your eye +By throwing it on any other object +Till you have heard me in my true complaint +And given me justice, justice, justice, justice. + +DUKE +Relate your wrongs. In what, by whom? Be brief. +Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice. +Reveal yourself to him. + +ISABELLA O worthy duke, +You bid me seek redemption of the devil. +Hear me yourself, for that which I must speak +Must either punish me, not being believed, +Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me, +here. + +ANGELO +My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm. +She hath been a suitor to me for her brother +Cut off by course of justice. + +ISABELLA, [standing] By course of justice! + +ANGELO +And she will speak most bitterly and strange. + +ISABELLA +Most strange, but yet most truly will I speak. +That Angelo's forsworn, is it not strange? +That Angelo's a murderer, is 't not strange? +That Angelo is an adulterous thief, +An hypocrite, a virgin-violator, +Is it not strange, and strange? + +DUKE Nay, it is ten times strange. + +ISABELLA +It is not truer he is Angelo +Than this is all as true as it is strange. +Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truth +To th' end of reck'ning. + +DUKE Away with her. Poor soul, +She speaks this in th' infirmity of sense. + +ISABELLA +O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest +There is another comfort than this world, +That thou neglect me not with that opinion +That I am touched with madness. Make not +impossible +That which but seems unlike. 'Tis not impossible +But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground, +May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute +As Angelo. Even so may Angelo, +In all his dressings, caracts, titles, forms, +Be an archvillain. Believe it, royal prince, +If he be less, he's nothing, but he's more, +Had I more name for badness. + +DUKE By mine honesty, +If she be mad--as I believe no other-- +Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, +Such a dependency of thing on thing, +As e'er I heard in madness. + +ISABELLA O gracious duke, +Harp not on that; nor do not banish reason +For inequality, but let your reason serve +To make the truth appear where it seems hid, +And hide the false seems true. + +DUKE Many that are not mad +Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you +say? + +ISABELLA +I am the sister of one Claudio, +Condemned upon the act of fornication +To lose his head, condemned by Angelo. +I, in probation of a sisterhood, +Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio +As then the messenger-- + +LUCIO, [to Duke] That's I, an 't like your Grace. +I came to her from Claudio and desired her +To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo +For her poor brother's pardon. + +ISABELLA, [to Duke] That's he indeed. + +DUKE, [to Lucio] +You were not bid to speak. + +LUCIO No, my good lord, +Nor wished to hold my peace. + +DUKE I wish you now, then. +Pray you take note of it, and when you have +A business for yourself, pray heaven you then +Be perfect. + +LUCIO I warrant your Honor. + +DUKE +The warrant's for yourself. Take heed to 't. + +ISABELLA +This gentleman told somewhat of my tale. + +LUCIO Right. + +DUKE +It may be right, but you are i' the wrong +To speak before your time.--Proceed. + +ISABELLA I went +To this pernicious caitiff deputy-- + +DUKE +That's somewhat madly spoken. + +ISABELLA Pardon it; +The phrase is to the matter. + +DUKE +Mended again. The matter; proceed. + +ISABELLA +In brief, to set the needless process by: +How I persuaded, how I prayed and kneeled, +How he refelled me, and how I replied-- +For this was of much length--the vile conclusion +I now begin with grief and shame to utter. +He would not, but by gift of my chaste body +To his concupiscible intemperate lust, +Release my brother; and after much debatement, +My sisterly remorse confutes mine honor, +And I did yield to him. But the next morn betimes, +His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant +For my poor brother's head. + +DUKE This is most likely! + +ISABELLA +O, that it were as like as it is true! + +DUKE +By heaven, fond wretch, thou know'st not what +thou speak'st, +Or else thou art suborned against his honor +In hateful practice. First, his integrity +Stands without blemish; next, it imports no reason +That with such vehemency he should pursue +Faults proper to himself. If he had so offended, +He would have weighed thy brother by himself +And not have cut him off. Someone hath set you on. +Confess the truth, and say by whose advice +Thou cam'st here to complain. + +ISABELLA And is this all? +Then, O you blessed ministers above, +Keep me in patience, and with ripened time +Unfold the evil which is here wrapped up +In countenance. Heaven shield your Grace from +woe, +As I, thus wronged, hence unbelieved go. + +DUKE +I know you'd fain be gone.--An officer! +[An Officer comes forward.] +To prison with her. Shall we thus permit +A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall +On him so near us? This needs must be a practice.-- +Who knew of your intent and coming hither? + +ISABELLA +One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick. +[Officer exits with Isabella.] + +DUKE +A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick? + +LUCIO +My lord, I know him. 'Tis a meddling friar. +I do not like the man. Had he been lay, my lord, +For certain words he spake against your Grace +In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly. + +DUKE +Words against me? This' a good friar, belike. +And to set on this wretched woman here +Against our substitute! Let this friar be found. + +LUCIO +But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar, +I saw them at the prison. A saucy friar, +A very scurvy fellow. + +FRIAR PETER, [to Duke] Blessed be your royal Grace. +I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard +Your royal ear abused. First hath this woman +Most wrongfully accused your substitute, +Who is as free from touch or soil with her +As she from one ungot. + +DUKE We did believe no less. +Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of? + +FRIAR PETER +I know him for a man divine and holy, +Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler, +As he's reported by this gentleman; +And on my trust, a man that never yet +Did, as he vouches, misreport your Grace. + +LUCIO +My lord, most villainously, believe it. + +FRIAR PETER +Well, he in time may come to clear himself; +But at this instant he is sick, my lord, +Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request, +Being come to knowledge that there was complaint +Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hither +To speak as from his mouth, what he doth know +Is true and false, and what he with his oath +And all probation will make up full clear +Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman, +To justify this worthy nobleman, +So vulgarly and personally accused, +Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes +Till she herself confess it. + +DUKE Good friar, let's hear it.-- +Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? +O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!-- +Give us some seats.--Come, cousin Angelo, +In this I'll be impartial. Be you judge +Of your own cause. [Duke and Angelo are seated.] + +[Enter Mariana, veiled.] + +Is this the witness, friar? +First, let her show her face, and after speak. + +MARIANA +Pardon, my lord, I will not show my face +Until my husband bid me. + +DUKE What, are you married? + +MARIANA No, my lord. + +DUKE Are you a maid? + +MARIANA No, my lord. + +DUKE A widow, then? + +MARIANA Neither, my lord. + +DUKE Why you are nothing, then, neither maid, widow, +nor wife? + +LUCIO My lord, she may be a punk, for many of them +are neither maid, widow, nor wife. + +DUKE Silence that fellow. I would he had some cause +to prattle for himself. + +LUCIO Well, my lord. + +MARIANA +My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married, +And I confess besides I am no maid. +I have known my husband, yet my husband +Knows not that ever he knew me. + +LUCIO He was drunk, then, my lord; it can be no better. + +DUKE For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so +too. + +LUCIO Well, my lord. + +DUKE +This is no witness for Lord Angelo. + +MARIANA Now I come to 't, my lord. +She that accuses him of fornication +In selfsame manner doth accuse my husband, +And charges him, my lord, with such a time +When, I'll depose, I had him in mine arms +With all th' effect of love. + +ANGELO Charges she more than me? + +MARIANA Not that I know. + +DUKE No? You say your husband. + +MARIANA +Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo, +Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body, +But knows, he thinks, that he knows Isabel's. + +ANGELO +This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face. + +MARIANA +My husband bids me. Now I will unmask. +[She removes her veil.] +This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, +Which once thou swor'st was worth the looking on. +This is the hand which, with a vowed contract, +Was fast belocked in thine. This is the body +That took away the match from Isabel +And did supply thee at thy garden house +In her imagined person. + +DUKE, [to Angelo] Know you this woman? + +LUCIO Carnally, she says. + +DUKE Sirrah, no more. + +LUCIO Enough, my lord. + +ANGELO +My lord, I must confess I know this woman, +And five years since there was some speech of +marriage +Betwixt myself and her, which was broke off, +Partly for that her promised proportions +Came short of composition, but in chief +For that her reputation was disvalued +In levity. Since which time of five years +I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, +Upon my faith and honor. + +MARIANA, [kneeling, to Duke] Noble prince, +As there comes light from heaven and words from +breath, +As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, +I am affianced this man's wife as strongly +As words could make up vows. And, my good lord, +But Tuesday night last gone in 's garden house +He knew me as a wife. As this is true, +Let me in safety raise me from my knees, +Or else forever be confixed here +A marble monument. + +ANGELO I did but smile till now. +Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice. +My patience here is touched. I do perceive +These poor informal women are no more +But instruments of some more mightier member +That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord, +To find this practice out. + +DUKE Ay, with my heart, +And punish them to your height of pleasure.-- +Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman, +Compact with her that's gone, think'st thou thy +oaths, +Though they would swear down each particular +saint, +Were testimonies against his worth and credit +That's sealed in approbation?--You, Lord Escalus, +Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains +To find out this abuse, whence 'tis derived. +[The Duke rises. Escalus is seated.] +There is another friar that set them on. +Let him be sent for. + +FRIAR PETER +Would he were here, my lord, for he indeed +Hath set the women on to this complaint; +Your provost knows the place where he abides, +And he may fetch him. + +DUKE, [to Provost] Go, do it instantly. +[Provost exits.] +[To Angelo.] And you, my noble and well-warranted +cousin, +Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, +Do with your injuries as seems you best +In any chastisement. I for a while +Will leave you; but stir not you till you have +Well determined upon these slanderers. + +ESCALUS My lord, we'll do it throughly. [Duke exits.] +Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar +Lodowick to be a dishonest person? + +LUCIO Cucullus non facit monachum, honest in nothing +but in his clothes, and one that hath spoke most +villainous speeches of the Duke. + +ESCALUS We shall entreat you to abide here till he +come, and enforce them against him. We shall find +this friar a notable fellow. + +LUCIO As any in Vienna, on my word. + +ESCALUS Call that same Isabel here once again. I would +speak with her. [An Attendant exits.] +[To Angelo.] Pray you, my lord, give me leave to +question. You shall see how I'll handle her. + +LUCIO Not better than he, by her own report. + +ESCALUS Say you? + +LUCIO Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, +she would sooner confess; perchance publicly she'll +be ashamed. + +ESCALUS I will go darkly to work with her. + +LUCIO That's the way, for women are light at midnight. + +[Enter Duke as a Friar, Provost, and Isabella, +with Officers.] + + +ESCALUS, [to Isabella] Come on, mistress. Here's a gentlewoman +denies all that you have said. + +LUCIO My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of, here +with the Provost. + +ESCALUS In very good time. Speak not you to him till +we call upon you. + +LUCIO Mum. + +ESCALUS, [to disguised Duke] Come, sir, did you set +these women on to slander Lord Angelo? They have +confessed you did. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +'Tis false. + +ESCALUS How? Know you where you are? + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Respect to your great place, and let the devil +Be sometime honored for his burning throne. +Where is the Duke? 'Tis he should hear me speak. + +ESCALUS +The Duke's in us, and we will hear you speak. +Look you speak justly. + +DUKE, [as Friar] +Boldly, at least.--But, O, poor souls, +Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox? +Good night to your redress. Is the Duke gone? +Then is your cause gone too. The Duke's unjust +Thus to retort your manifest appeal, +And put your trial in the villain's mouth +Which here you come to accuse. + +LUCIO +This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. + +ESCALUS, [to disguised Duke] +Why, thou unreverend and unhallowed friar, +Is 't not enough thou hast suborned these women +To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth +And in the witness of his proper ear, +To call him villain? And then to glance from him +To th' Duke himself, to tax him with injustice?-- +Take him hence. To th' rack with him. We'll touse +him +Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose. +What? "Unjust"? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Be not so hot. The Duke +Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he +Dare rack his own. His subject am I not, +Nor here provincial. My business in this state +Made me a looker-on here in Vienna, +Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble +Till it o'errun the stew. Laws for all faults, +But faults so countenanced that the strong statutes +Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, +As much in mock as mark. + +ESCALUS Slander to th' state! +Away with him to prison. + +ANGELO, [to Lucio] +What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio? +Is this the man that you did tell us of? + +LUCIO 'Tis he, my lord.--Come hither, Goodman Baldpate. +Do you know me? + +DUKE, [as Friar] I remember you, sir, by the sound of +your voice. I met you at the prison in the absence of +the Duke. + +LUCIO O, did you so? And do you remember what you +said of the Duke? + +DUKE, [as Friar] Most notedly, sir. + +LUCIO Do you so, sir? And was the Duke a fleshmonger, +a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to +be? + +DUKE, [as Friar] You must, sir, change persons with me +ere you make that my report. You indeed spoke so +of him, and much more, much worse. + +LUCIO O, thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by +the nose for thy speeches? + +DUKE, [as Friar] I protest I love the Duke as I love +myself. + +ANGELO Hark how the villain would close now, after +his treasonable abuses! + +ESCALUS Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. Away +with him to prison. Where is the Provost? [Provost +comes forward.] Away with him to prison. Lay bolts +enough upon him. Let him speak no more. Away +with those giglets too, and with the other confederate +companion. +[Provost seizes the disguised Duke.] + +DUKE, [as Friar] Stay, sir, stay awhile. + +ANGELO What, resists he?--Help him, Lucio. + +LUCIO, [to the disguised Duke] Come, sir, come, sir, +come, sir. Foh, sir! Why you bald-pated, lying rascal, +you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave's +visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting +face, and be hanged an hour! Will 't not off? +[He pulls off the friar's hood, and reveals the Duke.] +[Angelo and Escalus stand.] + +DUKE +Thou art the first knave that e'er mad'st a duke.-- +First, provost, let me bail these gentle three. +[To Lucio.] Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and +you +Must have a word anon.--Lay hold on him. + +LUCIO This may prove worse than hanging. + +DUKE, [to Escalus] +What you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down. +We'll borrow place of him. [To Angelo.] Sir, by your +leave. +Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence +That yet can do thee office? If thou hast, +Rely upon it till my tale be heard, +And hold no longer out. + +ANGELO O my dread lord, +I should be guiltier than my guiltiness +To think I can be undiscernible, +When I perceive your Grace, like power divine, +Hath looked upon my passes. Then, good prince, +No longer session hold upon my shame, +But let my trial be mine own confession. +Immediate sentence then and sequent death +Is all the grace I beg. + +DUKE Come hither, Mariana. +[Mariana stands and comes forward.] +[To Angelo.] Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this +woman? + +ANGELO I was, my lord. + +DUKE +Go take her hence and marry her instantly. +[To Friar Peter.] Do you the office, friar, which +consummate, +Return him here again.--Go with him, provost. +[Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Provost exit.] + +ESCALUS +My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonor +Than at the strangeness of it. + +DUKE Come hither, Isabel. +Your friar is now your prince. As I was then +Advertising and holy to your business, +Not changing heart with habit, I am still +Attorneyed at your service. + +ISABELLA O, give me pardon +That I, your vassal, have employed and pained +Your unknown sovereignty. + +DUKE You are pardoned, +Isabel. +And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. +Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart, +And you may marvel why I obscured myself, +Laboring to save his life, and would not rather +Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power +Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid, +It was the swift celerity of his death, +Which I did think with slower foot came on, +That brained my purpose. But peace be with him. +That life is better life past fearing death +Than that which lives to fear. Make it your comfort, +So happy is your brother. + +ISABELLA I do, my lord. + +[Enter Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Provost.] + + +DUKE +For this new-married man approaching here, +Whose salt imagination yet hath wronged +Your well-defended honor, you must pardon +For Mariana's sake. But as he adjudged your +brother-- +Being criminal in double violation +Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach +Thereon dependent for your brother's life-- +The very mercy of the law cries out +Most audible, even from his proper tongue, +"An Angelo for Claudio, death for death." +Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; +Like doth quit like, and measure still for +measure.-- +Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested, +Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee +vantage. +We do condemn thee to the very block +Where Claudio stooped to death, and with like +haste.-- +Away with him. + +MARIANA O my most gracious lord, +I hope you will not mock me with a husband. + +DUKE +It is your husband mocked you with a husband. +Consenting to the safeguard of your honor, +I thought your marriage fit. Else imputation, +For that he knew you, might reproach your life +And choke your good to come. For his possessions, +Although by confiscation they are ours, +We do instate and widow you with all +To buy you a better husband. + +MARIANA O my dear lord, +I crave no other nor no better man. + +DUKE +Never crave him. We are definitive. + +MARIANA, [kneeling] +Gentle my liege-- + +DUKE You do but lose your labor.-- +Away with him to death. [To Lucio.] Now, sir, to +you. + +MARIANA +O, my good lord.--Sweet Isabel, take my part. +Lend me your knees, and all my life to come +I'll lend you all my life to do you service. + +DUKE +Against all sense you do importune her. +Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact, +Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break +And take her hence in horror. + +MARIANA Isabel, +Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me, +Hold up your hands, say nothing. I'll speak all. +They say best men are molded out of faults, +And, for the most, become much more the better +For being a little bad. So may my husband. +O Isabel, will you not lend a knee? + +DUKE +He dies for Claudio's death. + +ISABELLA, [kneeling] Most bounteous sir, +Look, if it please you, on this man condemned +As if my brother lived. I partly think +A due sincerity governed his deeds +Till he did look on me. Since it is so, +Let him not die. My brother had but justice, +In that he did the thing for which he died. +For Angelo, +His act did not o'ertake his bad intent, +And must be buried but as an intent +That perished by the way. Thoughts are no subjects, +Intents but merely thoughts. + +MARIANA Merely, my lord. + +DUKE +Your suit's unprofitable. Stand up, I say. +[They stand.] +I have bethought me of another fault.-- +Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded +At an unusual hour? + +PROVOST It was commanded so. + +DUKE +Had you a special warrant for the deed? + +PROVOST +No, my good lord, it was by private message. + +DUKE +For which I do discharge you of your office. +Give up your keys. + +PROVOST Pardon me, noble lord. +I thought it was a fault, but knew it not, +Yet did repent me after more advice, +For testimony whereof, one in the prison +That should by private order else have died, +I have reserved alive. + +DUKE What's he? + +PROVOST His name is Barnardine. + +DUKE +I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. +Go fetch him hither. Let me look upon him. +[Provost exits.] + +ESCALUS, [to Angelo] +I am sorry one so learned and so wise +As you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared, +Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood +And lack of tempered judgment afterward. + +ANGELO +I am sorry that such sorrow I procure; +And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart +That I crave death more willingly than mercy. +'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it. + +[Enter Barnardine and Provost, Claudio, muffled, +and Juliet.] + + +DUKE, [to Provost] +Which is that Barnardine? + +PROVOST This, my lord. + +DUKE +There was a friar told me of this man.-- +Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul +That apprehends no further than this world, +And squar'st thy life according. Thou 'rt condemned. +But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all, +And pray thee take this mercy to provide +For better times to come.--Friar, advise him. +I leave him to your hand.--What muffled fellow's +that? + +PROVOST +This is another prisoner that I saved +Who should have died when Claudio lost his head, +As like almost to Claudio as himself. +[He unmuffles Claudio.] + +DUKE, [to Isabella] +If he be like your brother, for his sake +Is he pardoned; and for your lovely sake, +Give me your hand and say you will be mine, +He is my brother too. But fitter time for that. +By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe; +Methinks I see a quick'ning in his eye.-- +Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well. +Look that you love your wife, her worth worth +yours. +I find an apt remission in myself. +And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon. +[To Lucio.] You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a +coward, +One all of luxury, an ass, a madman. +Wherein have I so deserved of you +That you extol me thus? + +LUCIO Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the +trick. If you will hang me for it, you may, but I had +rather it would please you I might be whipped. + +DUKE Whipped first, sir, and hanged after.-- +Proclaim it, provost, round about the city, +If any woman wronged by this lewd fellow-- +As I have heard him swear himself there's one +Whom he begot with child--let her appear, +And he shall marry her. The nuptial finished, +Let him be whipped and hanged. + +LUCIO I beseech your Highness do not marry me to a +whore. Your Highness said even now I made you a +duke. Good my lord, do not recompense me in +making me a cuckold. + +DUKE +Upon mine honor, thou shalt marry her. +Thy slanders I forgive and therewithal +Remit thy other forfeits.--Take him to prison, +And see our pleasure herein executed. + +LUCIO Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, +whipping, and hanging. + +DUKE Slandering a prince deserves it. +[Officers take Lucio away.] +She, Claudio, that you wronged, look you restore.-- +Joy to you, Mariana.--Love her, Angelo. +I have confessed her, and I know her virtue.-- +Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness. +There's more behind that is more gratulate.-- +Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy. +We shall employ thee in a worthier place.-- +Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home +The head of Ragozine for Claudio's. +Th' offense pardons itself.--Dear Isabel, +I have a motion much imports your good, +Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, +What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.-- +So, bring us to our palace, where we'll show +What's yet behind that's meet you all should know. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/much-ado-about-nothing_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/much-ado-about-nothing_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4130ff5 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/much-ado-about-nothing_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4223 @@ +Much Ado About Nothing +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/much-ado-about-nothing/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +LEONATO, Governor of Messina +HERO, his daughter +BEATRICE, his niece +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Waiting gentlewomen to Hero: + MARGARET + URSULA +DON PEDRO, Prince of Aragon +COUNT CLAUDIO, a young lord from Florence +SIGNIOR BENEDICK, a gentleman from Padua +BALTHASAR +SIGNIOR ANTONIO +DON JOHN, Don Pedro's brother +Don John's followers: + BORACHIO + CONRADE +DOGBERRY, Master Constable in Messina +VERGES, Dogberry's partner +GEORGE SEACOAL, leader of the Watch +FIRST WATCHMAN +SECOND WATCHMAN +SEXTON +FRIAR FRANCIS +MESSENGER to Leonato +MESSENGER to Don Pedro +BOY +Musicians, Lords, Attendants, Son to Leonato's brother + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Leonato, Governor of Messina, Hero his daughter, +and Beatrice his niece, with a Messenger.] + + +LEONATO, [with a letter] I learn in this letter that Don +Pedro of Aragon comes this night to Messina. + +MESSENGER He is very near by this. He was not three +leagues off when I left him. + +LEONATO How many gentlemen have you lost in this +action? + +MESSENGER But few of any sort, and none of name. + +LEONATO A victory is twice itself when the achiever +brings home full numbers. I find here that Don +Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young +Florentine called Claudio. + +MESSENGER Much deserved on his part, and equally +remembered by Don Pedro. He hath borne himself +beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure +of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed better +bettered expectation than you must expect of me to +tell you how. + +LEONATO He hath an uncle here in Messina will be +very much glad of it. + +MESSENGER I have already delivered him letters, and +there appears much joy in him, even so much that +joy could not show itself modest enough without a +badge of bitterness. + +LEONATO Did he break out into tears? + +MESSENGER In great measure. + +LEONATO A kind overflow of kindness. There are no +faces truer than those that are so washed. How +much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at +weeping! + +BEATRICE I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned +from the wars or no? + +MESSENGER I know none of that name, lady. There +was none such in the army of any sort. + +LEONATO What is he that you ask for, niece? + +HERO My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua. + +MESSENGER O, he's returned, and as pleasant as ever +he was. + +BEATRICE He set up his bills here in Messina and +challenged Cupid at the flight, and my uncle's Fool, +reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid and +challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how +many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But +how many hath he killed? For indeed I promised to +eat all of his killing. + +LEONATO Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too +much, but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. + +MESSENGER He hath done good service, lady, in these +wars. + +BEATRICE You had musty victual, and he hath holp to +eat it. He is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an +excellent stomach. + +MESSENGER And a good soldier too, lady. + +BEATRICE And a good soldier to a lady, but what is he +to a lord? + +MESSENGER A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed +with all honorable virtues. + +BEATRICE It is so indeed. He is no less than a stuffed +man, but for the stuffing--well, we are all mortal. + +LEONATO You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is +a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and +her. They never meet but there's a skirmish of wit +between them. + +BEATRICE Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last +conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and +now is the whole man governed with one, so that if +he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him +bear it for a difference between himself and his +horse, for it is all the wealth that he hath left to +be known a reasonable creature. Who is his companion +now? He hath every month a new sworn +brother. + +MESSENGER Is 't possible? + +BEATRICE Very easily possible. He wears his faith but +as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the +next block. + +MESSENGER I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your +books. + +BEATRICE No. An he were, I would burn my study. But +I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no +young squarer now that will make a voyage with +him to the devil? + +MESSENGER He is most in the company of the right +noble Claudio. + +BEATRICE O Lord, he will hang upon him like a +disease! He is sooner caught than the pestilence, +and the taker runs presently mad. God help the +noble Claudio! If he have caught the Benedick, it +will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cured. + +MESSENGER I will hold friends with you, lady. + +BEATRICE Do, good friend. + +LEONATO You will never run mad, niece. + +BEATRICE No, not till a hot January. + +MESSENGER Don Pedro is approached. + +[Enter Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon, with Claudio, +Benedick, Balthasar, and John the Bastard.] + + +PRINCE Good Signior Leonato, are you come to meet +your trouble? The fashion of the world is to avoid +cost, and you encounter it. + +LEONATO Never came trouble to my house in the +likeness of your Grace, for trouble being gone, +comfort should remain, but when you depart from +me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave. + +PRINCE You embrace your charge too willingly. [Turning +to Hero.] I think this is your daughter. + +LEONATO Her mother hath many times told me so. + +BENEDICK Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? + +LEONATO Signior Benedick, no, for then were you a +child. + +PRINCE You have it full, Benedick. We may guess by +this what you are, being a man. Truly the lady +fathers herself.--Be happy, lady, for you are like +an honorable father. +[Leonato and the Prince move aside.] + +BENEDICK If Signior Leonato be her father, she would +not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, +as like him as she is. + +BEATRICE I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior +Benedick, nobody marks you. + +BENEDICK What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet +living? + +BEATRICE Is it possible disdain should die while she +hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? +Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come +in her presence. + +BENEDICK Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain +I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and +I would I could find in my heart that I had not a +hard heart, for truly I love none. + +BEATRICE A dear happiness to women. They would +else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I +thank God and my cold blood I am of your humor +for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow +than a man swear he loves me. + +BENEDICK God keep your Ladyship still in that mind, +so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate +scratched face. + +BEATRICE Scratching could not make it worse an +'twere such a face as yours were. + +BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. + +BEATRICE A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of +yours. + +BENEDICK I would my horse had the speed of your +tongue and so good a continuer, but keep your +way, i' God's name, I have done. + +BEATRICE You always end with a jade's trick. I know +you of old. +[Leonato and the Prince come forward.] + +PRINCE That is the sum of all, Leonato.--Signior +Claudio and Signior Benedick, my dear friend +Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him we shall stay +here at the least a month, and he heartily prays +some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear +he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart. + +LEONATO If you swear, my lord, you shall not be +forsworn. [To Don John.] Let me bid you welcome, +my lord, being reconciled to the Prince your brother, +I owe you all duty. + +DON JOHN I thank you. I am not of many words, but I +thank you. + +LEONATO Please it your Grace lead on? + +PRINCE Your hand, Leonato. We will go together. +[All exit except Benedick and Claudio.] + +CLAUDIO Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of +Signior Leonato? + +BENEDICK I noted her not, but I looked on her. + +CLAUDIO Is she not a modest young lady? + +BENEDICK Do you question me as an honest man +should do, for my simple true judgment? Or would +you have me speak after my custom, as being a +professed tyrant to their sex? + +CLAUDIO No, I pray thee, speak in sober judgment. + +BENEDICK Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a +high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too +little for a great praise. Only this commendation I +can afford her, that were she other than she is, she +were unhandsome, and being no other but as she is, +I do not like her. + +CLAUDIO Thou thinkest I am in sport. I pray thee tell +me truly how thou lik'st her. + +BENEDICK Would you buy her that you enquire after +her? + +CLAUDIO Can the world buy such a jewel? + +BENEDICK Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you +this with a sad brow? Or do you play the flouting +jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and +Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a +man take you to go in the song? + +CLAUDIO In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever +I looked on. + +BENEDICK I can see yet without spectacles, and I see +no such matter. There's her cousin, an she were not +possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in +beauty as the first of May doth the last of December. +But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have +you? + +CLAUDIO I would scarce trust myself, though I had +sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife. + +BENEDICK Is 't come to this? In faith, hath not the +world one man but he will wear his cap with +suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore +again? Go to, i' faith, an thou wilt needs thrust +thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh +away Sundays. Look, Don Pedro is returned to seek +you. + +[Enter Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon.] + + +PRINCE What secret hath held you here that you followed +not to Leonato's? + +BENEDICK I would your Grace would constrain me to +tell. + +PRINCE I charge thee on thy allegiance. + +BENEDICK You hear, Count Claudio, I can be secret as +a dumb man, I would have you think so, but on my +allegiance--mark you this, on my allegiance--he +is in love. With who? Now, that is your Grace's part. +Mark how short his answer is: with Hero, Leonato's +short daughter. + +CLAUDIO If this were so, so were it uttered. + +BENEDICK Like the old tale, my lord: "It is not so, nor +'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be +so." + +CLAUDIO If my passion change not shortly, God forbid +it should be otherwise. + +PRINCE Amen, if you love her, for the lady is very well +worthy. + +CLAUDIO You speak this to fetch me in, my lord. + +PRINCE By my troth, I speak my thought. + +CLAUDIO And in faith, my lord, I spoke mine. + +BENEDICK And by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I +spoke mine. + +CLAUDIO That I love her, I feel. + +PRINCE That she is worthy, I know. + +BENEDICK That I neither feel how she should be loved +nor know how she should be worthy is the opinion +that fire cannot melt out of me. I will die in it at the +stake. + +PRINCE Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the +despite of beauty. + +CLAUDIO And never could maintain his part but in the +force of his will. + +BENEDICK That a woman conceived me, I thank her; +that she brought me up, I likewise give her most +humble thanks. But that I will have a recheat +winded in my forehead or hang my bugle in an +invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me. +Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust +any, I will do myself the right to trust none. And the +fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a +bachelor. + +PRINCE I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love. + +BENEDICK With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, +my lord, not with love. Prove that ever I lose more +blood with love than I will get again with drinking, +pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and +hang me up at the door of a brothel house for the +sign of blind Cupid. + +PRINCE Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou +wilt prove a notable argument. + +BENEDICK If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and +shoot at me, and he that hits me, let him be clapped +on the shoulder and called Adam. + +PRINCE Well, as time shall try. +In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke. + +BENEDICK The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible +Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set +them in my forehead, and let me be vilely painted, +and in such great letters as they write "Here is good +horse to hire" let them signify under my sign "Here +you may see Benedick the married man." + +CLAUDIO If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be +horn-mad. + +PRINCE Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in +Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly. + +BENEDICK I look for an earthquake too, then. + +PRINCE Well, you will temporize with the hours. In the +meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to Leonato's. +Commend me to him, and tell him I will not +fail him at supper, for indeed he hath made great +preparation. + +BENEDICK I have almost matter enough in me for such +an embassage, and so I commit you-- + +CLAUDIO To the tuition of God. From my house, if I had +it-- + +PRINCE The sixth of July. Your loving friend, +Benedick. + +BENEDICK Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your +discourse is sometimes guarded with fragments, +and the guards are but slightly basted on neither. +Ere you flout old ends any further, examine your +conscience. And so I leave you. [He exits.] + +CLAUDIO +My liege, your Highness now may do me good. + +PRINCE +My love is thine to teach. Teach it but how, +And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn +Any hard lesson that may do thee good. + +CLAUDIO +Hath Leonato any son, my lord? + +PRINCE +No child but Hero; she's his only heir. +Dost thou affect her, Claudio? + +CLAUDIO O, my lord, +When you went onward on this ended action, +I looked upon her with a soldier's eye, +That liked, but had a rougher task in hand +Than to drive liking to the name of love. +But now I am returned and that war thoughts +Have left their places vacant, in their rooms +Come thronging soft and delicate desires, +All prompting me how fair young Hero is, +Saying I liked her ere I went to wars. + +PRINCE +Thou wilt be like a lover presently +And tire the hearer with a book of words. +If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it, +And I will break with her and with her father, +And thou shalt have her. Was 't not to this end +That thou began'st to twist so fine a story? + +CLAUDIO +How sweetly you do minister to love, +That know love's grief by his complexion! +But lest my liking might too sudden seem, +I would have salved it with a longer treatise. + +PRINCE +What need the bridge much broader than the flood? +The fairest grant is the necessity. +Look what will serve is fit. 'Tis once, thou lovest, +And I will fit thee with the remedy. +I know we shall have reveling tonight. +I will assume thy part in some disguise +And tell fair Hero I am Claudio, +And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart +And take her hearing prisoner with the force +And strong encounter of my amorous tale. +Then after to her father will I break, +And the conclusion is, she shall be thine. +In practice let us put it presently. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Leonato, meeting an old man, brother to +Leonato.] + + +LEONATO How now, brother, where is my cousin, your +son? Hath he provided this music? + +LEONATO'S BROTHER He is very busy about it. But, +brother, I can tell you strange news that you yet +dreamt not of. + +LEONATO Are they good? + +LEONATO'S BROTHER As the events stamps them, but +they have a good cover; they show well outward. +The Prince and Count Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached +alley in mine orchard, were thus much +overheard by a man of mine: the Prince discovered +to Claudio that he loved my niece your daughter and +meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if +he found her accordant, he meant to take the +present time by the top and instantly break with you +of it. + +LEONATO Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? + +LEONATO'S BROTHER A good sharp fellow. I will send +for him, and question him yourself. + +LEONATO No, no, we will hold it as a dream till it +appear itself. But I will acquaint my daughter +withal, that she may be the better prepared for an +answer, if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell +her of it. + +[Enter Antonio's son, with a Musician and Attendants.] + +Cousins, you know what you have to do.--O, I cry +you mercy, friend. Go you with me and I will use +your skill.--Good cousin, have a care this busy +time. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir John the Bastard, and Conrade, his +companion.] + + +CONRADE What the goodyear, my lord, why are you +thus out of measure sad? + +DON JOHN There is no measure in the occasion that +breeds. Therefore the sadness is without limit. + +CONRADE You should hear reason. + +DON JOHN And when I have heard it, what blessing +brings it? + +CONRADE If not a present remedy, at least a patient +sufferance. + +DON JOHN I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayst thou +art, born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral +medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide +what I am. I must be sad when I have cause, and +smile at no man's jests; eat when I have stomach, +and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am +drowsy, and tend on no man's business; laugh when +I am merry, and claw no man in his humor. + +CONRADE Yea, but you must not make the full show of +this till you may do it without controlment. You +have of late stood out against your brother, and he +hath ta'en you newly into his grace, where it is +impossible you should take true root but by the fair +weather that you make yourself. It is needful that +you frame the season for your own harvest. + +DON JOHN I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a +rose in his grace, and it better fits my blood to be +disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob +love from any. In this, though I cannot be said to be +a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I +am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a +muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I +have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my +mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do +my liking. In the meantime, let me be that I am, and +seek not to alter me. + +CONRADE Can you make no use of your discontent? + +DON JOHN I make all use of it, for I use it only. Who +comes here? + +[Enter Borachio.] + +What news, Borachio? + +BORACHIO I came yonder from a great supper. The +Prince your brother is royally entertained by +Leonato, and I can give you intelligence of an +intended marriage. + +DON JOHN Will it serve for any model to build mischief +on? What is he for a fool that betroths himself to +unquietness? + +BORACHIO Marry, it is your brother's right hand. + +DON JOHN Who, the most exquisite Claudio? + +BORACHIO Even he. + +DON JOHN A proper squire. And who, and who? Which +way looks he? + +BORACHIO Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of +Leonato. + +DON JOHN A very forward March chick! How came you +to this? + +BORACHIO Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was +smoking a musty room, comes me the Prince and +Claudio, hand in hand, in sad conference. I +whipped me behind the arras, and there heard it +agreed upon that the Prince should woo Hero for +himself, and having obtained her, give her to Count +Claudio. + +DON JOHN Come, come, let us thither. This may prove +food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath +all the glory of my overthrow. If I can cross him any +way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and +will assist me? + +CONRADE To the death, my lord. + +DON JOHN Let us to the great supper. Their cheer is the +greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were o' +my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done? + +BORACHIO We'll wait upon your Lordship. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Leonato, his brother, Hero his daughter, and +Beatrice his niece, with Ursula and Margaret.] + + +LEONATO Was not Count John here at supper? + +LEONATO'S BROTHER I saw him not. + +BEATRICE How tartly that gentleman looks! I never +can see him but I am heartburned an hour after. + +HERO He is of a very melancholy disposition. + +BEATRICE He were an excellent man that were made +just in the midway between him and Benedick. The +one is too like an image and says nothing, and the +other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore +tattling. + +LEONATO Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in +Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy +in Signior Benedick's face-- + +BEATRICE With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and +money enough in his purse, such a man would win +any woman in the world if he could get her +goodwill. + +LEONATO By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a +husband if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER In faith, she's too curst. + +BEATRICE Too curst is more than curst. I shall lessen +God's sending that way, for it is said "God sends a +curst cow short horns," but to a cow too curst, he +sends none. + +LEONATO So, by being too curst, God will send you no +horns. + +BEATRICE Just, if He send me no husband, for the +which blessing I am at Him upon my knees every +morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a +husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in +the woolen! + +LEONATO You may light on a husband that hath no +beard. + +BEATRICE What should I do with him? Dress him in my +apparel and make him my waiting gentlewoman? +He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he +that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is +more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less +than a man, I am not for him. Therefore I will even +take sixpence in earnest of the bearherd, and lead +his apes into hell. + +LEONATO Well then, go you into hell? + +BEATRICE No, but to the gate, and there will the devil +meet me like an old cuckold with horns on his +head, and say "Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you +to heaven; here's no place for you maids." So deliver +I up my apes and away to Saint Peter; for the +heavens, he shows me where the bachelors sit, and +there live we as merry as the day is long. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER, [to Hero] Well, niece, I trust you +will be ruled by your father. + +BEATRICE Yes, faith, it is my cousin's duty to make +curtsy and say "Father, as it please you." But yet for +all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or +else make another curtsy and say "Father, as it +please me." + +LEONATO Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted +with a husband. + +BEATRICE Not till God make men of some other metal +than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be +overmastered with a piece of valiant dust? To make +an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? +No, uncle, I'll none. Adam's sons are my brethren, +and truly I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. + +LEONATO, [to Hero] Daughter, remember what I told +you. If the Prince do solicit you in that kind, you +know your answer. + +BEATRICE The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you +be not wooed in good time. If the Prince be too +important, tell him there is measure in everything, +and so dance out the answer. For hear me, Hero, +wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a +measure, and a cinquepace. The first suit is hot and +hasty like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the +wedding, mannerly modest as a measure, full of +state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, +and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster +and faster till he sink into his grave. + +LEONATO Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly. + +BEATRICE I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church +by daylight. + +LEONATO The revelers are entering, brother. Make +good room. [Leonato and his brother step aside.] + +[Enter, with a Drum, Prince Pedro, Claudio, and +Benedick, Signior Antonio, and Balthasar, all in +masks, with Borachio and Don John.] + + +PRINCE, [to Hero] Lady, will you walk a bout with your +friend? [They begin to dance.] + +HERO So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say +nothing, I am yours for the walk, and especially +when I walk away. + +PRINCE With me in your company? + +HERO I may say so when I please. + +PRINCE And when please you to say so? + +HERO When I like your favor, for God defend the lute +should be like the case. + +PRINCE My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house +is Jove. + +HERO Why, then, your visor should be thatched. + +PRINCE Speak low if you speak love. +[They move aside; +Benedick and Margaret move forward.] + +BENEDICK, [to Margaret] Well, I would you did like me. + +MARGARET So would not I for your own sake, for I have +many ill qualities. + +BENEDICK Which is one? + +MARGARET I say my prayers aloud. + +BENEDICK I love you the better; the hearers may cry +"Amen." + +MARGARET God match me with a good dancer. +[They separate; Benedick moves aside; +Balthasar moves forward.] + +BALTHASAR Amen. + +MARGARET And God keep him out of my sight when the +dance is done. Answer, clerk. + +BALTHASAR No more words. The clerk is answered. +[They move aside; +Ursula and Antonio move forward.] + +URSULA I know you well enough. You are Signior +Antonio. + +ANTONIO At a word, I am not. + +URSULA I know you by the waggling of your head. + +ANTONIO To tell you true, I counterfeit him. + +URSULA You could never do him so ill-well unless you +were the very man. Here's his dry hand up and +down. You are he, you are he. + +ANTONIO At a word, I am not. + +URSULA Come, come, do you think I do not know you +by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide itself? Go to, +mum, you are he. Graces will appear, and there's an +end. +[They move aside; +Benedick and Beatrice move forward.] + +BEATRICE Will you not tell me who told you so? + +BENEDICK No, you shall pardon me. + +BEATRICE Nor will you not tell me who you are? + +BENEDICK Not now. + +BEATRICE That I was disdainful, and that I had my +good wit out of The Hundred Merry Tales! Well, this +was Signior Benedick that said so. + +BENEDICK What's he? + +BEATRICE I am sure you know him well enough. + +BENEDICK Not I, believe me. + +BEATRICE Did he never make you laugh? + +BENEDICK I pray you, what is he? + +BEATRICE Why, he is the Prince's jester, a very dull +fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders. +None but libertines delight in him, and the commendation +is not in his wit but in his villainy, for he +both pleases men and angers them, and then they +laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in the +fleet.I would he had boarded me. + +BENEDICK When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him +what you say. + +BEATRICE Do, do. He'll but break a comparison or two +on me, which peradventure not marked or not +laughed at strikes him into melancholy, and then +there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat +no supper that night. [Music for the dance.] We must +follow the leaders. + +BENEDICK In every good thing. + +BEATRICE Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them +at the next turning. +[Dance. Then exit all except +Don John, Borachio, and Claudio.] + +DON JOHN, [to Borachio] Sure my brother is amorous +on Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break +with him about it. The ladies follow her, and but one +visor remains. + +BORACHIO And that is Claudio. I know him by his +bearing. + +DON JOHN, [to Claudio] Are not you Signior Benedick? + +CLAUDIO You know me well. I am he. + +DON JOHN Signior, you are very near my brother in his +love. He is enamored on Hero. I pray you dissuade +him from her. She is no equal for his birth. You +may do the part of an honest man in it. + +CLAUDIO How know you he loves her? + +DON JOHN I heard him swear his affection. + +BORACHIO So did I too, and he swore he would marry +her tonight. + +DON JOHN Come, let us to the banquet. +[They exit. Claudio remains.] + +CLAUDIO, [unmasking] +Thus answer I in name of Benedick, +But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio. +'Tis certain so. The Prince woos for himself. +Friendship is constant in all other things +Save in the office and affairs of love. +Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. +Let every eye negotiate for itself +And trust no agent, for beauty is a witch +Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. +This is an accident of hourly proof, +Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore, Hero. + +[Enter Benedick.] + + +BENEDICK Count Claudio? + +CLAUDIO Yea, the same. + +BENEDICK Come, will you go with me? + +CLAUDIO Whither? + +BENEDICK Even to the next willow, about your own +business, county. What fashion will you wear the +garland of? About your neck like an usurer's chain? +Or under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf? You +must wear it one way, for the Prince hath got your +Hero. + +CLAUDIO I wish him joy of her. + +BENEDICK Why, that's spoken like an honest drover; so +they sell bullocks. But did you think the Prince +would have served you thus? + +CLAUDIO I pray you, leave me. + +BENEDICK Ho, now you strike like the blind man. +'Twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat +the post. + +CLAUDIO If it will not be, I'll leave you. [He exits.] + +BENEDICK Alas, poor hurt fowl, now will he creep into +sedges. But that my Lady Beatrice should know +me, and not know me! The Prince's fool! Ha, it may +be I go under that title because I am merry. Yea, but +so I am apt to do myself wrong. I am not so reputed! +It is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice +that puts the world into her person and so gives me +out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. + +[Enter the Prince, Hero, and Leonato.] + + +PRINCE Now, signior, where's the Count? Did you see +him? + +BENEDICK Troth, my lord, I have played the part of +Lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a +lodge in a warren. I told him, and I think I told him +true, that your Grace had got the goodwill of this +young lady, and I offered him my company to a +willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being +forsaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to +be whipped. + +PRINCE To be whipped? What's his fault? + +BENEDICK The flat transgression of a schoolboy who, +being overjoyed with finding a bird's nest, shows it +his companion, and he steals it. + +PRINCE Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The +transgression is in the stealer. + +BENEDICK Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been +made, and the garland too, for the garland he +might have worn himself, and the rod he might +have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stolen +his bird's nest. + +PRINCE I will but teach them to sing and restore them +to the owner. + +BENEDICK If their singing answer your saying, by my +faith, you say honestly. + +PRINCE The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you. The +gentleman that danced with her told her she is +much wronged by you. + +BENEDICK O, she misused me past the endurance of a +block! An oak but with one green leaf on it would +have answered her. My very visor began to assume +life and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I +had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, that I +was duller than a great thaw, huddling jest upon jest +with such impossible conveyance upon me that I +stood like a man at a mark with a whole army +shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every +word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her +terminations, there were no living near her; she +would infect to the North Star. I would not marry +her though she were endowed with all that Adam +had left him before he transgressed. She would have +made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft +his club to make the fire, too. Come, talk not of her. +You shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I +would to God some scholar would conjure her, for +certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet +in hell as in a sanctuary, and people sin upon +purpose because they would go thither. So indeed +all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follows her. + +[Enter Claudio and Beatrice.] + + +PRINCE Look, here she comes. + +BENEDICK Will your Grace command me any service +to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand +now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send +me on. I will fetch you a toothpicker now from the +furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of Prester +John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great Cham's +beard, do you any embassage to the Pygmies, rather +than hold three words' conference with this harpy. +You have no employment for me? + +PRINCE None but to desire your good company. + +BENEDICK O God, sir, here's a dish I love not! I cannot +endure my Lady Tongue. [He exits.] + +PRINCE, [to Beatrice] Come, lady, come, you have lost +the heart of Signior Benedick. + +BEATRICE Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile, and I +gave him use for it, a double heart for his single +one. Marry, once before he won it of me with false +dice. Therefore your Grace may well say I have lost +it. + +PRINCE You have put him down, lady, you have put +him down. + +BEATRICE So I would not he should do me, my lord, +lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have +brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. + +PRINCE Why, how now, count, wherefore are you sad? + +CLAUDIO Not sad, my lord. + +PRINCE How then, sick? + +CLAUDIO Neither, my lord. + +BEATRICE The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, +nor well, but civil count, civil as an orange, and +something of that jealous complexion. + +PRINCE I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true, +though I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is +false.--Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, +and fair Hero is won. I have broke with her father +and his goodwill obtained. Name the day of marriage, +and God give thee joy. + +LEONATO Count, take of me my daughter, and with her +my fortunes. His Grace hath made the match, and +all grace say "Amen" to it. + +BEATRICE Speak, count, 'tis your cue. + +CLAUDIO Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were +but little happy if I could say how much.--Lady, as +you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you +and dote upon the exchange. + +BEATRICE Speak, cousin, or, if you cannot, stop his +mouth with a kiss and let not him speak neither. + +PRINCE In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. + +BEATRICE Yea, my lord. I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on +the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear +that he is in her heart. + +CLAUDIO And so she doth, cousin. + +BEATRICE Good Lord for alliance! Thus goes everyone +to the world but I, and I am sunburnt. I may sit in a +corner and cry "Heigh-ho for a husband!" + +PRINCE Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. + +BEATRICE I would rather have one of your father's +getting. Hath your Grace ne'er a brother like you? +Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could +come by them. + +PRINCE Will you have me, lady? + +BEATRICE No, my lord, unless I might have another for +working days. Your Grace is too costly to wear +every day. But I beseech your Grace pardon me. I +was born to speak all mirth and no matter. + +PRINCE Your silence most offends me, and to be merry +best becomes you, for out o' question you were +born in a merry hour. + +BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried, but then +there was a star danced, and under that was I +born.--Cousins, God give you joy! + +LEONATO Niece, will you look to those things I told +you of? + +BEATRICE I cry you mercy, uncle.--By your Grace's +pardon. [Beatrice exits.] + +PRINCE By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady. + +LEONATO There's little of the melancholy element in +her, my lord. She is never sad but when she sleeps, +and not ever sad then, for I have heard my daughter +say she hath often dreamt of unhappiness and +waked herself with laughing. + +PRINCE She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband. + +LEONATO O, by no means. She mocks all her wooers +out of suit. + +PRINCE She were an excellent wife for Benedick. + +LEONATO O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week +married, they would talk themselves mad. + +PRINCE County Claudio, when mean you to go to +church? + +CLAUDIO Tomorrow, my lord. Time goes on crutches +till love have all his rites. + +LEONATO Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence +a just sevennight, and a time too brief, too, to have +all things answer my mind. + +PRINCE, [to Claudio] Come, you shake the head at so +long a breathing, but I warrant thee, Claudio, the +time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim +undertake one of Hercules' labors, which is to bring +Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a +mountain of affection, th' one with th' other. I +would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to +fashion it, if you three will but minister such +assistance as I shall give you direction. + +LEONATO My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten +nights' watchings. + +CLAUDIO And I, my lord. + +PRINCE And you too, gentle Hero? + +HERO I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my +cousin to a good husband. + +PRINCE And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband +that I know. Thus far can I praise him: he is of +a noble strain, of approved valor, and confirmed +honesty. I will teach you how to humor your +cousin that she shall fall in love with Benedick.-- +And I, with your two helps, will so practice on +Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his +queasy stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. +If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his +glory shall be ours, for we are the only love gods. Go +in with me, and I will tell you my drift. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Don John and Borachio.] + + +DON JOHN It is so. The Count Claudio shall marry the +daughter of Leonato. + +BORACHIO Yea, my lord, but I can cross it. + +DON JOHN Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be +med'cinable to me. I am sick in displeasure to him, +and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges +evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this +marriage? + +BORACHIO Not honestly, my lord, but so covertly that +no dishonesty shall appear in me. + +DON JOHN Show me briefly how. + +BORACHIO I think I told your Lordship a year since, +how much I am in the favor of Margaret, the +waiting gentlewoman to Hero. + +DON JOHN I remember. + +BORACHIO I can, at any unseasonable instant of the +night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber +window. + +DON JOHN What life is in that to be the death of this +marriage? + +BORACHIO The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go +you to the Prince your brother; spare not to tell +him that he hath wronged his honor in marrying +the renowned Claudio, whose estimation do you +mightily hold up, to a contaminated stale, such a +one as Hero. + +DON JOHN What proof shall I make of that? + +BORACHIO Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex +Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you +for any other issue? + +DON JOHN Only to despite them I will endeavor +anything. + +BORACHIO Go then, find me a meet hour to draw Don +Pedro and the Count Claudio alone. Tell them that +you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal +both to the Prince and Claudio, as in love of your +brother's honor, who hath made this match, and his +friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened +with the semblance of a maid, that you have discovered +thus. They will scarcely believe this without +trial. Offer them instances, which shall bear no less +likelihood than to see me at her chamber window, +hear me call Margaret "Hero," hear Margaret term +me "Claudio," and bring them to see this the very +night before the intended wedding, for in the meantime +I will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be +absent, and there shall appear such seeming truth +of Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called +assurance and all the preparation overthrown. + +DON JOHN Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will +put it in practice. Be cunning in the working this, +and thy fee is a thousand ducats. + +BORACHIO Be you constant in the accusation, and my +cunning shall not shame me. + +DON JOHN I will presently go learn their day of +marriage. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Benedick alone.] + + +BENEDICK Boy! + +[Enter Boy.] + + +BOY Signior? + +BENEDICK In my chamber window lies a book. Bring it +hither to me in the orchard. + +BOY I am here already, sir. + +BENEDICK I know that, but I would have thee hence +and here again. [Boy exits.] +I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much +another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors +to love, will, after he hath laughed at such +shallow follies in others, become the argument of +his own scorn by falling in love--and such a man is +Claudio. I have known when there was no music +with him but the drum and the fife, and now had he +rather hear the tabor and the pipe; I have known +when he would have walked ten mile afoot to see a +good armor, and now will he lie ten nights awake +carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont +to speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest +man and a soldier, and now is he turned orthography; +his words are a very fantastical banquet, just so +many strange dishes. May I be so converted and see +with these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not +be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster, +but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an +oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool. +One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet +I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all +graces be in one woman, one woman shall not +come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; +wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen +her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not +near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good +discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall +be of what color it please God. Ha! The Prince and +Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbor. +[He hides.] + +[Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthasar +with music.] + + +PRINCE Come, shall we hear this music? + +CLAUDIO +Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is, +As hushed on purpose to grace harmony! + +PRINCE, [aside to Claudio] +See you where Benedick hath hid himself? + +CLAUDIO, [aside to Prince] +O, very well my lord. The music ended, +We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth. + +PRINCE +Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again. + +BALTHASAR +O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice +To slander music any more than once. + +PRINCE +It is the witness still of excellency +To put a strange face on his own perfection. +I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more. + +BALTHASAR +Because you talk of wooing, I will sing, +Since many a wooer doth commence his suit +To her he thinks not worthy, yet he woos, +Yet will he swear he loves. + +PRINCE Nay, pray thee, come, +Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, +Do it in notes. + +BALTHASAR Note this before my notes: +There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. + +PRINCE +Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks! +Note notes, forsooth, and nothing. [Music plays.] + +BENEDICK, [aside] Now, divine air! Now is his soul +ravished. Is it not strange that sheeps' guts should +hale souls out of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my +money, when all's done. + +BALTHASAR [sings] + Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, + Men were deceivers ever, + One foot in sea and one on shore, + To one thing constant never. + Then sigh not so, but let them go, + And be you blithe and bonny, + Converting all your sounds of woe + Into Hey, nonny nonny. + + Sing no more ditties, sing no mo, + Of dumps so dull and heavy. + The fraud of men was ever so, + Since summer first was leavy. + Then sigh not so, but let them go, + And be you blithe and bonny, + Converting all your sounds of woe + Into Hey, nonny nonny. + +PRINCE By my troth, a good song. + +BALTHASAR And an ill singer, my lord. + +PRINCE Ha, no, no, faith, thou sing'st well enough for a +shift. + +BENEDICK, [aside] An he had been a dog that should +have howled thus, they would have hanged him. And +I pray God his bad voice bode no mischief. I had as +lief have heard the night raven, come what plague +could have come after it. + +PRINCE Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray +thee get us some excellent music, for tomorrow +night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber +window. + +BALTHASAR The best I can, my lord. + +PRINCE Do so. Farewell. [Balthasar exits.] +Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of +today, that your niece Beatrice was in love with +Signior Benedick? + +CLAUDIO O, ay. [Aside to Prince.] Stalk on, stalk on; the +fowl sits.--I did never think that lady would have +loved any man. + +LEONATO No, nor I neither, but most wonderful that +she should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she +hath in all outward behaviors seemed ever to +abhor. + +BENEDICK, [aside] Is 't possible? Sits the wind in that +corner? + +LEONATO By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to +think of it, but that she loves him with an enraged +affection, it is past the infinite of thought. + +PRINCE Maybe she doth but counterfeit. + +CLAUDIO Faith, like enough. + +LEONATO O God! Counterfeit? There was never counterfeit +of passion came so near the life of passion as +she discovers it. + +PRINCE Why, what effects of passion shows she? + +CLAUDIO, [aside to Leonato] Bait the hook well; this fish +will bite. + +LEONATO What effects, my lord? She will sit you--you +heard my daughter tell you how. + +CLAUDIO She did indeed. + +PRINCE How, how I pray you? You amaze me. I would +have thought her spirit had been invincible against +all assaults of affection. + +LEONATO I would have sworn it had, my lord, especially +against Benedick. + +BENEDICK, [aside] I should think this a gull but that the +white-bearded fellow speaks it. Knavery cannot, +sure, hide himself in such reverence. + +CLAUDIO, [aside to Prince] He hath ta'en th' infection. +Hold it up. + +PRINCE Hath she made her affection known to +Benedick? + +LEONATO No, and swears she never will. That's her +torment. + +CLAUDIO 'Tis true indeed, so your daughter says. "Shall +I," says she, "that have so oft encountered him with +scorn, write to him that I love him?" + +LEONATO This says she now when she is beginning to +write to him, for she'll be up twenty times a night, +and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ +a sheet of paper. My daughter tells us all. + +CLAUDIO Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember +a pretty jest your daughter told us of. + +LEONATO O, when she had writ it and was reading it +over, she found "Benedick" and "Beatrice" between +the sheet? + +CLAUDIO That. + +LEONATO O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence, +railed at herself that she should be so +immodest to write to one that she knew would flout +her. "I measure him," says she, "by my own spirit, +for I should flout him if he writ to me, yea, though I +love him, I should." + +CLAUDIO Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, +sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses: +"O sweet Benedick, God give me patience!" + +LEONATO She doth indeed, my daughter says so, and +the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my +daughter is sometimes afeared she will do a desperate +outrage to herself. It is very true. + +PRINCE It were good that Benedick knew of it by some +other, if she will not discover it. + +CLAUDIO To what end? He would make but a sport of it +and torment the poor lady worse. + +PRINCE An he should, it were an alms to hang him. +She's an excellent sweet lady, and, out of all suspicion, +she is virtuous. + +CLAUDIO And she is exceeding wise. + +PRINCE In everything but in loving Benedick. + +LEONATO O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in +so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that +blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have +just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. + +PRINCE I would she had bestowed this dotage on me. I +would have daffed all other respects and made her +half myself. I pray you tell Benedick of it, and hear +what he will say. + +LEONATO Were it good, think you? + +CLAUDIO Hero thinks surely she will die, for she says +she will die if he love her not, and she will die ere +she make her love known, and she will die if he woo +her rather than she will bate one breath of her +accustomed crossness. + +PRINCE She doth well. If she should make tender of +her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it, for the man, +as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. + +CLAUDIO He is a very proper man. + +PRINCE He hath indeed a good outward happiness. + +CLAUDIO Before God, and in my mind, very wise. + +PRINCE He doth indeed show some sparks that are like +wit. + +CLAUDIO And I take him to be valiant. + +PRINCE As Hector, I assure you, and in the managing +of quarrels you may say he is wise, for either he +avoids them with great discretion or undertakes +them with a most Christianlike fear. + +LEONATO If he do fear God, he must necessarily keep +peace. If he break the peace, he ought to enter into +a quarrel with fear and trembling. + +PRINCE And so will he do, for the man doth fear God, +howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests +he will make. Well, I am sorry for your niece. Shall +we go seek Benedick and tell him of her love? + +CLAUDIO Never tell him, my lord, let her wear it out +with good counsel. + +LEONATO Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her +heart out first. + +PRINCE Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter. +Let it cool the while. I love Benedick well, and I +could wish he would modestly examine himself to +see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. + +LEONATO My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready. +[Leonato, Prince, and Claudio begin to exit.] + +CLAUDIO, [aside to Prince and Leonato] If he do not +dote on her upon this, I will never trust my +expectation. + +PRINCE, [aside to Leonato] Let there be the same net +spread for her, and that must your daughter and her +gentlewomen carry. The sport will be when they +hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no +such matter. That's the scene that I would see, +which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her +to call him in to dinner. +[Prince, Leonato, and Claudio exit.] + +BENEDICK, [coming forward] This can be no trick. The +conference was sadly borne; they have the truth of +this from Hero; they seem to pity the lady. It seems +her affections have their full bent. Love me? Why, it +must be requited! I hear how I am censured. They +say I will bear myself proudly if I perceive the love +come from her. They say, too, that she will rather +die than give any sign of affection. I did never think +to marry. I must not seem proud. Happy are they +that hear their detractions and can put them to +mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can +bear them witness. And virtuous; 'tis so, I cannot +reprove it. And wise, but for loving me; by my troth, +it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of +her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her! I +may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of +wit broken on me because I have railed so long +against marriage, but doth not the appetite alter? A +man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot +endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and +these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the +career of his humor? No! The world must be peopled. +When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not +think I should live till I were married. Here comes +Beatrice. By this day, she's a fair lady. I do spy some +marks of love in her. + +[Enter Beatrice.] + + +BEATRICE Against my will, I am sent to bid you come +in to dinner. + +BENEDICK Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. + +BEATRICE I took no more pains for those thanks than +you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful, I +would not have come. + +BENEDICK You take pleasure then in the message? + +BEATRICE Yea, just so much as you may take upon a +knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no +stomach, signior. Fare you well. [She exits.] + +BENEDICK Ha! "Against my will I am sent to bid you +come in to dinner." There's a double meaning in +that. "I took no more pains for those thanks than +you took pains to thank me." That's as much as to +say "Any pains that I take for you is as easy as +thanks." If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I +do not love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hero and two gentlewomen, Margaret and Ursula.] + + +HERO +Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor. +There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice +Proposing with the Prince and Claudio. +Whisper her ear and tell her I and Ursula +Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse +Is all of her. Say that thou overheardst us, +And bid her steal into the pleached bower +Where honeysuckles ripened by the sun +Forbid the sun to enter, like favorites, +Made proud by princes, that advance their pride +Against that power that bred it. There will she hide +her +To listen our propose. This is thy office. +Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. + +MARGARET +I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently. +[She exits.] + +HERO +Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come, +As we do trace this alley up and down, +Our talk must only be of Benedick. +When I do name him, let it be thy part +To praise him more than ever man did merit. +My talk to thee must be how Benedick +Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter +Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, +That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin, +For look where Beatrice like a lapwing runs +Close by the ground, to hear our conference. + +[Enter Beatrice, who hides in the bower.] + + +URSULA, [aside to Hero] +The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish +Cut with her golden oars the silver stream +And greedily devour the treacherous bait. +So angle we for Beatrice, who even now +Is couched in the woodbine coverture. +Fear you not my part of the dialogue. + +HERO, [aside to Ursula] +Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing +Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.-- +[They walk near the bower.] +No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful. +I know her spirits are as coy and wild +As haggards of the rock. + +URSULA But are you sure +That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely? + +HERO +So says the Prince and my new-trothed lord. + +URSULA +And did they bid you tell her of it, madam? + +HERO +They did entreat me to acquaint her of it, +But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, +To wish him wrestle with affection +And never to let Beatrice know of it. + +URSULA +Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman +Deserve as full as fortunate a bed +As ever Beatrice shall couch upon? + +HERO +O god of love! I know he doth deserve +As much as may be yielded to a man, +But Nature never framed a woman's heart +Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. +Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, +Misprizing what they look on, and her wit +Values itself so highly that to her +All matter else seems weak. She cannot love, +Nor take no shape nor project of affection, +She is so self-endeared. + +URSULA Sure, I think so, +And therefore certainly it were not good +She knew his love, lest she'll make sport at it. + +HERO +Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man, +How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, +But she would spell him backward. If fair-faced, +She would swear the gentleman should be her +sister; +If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic, +Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; +If low, an agate very vilely cut; +If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; +If silent, why, a block moved with none. +So turns she every man the wrong side out, +And never gives to truth and virtue that +Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. + +URSULA +Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable. + +HERO +No, not to be so odd and from all fashions +As Beatrice is cannot be commendable. +But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, +She would mock me into air. O, she would laugh +me +Out of myself, press me to death with wit. +Therefore let Benedick, like covered fire, +Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly. +It were a better death than die with mocks, +Which is as bad as die with tickling. + +URSULA +Yet tell her of it. Hear what she will say. + +HERO +No, rather I will go to Benedick +And counsel him to fight against his passion; +And truly I'll devise some honest slanders +To stain my cousin with. One doth not know +How much an ill word may empoison liking. + +URSULA +O, do not do your cousin such a wrong! +She cannot be so much without true judgment, +Having so swift and excellent a wit +As she is prized to have, as to refuse +So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick. + +HERO +He is the only man of Italy, +Always excepted my dear Claudio. + +URSULA +I pray you be not angry with me, madam, +Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick, +For shape, for bearing, argument, and valor, +Goes foremost in report through Italy. + +HERO +Indeed, he hath an excellent good name. + +URSULA +His excellence did earn it ere he had it. +When are you married, madam? + +HERO +Why, every day, tomorrow. Come, go in. +I'll show thee some attires and have thy counsel +Which is the best to furnish me tomorrow. +[They move away from the bower.] + +URSULA, [aside to Hero] +She's limed, I warrant you. We have caught her, +madam. + +HERO, [aside to Ursula] +If it prove so, then loving goes by haps; +Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. +[Hero and Ursula exit.] + +BEATRICE, [coming forward] +What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? + Stand I condemned for pride and scorn so much? +Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adieu! + No glory lives behind the back of such. +And Benedick, love on; I will requite thee, + Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand. +If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee + To bind our loves up in a holy band. +For others say thou dost deserve, and I +Believe it better than reportingly. +[She exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Leonato.] + + +PRINCE I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, +and then go I toward Aragon. + +CLAUDIO I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll vouchsafe +me. + +PRINCE Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new +gloss of your marriage as to show a child his new +coat and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold +with Benedick for his company, for from the crown +of his head to the sole of his foot he is all mirth. He +hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bowstring, and the +little hangman dare not shoot at him. He hath a +heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the +clapper, for what his heart thinks, his tongue +speaks. + +BENEDICK Gallants, I am not as I have been. + +LEONATO So say I. Methinks you are sadder. + +CLAUDIO I hope he be in love. + +PRINCE Hang him, truant! There's no true drop of +blood in him to be truly touched with love. If he be +sad, he wants money. + +BENEDICK I have the toothache. + +PRINCE Draw it. + +BENEDICK Hang it! + +CLAUDIO You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards. + +PRINCE What, sigh for the toothache? + +LEONATO Where is but a humor or a worm. + +BENEDICK Well, everyone can master a grief but he +that has it. + +CLAUDIO Yet say I, he is in love. + +PRINCE There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless +it be a fancy that he hath to strange disguises, as to +be a Dutchman today, a Frenchman tomorrow, or +in the shape of two countries at once, as a German +from the waist downward, all slops, and a Spaniard +from the hip upward, no doublet. Unless he have a +fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no +fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is. + +CLAUDIO If he be not in love with some woman, there +is no believing old signs. He brushes his hat o' +mornings. What should that bode? + +PRINCE Hath any man seen him at the barber's? + +CLAUDIO No, but the barber's man hath been seen +with him, and the old ornament of his cheek hath +already stuffed tennis balls. + +LEONATO Indeed he looks younger than he did, by the +loss of a beard. + +PRINCE Nay, he rubs himself with civet. Can you smell +him out by that? + +CLAUDIO That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in +love. + +PRINCE The greatest note of it is his melancholy. + +CLAUDIO And when was he wont to wash his face? + +PRINCE Yea, or to paint himself? For the which I hear +what they say of him. + +CLAUDIO Nay, but his jesting spirit, which is now crept +into a lute string and now governed by stops-- + +PRINCE Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him. Conclude, +conclude, he is in love. + +CLAUDIO Nay, but I know who loves him. + +PRINCE That would I know, too. I warrant, one that +knows him not. + +CLAUDIO Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of +all, dies for him. + +PRINCE She shall be buried with her face upwards. + +BENEDICK Yet is this no charm for the toothache.-- +Old signior, walk aside with me. I have studied eight +or nine wise words to speak to you, which these +hobby-horses must not hear. +[Benedick and Leonato exit.] + +PRINCE For my life, to break with him about Beatrice! + +CLAUDIO 'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this +played their parts with Beatrice, and then the two +bears will not bite one another when they meet. + +[Enter John the Bastard.] + + +DON JOHN My lord and brother, God save you. + +PRINCE Good e'en, brother. + +DON JOHN If your leisure served, I would speak with +you. + +PRINCE In private? + +DON JOHN If it please you. Yet Count Claudio may +hear, for what I would speak of concerns him. + +PRINCE What's the matter? + +DON JOHN, [to Claudio] Means your Lordship to be +married tomorrow? + +PRINCE You know he does. + +DON JOHN I know not that, when he knows what I +know. + +CLAUDIO If there be any impediment, I pray you discover +it. + +DON JOHN You may think I love you not. Let that +appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I +now will manifest. For my brother, I think he holds +you well, and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect +your ensuing marriage--surely suit ill spent and +labor ill bestowed. + +PRINCE Why, what's the matter? + +DON JOHN I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances +shortened, for she has been too long +a-talking of, the lady is disloyal. + +CLAUDIO Who, Hero? + +DON JOHN Even she: Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every +man's Hero. + +CLAUDIO Disloyal? + +DON JOHN The word is too good to paint out her +wickedness. I could say she were worse. Think you +of a worse title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not +till further warrant. Go but with me tonight, you +shall see her chamber window entered, even the +night before her wedding day. If you love her then, +tomorrow wed her. But it would better fit your +honor to change your mind. + +CLAUDIO, [to Prince] May this be so? + +PRINCE I will not think it. + +DON JOHN If you dare not trust that you see, confess +not that you know. If you will follow me, I will +show you enough, and when you have seen more +and heard more, proceed accordingly. + +CLAUDIO If I see anything tonight why I should not +marry her, tomorrow in the congregation, where I +should wed, there will I shame her. + +PRINCE And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will +join with thee to disgrace her. + +DON JOHN I will disparage her no farther till you are +my witnesses. Bear it coldly but till midnight, and +let the issue show itself. + +PRINCE O day untowardly turned! + +CLAUDIO O mischief strangely thwarting! + +DON JOHN O plague right well prevented! So will you +say when you have seen the sequel. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Dogberry and his compartner Verges +with the Watch.] + + +DOGBERRY Are you good men and true? + +VERGES Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer +salvation, body and soul. + +DOGBERRY Nay, that were a punishment too good for +them if they should have any allegiance in them, +being chosen for the Prince's watch. + +VERGES Well, give them their charge, neighbor +Dogberry. + +DOGBERRY First, who think you the most desartless +man to be constable? + +FIRST WATCHMAN Hugh Oatcake, sir, or George Seacoal, +for they can write and read. + +DOGBERRY Come hither, neighbor Seacoal. [Seacoal +steps forward.] God hath blessed you with a good +name. To be a well-favored man is the gift of +fortune, but to write and read comes by nature. + +SEACOAL Both which, master constable-- + +DOGBERRY You have. I knew it would be your answer. +Well, for your favor, sir, why, give God thanks, and +make no boast of it, and for your writing and +reading, let that appear when there is no need of +such vanity. You are thought here to be the most +senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch; +therefore bear you the lantern. This is your charge: +you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are to +bid any man stand, in the Prince's name. + +SEACOAL How if he will not stand? + +DOGBERRY Why, then, take no note of him, but let him +go, and presently call the rest of the watch together +and thank God you are rid of a knave. + +VERGES If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is +none of the Prince's subjects. + +DOGBERRY True, and they are to meddle with none but +the Prince's subjects.--You shall also make no +noise in the streets; for, for the watch to babble and +to talk is most tolerable and not to be endured. + +SECOND WATCHMAN We will rather sleep than talk. +We know what belongs to a watch. + +DOGBERRY Why, you speak like an ancient and most +quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping +should offend; only have a care that your bills be not +stolen. Well, you are to call at all the alehouses and +bid those that are drunk get them to bed. + +SEACOAL How if they will not? + +DOGBERRY Why then, let them alone till they are sober. +If they make you not then the better answer, you +may say they are not the men you took them for. + +SEACOAL Well, sir. + +DOGBERRY If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by +virtue of your office, to be no true man, and for such +kind of men, the less you meddle or make with +them, why, the more is for your honesty. + +SEACOAL If we know him to be a thief, shall we not +lay hands on him? + +DOGBERRY Truly, by your office you may, but I think +they that touch pitch will be defiled. The most +peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is to +let him show himself what he is and steal out of +your company. + +VERGES You have been always called a merciful man, +partner. + +DOGBERRY Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, +much more a man who hath any honesty in him. + +VERGES, [to the Watch] If you hear a child cry in the +night, you must call to the nurse and bid her still it. + +SECOND WATCHMAN How if the nurse be asleep and +will not hear us? + +DOGBERRY Why, then depart in peace, and let the +child wake her with crying, for the ewe that will +not hear her lamb when it baas will never answer a +calf when he bleats. + +VERGES 'Tis very true. + +DOGBERRY This is the end of the charge. You, constable, +are to present the Prince's own person. If you +meet the Prince in the night, you may stay him. + +VERGES Nay, by 'r Lady, that I think he cannot. + +DOGBERRY Five shillings to one on 't, with any man that +knows the statutes, he may stay him--marry, not +without the Prince be willing, for indeed the watch +ought to offend no man, and it is an offense to stay a +man against his will. + +VERGES By 'r Lady, I think it be so. + +DOGBERRY Ha, ah ha!--Well, masters, goodnight. An +there be any matter of weight chances, call up me. +Keep your fellows' counsels and your own, and +goodnight.--Come, neighbor. +[Dogberry and Verges begin to exit.] + +SEACOAL Well, masters, we hear our charge. Let us go +sit here upon the church bench till two, and then all +to bed. + +DOGBERRY One word more, honest neighbors. I pray +you watch about Signior Leonato's door, for the +wedding being there tomorrow, there is a great coil +tonight. Adieu, be vigitant, I beseech you. +[Dogberry and Verges exit.] + +[Enter Borachio and Conrade.] + + +BORACHIO What, Conrade! + +SEACOAL, [aside] Peace, stir not. + +BORACHIO Conrade, I say! + +CONRADE Here, man, I am at thy elbow. + +BORACHIO Mass, and my elbow itched, I thought there +would a scab follow. + +CONRADE I will owe thee an answer for that. And now +forward with thy tale. + +BORACHIO Stand thee close, then, under this penthouse, +for it drizzles rain, and I will, like a true +drunkard, utter all to thee. + +SEACOAL, [aside] Some treason, masters. Yet stand +close. + +BORACHIO Therefore know, I have earned of Don +John a thousand ducats. + +CONRADE Is it possible that any villainy should be so +dear? + +BORACHIO Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible +any villainy should be so rich. For when rich +villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may +make what price they will. + +CONRADE I wonder at it. + +BORACHIO That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou +knowest that the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a +cloak, is nothing to a man. + +CONRADE Yes, it is apparel. + +BORACHIO I mean the fashion. + +CONRADE Yes, the fashion is the fashion. + +BORACHIO Tush, I may as well say the fool's the fool. +But seest thou not what a deformed thief this +fashion is? + +FIRST WATCHMAN, [aside] I know that Deformed. He +has been a vile thief this seven year. He goes up and +down like a gentleman. I remember his name. + +BORACHIO Didst thou not hear somebody? + +CONRADE No, 'twas the vane on the house. + +BORACHIO Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief +this fashion is, how giddily he turns about all the +hot bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty, +sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers +in the reechy painting, sometimes like god Bel's +priests in the old church window, sometimes like +the shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten +tapestry, where his codpiece seems as massy as his +club? + +CONRADE All this I see, and I see that the fashion wears +out more apparel than the man. But art not thou +thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast +shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the +fashion? + +BORACHIO Not so, neither. But know that I have tonight +wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, +by the name of Hero. She leans me out at +her mistress' chamber window, bids me a thousand +times goodnight. I tell this tale vilely. I should first +tell thee how the Prince, Claudio, and my master, +planted and placed and possessed by my master +Don John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable +amiable encounter. + +CONRADE And thought they Margaret was Hero? + +BORACHIO Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio, +but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; +and partly by his oaths, which first possessed them, +partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, +but chiefly by my villainy, which did confirm any +slander that Don John had made, away went Claudio +enraged, swore he would meet her as he was +appointed next morning at the temple, and there, +before the whole congregation, shame her with +what he saw o'ernight and send her home again +without a husband. + +FIRST WATCHMAN We charge you in the Prince's name +stand! + +SEACOAL Call up the right Master Constable. [Second +Watchman exits.] We have here recovered the most +dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in +the commonwealth. + +FIRST WATCHMAN And one Deformed is one of them. I +know him; he wears a lock. + +[Enter Dogberry, Verges, and Second Watchman.] + + +DOGBERRY Masters, masters-- + +FIRST WATCHMAN, [to Borachio] You'll be made bring +Deformed forth, I warrant you. + +DOGBERRY, [to Borachio and Conrade] Masters, never +speak, we charge you, let us obey you to go with us. + +BORACHIO, [to Conrade] We are like to prove a goodly +commodity, being taken up of these men's bills. + +CONRADE A commodity in question, I warrant you.-- +Come, we'll obey you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Hero, and Margaret, and Ursula.] + + +HERO Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice and +desire her to rise. + +URSULA I will, lady. + +HERO And bid her come hither. + +URSULA Well. [Ursula exits.] + +MARGARET Troth, I think your other rebato were +better. + +HERO No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this. + +MARGARET By my troth, 's not so good, and I warrant +your cousin will say so. + +HERO My cousin's a fool, and thou art another. I'll +wear none but this. + +MARGARET I like the new tire within excellently, if the +hair were a thought browner; and your gown's a +most rare fashion, i' faith. I saw the Duchess of +Milan's gown that they praise so. + +HERO O, that exceeds, they say. + +MARGARET By my troth, 's but a nightgown in respect +of yours--cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with +silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves, +and skirts round underborne with a bluish tinsel. +But for a fine, quaint, graceful, and excellent fashion, +yours is worth ten on 't. + +HERO God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is +exceeding heavy. + +MARGARET 'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a +man. + +HERO Fie upon thee! Art not ashamed? + +MARGARET Of what, lady? Of speaking honorably? Is +not marriage honorable in a beggar? Is not your +lord honorable without marriage? I think you +would have me say "Saving your reverence, a husband." +An bad thinking do not wrest true speaking, +I'll offend nobody. Is there any harm in "the heavier +for a husband"? None, I think, an it be the right +husband and the right wife. Otherwise, 'tis light and +not heavy. Ask my lady Beatrice else. Here she +comes. + +[Enter Beatrice.] + + +HERO Good morrow, coz. + +BEATRICE Good morrow, sweet Hero. + +HERO Why, how now? Do you speak in the sick tune? + +BEATRICE I am out of all other tune, methinks. + +MARGARET Clap 's into "Light o' love." That goes +without a burden. Do you sing it, and I'll dance it. + +BEATRICE You light o' love with your heels! Then, if +your husband have stables enough, you'll see he +shall lack no barns. + +MARGARET O, illegitimate construction! I scorn that +with my heels. + +BEATRICE 'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin. 'Tis time +you were ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill. +Heigh-ho! + +MARGARET For a hawk, a horse, or a husband? + +BEATRICE For the letter that begins them all, H. + +MARGARET Well, an you be not turned Turk, there's no +more sailing by the star. + +BEATRICE What means the fool, trow? + +MARGARET Nothing, I; but God send everyone their +heart's desire. + +HERO These gloves the Count sent me, they are an +excellent perfume. + +BEATRICE I am stuffed, cousin. I cannot smell. + +MARGARET A maid, and stuffed! There's goodly catching +of cold. + +BEATRICE O, God help me, God help me! How long +have you professed apprehension? + +MARGARET Ever since you left it. Doth not my wit +become me rarely? + +BEATRICE It is not seen enough; you should wear it in +your cap. By my troth, I am sick. + +MARGARET Get you some of this distilled carduus benedictus +and lay it to your heart. It is the only thing for +a qualm. + +HERO There thou prick'st her with a thistle. + +BEATRICE Benedictus! Why benedictus? You have some +moral in this benedictus? + +MARGARET Moral? No, by my troth, I have no moral +meaning; I meant plain holy thistle. You may think +perchance that I think you are in love. Nay, by 'r +Lady, I am not such a fool to think what I list, nor I +list not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot +think, if I would think my heart out of thinking, that +you are in love or that you will be in love or that you +can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and +now is he become a man. He swore he would never +marry, and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats +his meat without grudging. And how you may be +converted I know not, but methinks you look with +your eyes as other women do. + +BEATRICE What pace is this that thy tongue keeps? + +MARGARET Not a false gallop. + +[Enter Ursula.] + + +URSULA Madam, withdraw. The Prince, the Count, +Signior Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of +the town are come to fetch you to church. + +HERO Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good +Ursula. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Leonato, and Dogberry, the Constable, and +Verges, the Headborough.] + + +LEONATO What would you with me, honest neighbor? + +DOGBERRY Marry, sir, I would have some confidence +with you that decerns you nearly. + +LEONATO Brief, I pray you, for you see it is a busy time +with me. + +DOGBERRY Marry, this it is, sir. + +VERGES Yes, in truth, it is, sir. + +LEONATO What is it, my good friends? + +DOGBERRY Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the +matter. An old man, sir, and his wits are not so blunt +as, God help, I would desire they were, but, in faith, +honest as the skin between his brows. + +VERGES Yes, I thank God I am as honest as any man +living that is an old man and no honester than I. + +DOGBERRY Comparisons are odorous. Palabras, neighbor +Verges. + +LEONATO Neighbors, you are tedious. + +DOGBERRY It pleases your Worship to say so, but we +are the poor duke's officers. But truly, for mine +own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find +in my heart to bestow it all of your Worship. + +LEONATO All thy tediousness on me, ah? + +DOGBERRY Yea, an 'twere a thousand pound more +than 'tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your +Worship as of any man in the city, and though I be +but a poor man, I am glad to hear it. + +VERGES And so am I. + +LEONATO I would fain know what you have to say. + +VERGES Marry, sir, our watch tonight, excepting your +Worship's presence, ha' ta'en a couple of as arrant +knaves as any in Messina. + +DOGBERRY A good old man, sir. He will be talking. As +they say, "When the age is in, the wit is out." God +help us, it is a world to see!--Well said, i' faith, +neighbor Verges.--Well, God's a good man. An two +men ride of a horse, one must ride behind. An +honest soul, i' faith, sir, by my troth he is, as ever +broke bread, but God is to be worshiped, all men +are not alike, alas, good neighbor. + +LEONATO Indeed, neighbor, he comes too short of you. + +DOGBERRY Gifts that God gives. + +LEONATO I must leave you. + +DOGBERRY One word, sir. Our watch, sir, have indeed +comprehended two aspicious persons, and we +would have them this morning examined before +your Worship. + +LEONATO Take their examination yourself and bring it +me. I am now in great haste, as it may appear unto +you. + +DOGBERRY It shall be suffigance. + +LEONATO Drink some wine ere you go. Fare you well. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER My lord, they stay for you to give your +daughter to her husband. + +LEONATO I'll wait upon them. I am ready. +[He exits, with the Messenger.] + +DOGBERRY Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis +Seacoal. Bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the +jail. We are now to examination these men. + +VERGES And we must do it wisely. + +DOGBERRY We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. +Here's that shall drive some of them to a noncome. +Only get the learned writer to set down our excommunication +and meet me at the jail. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Prince, John the Bastard, Leonato, Friar, +Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice, with +Attendants.] + + +LEONATO Come, Friar Francis, be brief, only to the +plain form of marriage, and you shall recount their +particular duties afterwards. + +FRIAR, [to Claudio] You come hither, my lord, to marry +this lady? + +CLAUDIO No. + +LEONATO To be married to her.--Friar, you come to +marry her. + +FRIAR Lady, you come hither to be married to this +count? + +HERO I do. + +FRIAR If either of you know any inward impediment +why you should not be conjoined, I charge you on +your souls to utter it. + +CLAUDIO Know you any, Hero? + +HERO None, my lord. + +FRIAR Know you any, count? + +LEONATO I dare make his answer, none. + +CLAUDIO O, what men dare do! What men may do! +What men daily do, not knowing what they do! + +BENEDICK How now, interjections? Why, then, some +be of laughing, as ah, ha, he! + +CLAUDIO +Stand thee by, friar.--Father, by your leave, +Will you with free and unconstrained soul +Give me this maid, your daughter? + +LEONATO +As freely, son, as God did give her me. + +CLAUDIO +And what have I to give you back whose worth +May counterpoise this rich and precious gift? + +PRINCE +Nothing, unless you render her again. + +CLAUDIO +Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.-- +There, Leonato, take her back again. +Give not this rotten orange to your friend. +She's but the sign and semblance of her honor. +Behold how like a maid she blushes here! +O, what authority and show of truth +Can cunning sin cover itself withal! +Comes not that blood as modest evidence +To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear, +All you that see her, that she were a maid, +By these exterior shows? But she is none. +She knows the heat of a luxurious bed. +Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty. + +LEONATO +What do you mean, my lord? + +CLAUDIO Not to be married, +Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton. + +LEONATO +Dear my lord, if you in your own proof +Have vanquished the resistance of her youth, +And made defeat of her virginity-- + +CLAUDIO +I know what you would say: if I have known her, +You will say she did embrace me as a husband, +And so extenuate the forehand sin. +No, Leonato, +I never tempted her with word too large, +But, as a brother to his sister, showed +Bashful sincerity and comely love. + +HERO +And seemed I ever otherwise to you? + +CLAUDIO +Out on thee, seeming! I will write against it. +You seem to me as Dian in her orb, +As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown. +But you are more intemperate in your blood +Than Venus, or those pampered animals +That rage in savage sensuality. + +HERO +Is my lord well that he doth speak so wide? + +LEONATO +Sweet prince, why speak not you? + +PRINCE What should I +speak? +I stand dishonored that have gone about +To link my dear friend to a common stale. + +LEONATO +Are these things spoken, or do I but dream? + +DON JOHN +Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true. + +BENEDICK This looks not like a nuptial. + +HERO True! O God! + +CLAUDIO Leonato, stand I here? +Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's brother? +Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own? + +LEONATO +All this is so, but what of this, my lord? + +CLAUDIO +Let me but move one question to your daughter, +And by that fatherly and kindly power +That you have in her, bid her answer truly. + +LEONATO +I charge thee do so, as thou art my child. + +HERO +O, God defend me, how am I beset!-- +What kind of catechizing call you this? + +CLAUDIO +To make you answer truly to your name. + +HERO +Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name +With any just reproach? + +CLAUDIO Marry, that can Hero! +Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue. +What man was he talked with you yesternight +Out at your window betwixt twelve and one? +Now, if you are a maid, answer to this. + +HERO +I talked with no man at that hour, my lord. + +PRINCE +Why, then, are you no maiden.--Leonato, +I am sorry you must hear. Upon mine honor, +Myself, my brother, and this grieved count +Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night +Talk with a ruffian at her chamber window, +Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain, +Confessed the vile encounters they have had +A thousand times in secret. + +DON JOHN +Fie, fie, they are not to be named, my lord, +Not to be spoke of! +There is not chastity enough in language, +Without offense, to utter them.--Thus, pretty lady, +I am sorry for thy much misgovernment. + +CLAUDIO +O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been +If half thy outward graces had been placed +About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart! +But fare thee well, most foul, most fair. Farewell, +Thou pure impiety and impious purity. +For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love +And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang, +To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm, +And never shall it more be gracious. + +LEONATO +Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? +[Hero falls.] + +BEATRICE +Why, how now, cousin, wherefore sink you down? + +DON JOHN +Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light, +Smother her spirits up. +[Claudio, Prince, and Don John exit.] + +BENEDICK +How doth the lady? + +BEATRICE Dead, I think.--Help, uncle!-- +Hero, why Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar! + +LEONATO +O Fate, take not away thy heavy hand! +Death is the fairest cover for her shame +That may be wished for. + +BEATRICE How now, cousin Hero? [Hero stirs.] + +FRIAR, [to Hero] Have comfort, lady. + +LEONATO, [to Hero] +Dost thou look up? + +FRIAR Yea, wherefore should she not? + +LEONATO +Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing +Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny +The story that is printed in her blood?-- +Do not live, Hero, do not ope thine eyes, +For, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die, +Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames, +Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, +Strike at thy life. Grieved I I had but one? +Chid I for that at frugal Nature's frame? +O, one too much by thee! Why had I one? +Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes? +Why had I not with charitable hand +Took up a beggar's issue at my gates, +Who, smirched thus, and mired with infamy, +I might have said "No part of it is mine; +This shame derives itself from unknown loins"? +But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised, +And mine that I was proud on, mine so much +That I myself was to myself not mine, +Valuing of her--why she, O she, is fall'n +Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea +Hath drops too few to wash her clean again, +And salt too little which may season give +To her foul tainted flesh! + +BENEDICK Sir, sir, be patient. +For my part, I am so attired in wonder +I know not what to say. + +BEATRICE +O, on my soul, my cousin is belied! + +BENEDICK +Lady, were you her bedfellow last night? + +BEATRICE +No, truly not, although until last night +I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow. + +LEONATO +Confirmed, confirmed! O, that is stronger made +Which was before barred up with ribs of iron! +Would the two princes lie and Claudio lie, +Who loved her so that, speaking of her foulness, +Washed it with tears? Hence from her. Let her die! + +FRIAR Hear me a little, +For I have only silent been so long, +And given way unto this course of fortune, +By noting of the lady. I have marked +A thousand blushing apparitions +To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames +In angel whiteness beat away those blushes, +And in her eye there hath appeared a fire +To burn the errors that these princes hold +Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool, +Trust not my reading nor my observations, +Which with experimental seal doth warrant +The tenor of my book; trust not my age, +My reverence, calling, nor divinity, +If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here +Under some biting error. + +LEONATO Friar, it cannot be. +Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left +Is that she will not add to her damnation +A sin of perjury. She not denies it. +Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse +That which appears in proper nakedness? + +FRIAR +Lady, what man is he you are accused of? + +HERO +They know that do accuse me. I know none. +If I know more of any man alive +Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, +Let all my sins lack mercy!--O my father, +Prove you that any man with me conversed +At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight +Maintained the change of words with any creature, +Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death! + +FRIAR +There is some strange misprision in the princes. + +BENEDICK +Two of them have the very bent of honor, +And if their wisdoms be misled in this, +The practice of it lives in John the Bastard, +Whose spirits toil in frame of villainies. + +LEONATO +I know not. If they speak but truth of her, +These hands shall tear her. If they wrong her honor, +The proudest of them shall well hear of it. +Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, +Nor age so eat up my invention, +Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, +Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, +But they shall find, awaked in such a kind, +Both strength of limb and policy of mind, +Ability in means and choice of friends, +To quit me of them throughly. + +FRIAR Pause awhile, +And let my counsel sway you in this case. +Your daughter here the princes left for dead. +Let her awhile be secretly kept in, +And publish it that she is dead indeed. +Maintain a mourning ostentation, +And on your family's old monument +Hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites +That appertain unto a burial. + +LEONATO +What shall become of this? What will this do? + +FRIAR +Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf +Change slander to remorse. That is some good. +But not for that dream I on this strange course, +But on this travail look for greater birth. +She, dying, as it must be so maintained, +Upon the instant that she was accused, +Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused +Of every hearer. For it so falls out +That what we have we prize not to the worth +Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, +Why then we rack the value, then we find +The virtue that possession would not show us +Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio. +When he shall hear she died upon his words, +Th' idea of her life shall sweetly creep +Into his study of imagination, +And every lovely organ of her life +Shall come appareled in more precious habit, +More moving, delicate, and full of life, +Into the eye and prospect of his soul, +Than when she lived indeed. Then shall he mourn, +If ever love had interest in his liver, +And wish he had not so accused her, +No, though he thought his accusation true. +Let this be so, and doubt not but success +Will fashion the event in better shape +Than I can lay it down in likelihood. +But if all aim but this be leveled false, +The supposition of the lady's death +Will quench the wonder of her infamy. +And if it sort not well, you may conceal her, +As best befits her wounded reputation, +In some reclusive and religious life, +Out of all eyes, tongues, minds, and injuries. + +BENEDICK +Signior Leonato, let the Friar advise you. +And though you know my inwardness and love +Is very much unto the Prince and Claudio, +Yet, by mine honor, I will deal in this +As secretly and justly as your soul +Should with your body. + +LEONATO Being that I flow in grief, +The smallest twine may lead me. + +FRIAR +'Tis well consented. Presently away, + For to strange sores strangely they strain the + cure.-- +Come, lady, die to live. This wedding day + Perhaps is but prolonged. Have patience and + endure. +[All but Beatrice and Benedick exit.] + +BENEDICK Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while? + +BEATRICE Yea, and I will weep a while longer. + +BENEDICK I will not desire that. + +BEATRICE You have no reason. I do it freely. + +BENEDICK Surely I do believe your fair cousin is +wronged. + +BEATRICE Ah, how much might the man deserve of me +that would right her! + +BENEDICK Is there any way to show such friendship? + +BEATRICE A very even way, but no such friend. + +BENEDICK May a man do it? + +BEATRICE It is a man's office, but not yours. + +BENEDICK I do love nothing in the world so well as +you. Is not that strange? + +BEATRICE As strange as the thing I know not. It were as +possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you, +but believe me not, and yet I lie not; I confess +nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my +cousin. + +BENEDICK By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me! + +BEATRICE Do not swear and eat it. + +BENEDICK I will swear by it that you love me, and I will +make him eat it that says I love not you. + +BEATRICE Will you not eat your word? + +BENEDICK With no sauce that can be devised to it. I +protest I love thee. + +BEATRICE Why then, God forgive me. + +BENEDICK What offense, sweet Beatrice? + +BEATRICE You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was +about to protest I loved you. + +BENEDICK And do it with all thy heart. + +BEATRICE I love you with so much of my heart that +none is left to protest. + +BENEDICK Come, bid me do anything for thee. + +BEATRICE Kill Claudio. + +BENEDICK Ha! Not for the wide world. + +BEATRICE You kill me to deny it. Farewell. +[She begins to exit.] + +BENEDICK Tarry, sweet Beatrice. + +BEATRICE I am gone, though I am here. There is no +love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go. + +BENEDICK Beatrice-- + +BEATRICE In faith, I will go. + +BENEDICK We'll be friends first. + +BEATRICE You dare easier be friends with me than +fight with mine enemy. + +BENEDICK Is Claudio thine enemy? + +BEATRICE Is he not approved in the height a villain +that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? +O, that I were a man! What, bear her in +hand until they come to take hands, and then, with +public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated +rancor--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his +heart in the marketplace. + +BENEDICK Hear me, Beatrice-- + +BEATRICE Talk with a man out at a window! A proper +saying. + +BENEDICK Nay, but Beatrice-- + +BEATRICE Sweet Hero, she is wronged, she is slandered, +she is undone. + +BENEDICK Beat-- + +BEATRICE Princes and counties! Surely a princely testimony, +a goodly count, Count Comfect, a sweet +gallant, surely! O, that I were a man for his sake! Or +that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! +But manhood is melted into curtsies, valor into +compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, +and trim ones, too. He is now as valiant as Hercules +that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man +with wishing; therefore I will die a woman with +grieving. + +BENEDICK Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love +thee. + +BEATRICE Use it for my love some other way than +swearing by it. + +BENEDICK Think you in your soul the Count Claudio +hath wronged Hero? + +BEATRICE Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul. + +BENEDICK Enough, I am engaged. I will challenge +him. I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By +this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account. +As you hear of me, so think of me. Go comfort your +cousin. I must say she is dead, and so farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Constables Dogberry and Verges, and the +Town Clerk, or Sexton, in gowns, with the Watch, +Conrade, and Borachio.] + + +DOGBERRY Is our whole dissembly appeared? + +VERGES O, a stool and a cushion for the Sexton. +[A stool is brought in; the Sexton sits.] + +SEXTON Which be the malefactors? + +DOGBERRY Marry, that am I, and my partner. + +VERGES Nay, that's certain, we have the exhibition to +examine. + +SEXTON But which are the offenders that are to be +examined? Let them come before Master +Constable. + +DOGBERRY Yea, marry, let them come before me. +[Conrade and Borachio are brought forward.] +What is your name, friend? + +BORACHIO Borachio. + +DOGBERRY Pray, write down "Borachio."--Yours, +sirrah? + +CONRADE I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is +Conrade. + +DOGBERRY Write down "Master Gentleman Conrade."-- +Masters, do you serve God? + +BORACHIO/CONRADE Yea, sir, we hope. + +DOGBERRY Write down that they hope they serve +God; and write God first, for God defend but God +should go before such villains!--Masters, it is +proved already that you are little better than false +knaves, and it will go near to be thought so shortly. +How answer you for yourselves? + +CONRADE Marry, sir, we say we are none. + +DOGBERRY A marvelous witty fellow, I assure you, +but I will go about with him.--Come you hither, +sirrah, a word in your ear. Sir, I say to you it is +thought you are false knaves. + +BORACHIO Sir, I say to you we are none. + +DOGBERRY Well, stand aside.--'Fore God, they are +both in a tale. Have you writ down that they are +none? + +SEXTON Master constable, you go not the way to +examine. You must call forth the watch that are +their accusers. + +DOGBERRY Yea, marry, that's the eftest way.--Let +the watch come forth. Masters, I charge you in the +Prince's name, accuse these men. + +FIRST WATCHMAN This man said, sir, that Don John, the +Prince's brother, was a villain. + +DOGBERRY Write down Prince John a villain. Why, +this is flat perjury, to call a prince's brother villain! + +BORACHIO Master constable-- + +DOGBERRY Pray thee, fellow, peace. I do not like thy +look, I promise thee. + +SEXTON, [to Watch] What heard you him say else? + +SEACOAL Marry, that he had received a thousand +ducats of Don John for accusing the Lady Hero +wrongfully. + +DOGBERRY Flat burglary as ever was committed. + +VERGES Yea, by Mass, that it is. + +SEXTON What else, fellow? + +FIRST WATCHMAN And that Count Claudio did mean, +upon his words, to disgrace Hero before the whole +assembly, and not marry her. + +DOGBERRY, [to Borachio] O, villain! Thou wilt be condemned +into everlasting redemption for this! + +SEXTON What else? + +SEACOAL This is all. + +SEXTON And this is more, masters, than you can deny. +Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away. +Hero was in this manner accused, in this very +manner refused, and upon the grief of this suddenly +died.--Master constable, let these men be bound +and brought to Leonato's. I will go before and show +him their examination. [He exits.] + +DOGBERRY Come, let them be opinioned. + +VERGES Let them be in the hands-- + +CONRADE Off, coxcomb! + +DOGBERRY God's my life, where's the Sexton? Let +him write down the Prince's officer "coxcomb." +Come, bind them.--Thou naughty varlet! + +CONRADE Away! You are an ass, you are an ass! + +DOGBERRY Dost thou not suspect my place? Dost +thou not suspect my years? O, that he were here to +write me down an ass! But masters, remember that +I am an ass, though it be not written down, yet +forget not that I am an ass.--No, thou villain, thou +art full of piety, as shall be proved upon thee by +good witness. I am a wise fellow and, which is more, +an officer and, which is more, a householder and, +which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in +Messina, and one that knows the law, go to, and a +rich fellow enough, go to, and a fellow that hath had +losses, and one that hath two gowns and everything +handsome about him.--Bring him away.--O, that I +had been writ down an ass! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Leonato and his brother.] + + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +If you go on thus, you will kill yourself, +And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief +Against yourself. + +LEONATO I pray thee, cease thy counsel, +Which falls into mine ears as profitless +As water in a sieve. Give not me counsel, +Nor let no comforter delight mine ear +But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. +Bring me a father that so loved his child, +Whose joy of her is overwhelmed like mine, +And bid him speak of patience. +Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, +And let it answer every strain for strain, +As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, +In every lineament, branch, shape, and form. +If such a one will smile and stroke his beard, +Bid sorrow wag, cry "hem" when he should +groan, +Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk +With candle-wasters, bring him yet to me, +And I of him will gather patience. +But there is no such man. For, brother, men +Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief +Which they themselves not feel, but tasting it, +Their counsel turns to passion, which before +Would give preceptial med'cine to rage, +Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, +Charm ache with air and agony with words. +No, no, 'tis all men's office to speak patience +To those that wring under the load of sorrow, +But no man's virtue nor sufficiency +To be so moral when he shall endure +The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel. +My griefs cry louder than advertisement. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Therein do men from children nothing differ. + +LEONATO +I pray thee, peace. I will be flesh and blood, +For there was never yet philosopher +That could endure the toothache patiently, +However they have writ the style of gods +And made a push at chance and sufferance. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself. +Make those that do offend you suffer too. + +LEONATO +There thou speak'st reason. Nay, I will do so. +My soul doth tell me Hero is belied, +And that shall Claudio know; so shall the Prince +And all of them that thus dishonor her. + +[Enter Prince and Claudio.] + + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Here comes the Prince and Claudio hastily. + +PRINCE +Good e'en, good e'en. + +CLAUDIO Good day to both of you. + +LEONATO +Hear you, my lords-- + +PRINCE We have some haste, +Leonato. + +LEONATO +Some haste, my lord! Well, fare you well, my lord. +Are you so hasty now? Well, all is one. + +PRINCE +Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +If he could right himself with quarrelling, +Some of us would lie low. + +CLAUDIO Who wrongs him? + +LEONATO +Marry, thou dost wrong me, thou dissembler, thou. +Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword. +I fear thee not. + +CLAUDIO Marry, beshrew my hand +If it should give your age such cause of fear. +In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword. + +LEONATO +Tush, tush, man, never fleer and jest at me. +I speak not like a dotard nor a fool, +As under privilege of age to brag +What I have done being young, or what would do +Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head, +Thou hast so wronged mine innocent child and me +That I am forced to lay my reverence by, +And with gray hairs and bruise of many days +Do challenge thee to trial of a man. +I say thou hast belied mine innocent child. +Thy slander hath gone through and through her +heart, +And she lies buried with her ancestors, +O, in a tomb where never scandal slept, +Save this of hers, framed by thy villainy. + +CLAUDIO +My villainy? + +LEONATO Thine, Claudio, thine, I say. + +PRINCE +You say not right, old man. + +LEONATO My lord, my lord, +I'll prove it on his body if he dare, +Despite his nice fence and his active practice, +His May of youth and bloom of lustihood. + +CLAUDIO +Away! I will not have to do with you. + +LEONATO +Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast killed my child. +If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +He shall kill two of us, and men indeed, +But that's no matter. Let him kill one first. +Win me and wear me! Let him answer me.-- +Come, follow me, boy. Come, sir boy, come, follow +me. +Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence, +Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will. + +LEONATO Brother-- + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece, +And she is dead, slandered to death by villains +That dare as well answer a man indeed +As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.-- +Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops! + +LEONATO Brother Anthony-- + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea, +And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple-- +Scambling, outfacing, fashionmonging boys, +That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander, +Go anticly and show outward hideousness, +And speak off half a dozen dang'rous words +How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst, +And this is all. + +LEONATO But brother Anthony-- + +LEONATO'S BROTHER Come, 'tis no matter. +Do not you meddle. Let me deal in this. + +PRINCE +Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience. +My heart is sorry for your daughter's death, +But, on my honor, she was charged with nothing +But what was true and very full of proof. + +LEONATO My lord, my lord-- + +PRINCE I will not hear you. + +LEONATO +No? Come, brother, away. I will be heard. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +And shall, or some of us will smart for it. +[Leonato and his brother exit.] + +[Enter Benedick.] + + +PRINCE +See, see, here comes the man we went to seek. + +CLAUDIO Now, signior, what news? + +BENEDICK, [to Prince] Good day, my lord. + +PRINCE Welcome, signior. You are almost come to +part almost a fray. + +CLAUDIO We had like to have had our two noses +snapped off with two old men without teeth. + +PRINCE Leonato and his brother. What think'st thou? +Had we fought, I doubt we should have been too +young for them. + +BENEDICK In a false quarrel there is no true valor. I +came to seek you both. + +CLAUDIO We have been up and down to seek thee, for +we are high-proof melancholy and would fain have +it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit? + +BENEDICK It is in my scabbard. Shall I draw it? + +PRINCE Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side? + +CLAUDIO Never any did so, though very many have +been beside their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do +the minstrels: draw to pleasure us. + +PRINCE As I am an honest man, he looks pale.--Art +thou sick, or angry? + +CLAUDIO, [to Benedick] What, courage, man! What +though care killed a cat? Thou hast mettle enough +in thee to kill care. + +BENEDICK Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, an +you charge it against me. I pray you, choose another +subject. + +CLAUDIO, [to Prince] Nay, then, give him another staff. +This last was broke 'cross. + +PRINCE By this light, he changes more and more. I +think he be angry indeed. + +CLAUDIO If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle. + +BENEDICK Shall I speak a word in your ear? + +CLAUDIO God bless me from a challenge! + +BENEDICK, [aside to Claudio] You are a villain. I jest +not. I will make it good how you dare, with what you +dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will +protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet +lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me +hear from you. + +CLAUDIO Well, I will meet you, so I may have good +cheer. + +PRINCE What, a feast, a feast? + +CLAUDIO I' faith, I thank him. He hath bid me to a +calf's head and a capon, the which if I do not carve +most curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not +find a woodcock too? + +BENEDICK Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily. + +PRINCE I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the +other day. I said thou hadst a fine wit. "True," said +she, "a fine little one." "No," said I, "a great wit." +"Right," says she, "a great gross one." "Nay," said I, +"a good wit." "Just," said she, "it hurts nobody." +"Nay," said I, "the gentleman is wise." "Certain," +said she, "a wise gentleman." "Nay," said I, "he +hath the tongues." "That I believe," said she, "for he +swore a thing to me on Monday night which he +forswore on Tuesday morning; there's a double +tongue, there's two tongues." Thus did she an hour +together transshape thy particular virtues. Yet at +last she concluded with a sigh, thou wast the +proper'st man in Italy. + +CLAUDIO For the which she wept heartily and said she +cared not. + +PRINCE Yea, that she did. But yet for all that, an if she +did not hate him deadly, she would love him +dearly. The old man's daughter told us all. + +CLAUDIO All, all. And, moreover, God saw him when +he was hid in the garden. + +PRINCE But when shall we set the savage bull's horns +on the sensible Benedick's head? + +CLAUDIO Yea, and text underneath: "Here dwells Benedick, +the married man"? + +BENEDICK Fare you well, boy. You know my mind. I +will leave you now to your gossip-like humor. You +break jests as braggarts do their blades, which, God +be thanked, hurt not.--My lord, for your many +courtesies I thank you. I must discontinue your +company. Your brother the Bastard is fled from +Messina. You have among you killed a sweet and +innocent lady. For my Lord Lackbeard there, he and +I shall meet, and till then peace be with him. +[Benedick exits.] + +PRINCE He is in earnest. + +CLAUDIO In most profound earnest, and, I'll warrant +you, for the love of Beatrice. + +PRINCE And hath challenged thee? + +CLAUDIO Most sincerely. + +PRINCE What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his +doublet and hose and leaves off his wit! + +CLAUDIO He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape +a doctor to such a man. + +PRINCE But soft you, let me be. Pluck up, my heart, +and be sad. Did he not say my brother was fled? + +[Enter Constables Dogberry and Verges, and the Watch, +with Conrade and Borachio.] + + +DOGBERRY Come you, sir. If justice cannot tame you, +she shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance. +Nay, an you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must +be looked to. + +PRINCE How now, two of my brother's men bound? +Borachio one! + +CLAUDIO Hearken after their offense, my lord. + +PRINCE Officers, what offense have these men done? + +DOGBERRY Marry, sir, they have committed false +report; moreover, they have spoken untruths; +secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they +have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust +things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves. + +PRINCE First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I +ask thee what's their offense; sixth and lastly, why +they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay +to their charge. + +CLAUDIO Rightly reasoned, and in his own division; +and, by my troth, there's one meaning well suited. + +PRINCE, [to Borachio and Conrade] Who have you offended, +masters, that you are thus bound to your +answer? This learned constable is too cunning to be +understood. What's your offense? + +BORACHIO Sweet prince, let me go no farther to mine +answer. Do you hear me, and let this count kill me. +I have deceived even your very eyes. What your +wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools +have brought to light, who in the night overheard +me confessing to this man how Don John your +brother incensed me to slander the Lady Hero, how +you were brought into the orchard and saw me +court Margaret in Hero's garments, how you disgraced +her when you should marry her. My villainy +they have upon record, which I had rather seal with +my death than repeat over to my shame. The lady is +dead upon mine and my master's false accusation. +And, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a +villain. + +PRINCE, [to Claudio] +Runs not this speech like iron through your blood? + +CLAUDIO +I have drunk poison whiles he uttered it. + +PRINCE, [to Borachio] +But did my brother set thee on to this? + +BORACHIO Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of +it. + +PRINCE +He is composed and framed of treachery, +And fled he is upon this villainy. + +CLAUDIO +Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear +In the rare semblance that I loved it first. + +DOGBERRY Come, bring away the plaintiffs. By this +time our sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of +the matter. And, masters, do not forget to specify, +when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass. + +VERGES Here, here comes Master Signior Leonato, +and the Sexton too. + +[Enter Leonato, his brother, and the Sexton.] + + +LEONATO +Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes, +That, when I note another man like him, +I may avoid him. Which of these is he? + +BORACHIO +If you would know your wronger, look on me. + +LEONATO +Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast killed +Mine innocent child? + +BORACHIO Yea, even I alone. + +LEONATO +No, not so, villain, thou beliest thyself. +Here stand a pair of honorable men-- +A third is fled--that had a hand in it.-- +I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death. +Record it with your high and worthy deeds. +'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. + +CLAUDIO +I know not how to pray your patience, +Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself. +Impose me to what penance your invention +Can lay upon my sin. Yet sinned I not +But in mistaking. + +PRINCE By my soul, nor I, +And yet to satisfy this good old man +I would bend under any heavy weight +That he'll enjoin me to. + +LEONATO +I cannot bid you bid my daughter live-- +That were impossible--but, I pray you both, +Possess the people in Messina here +How innocent she died. And if your love +Can labor aught in sad invention, +Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb +And sing it to her bones. Sing it tonight. +Tomorrow morning come you to my house, +And since you could not be my son-in-law, +Be yet my nephew. My brother hath a daughter, +Almost the copy of my child that's dead, +And she alone is heir to both of us. +Give her the right you should have giv'n her cousin, +And so dies my revenge. + +CLAUDIO O, noble sir! +Your overkindness doth wring tears from me. +I do embrace your offer and dispose +For henceforth of poor Claudio. + +LEONATO +Tomorrow then I will expect your coming. +Tonight I take my leave. This naughty man +Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, +Who I believe was packed in all this wrong, +Hired to it by your brother. + +BORACHIO No, by my soul, she was not, +Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me, +But always hath been just and virtuous +In anything that I do know by her. + +DOGBERRY, [to Leonato] Moreover, sir, which indeed is +not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the +offender, did call me ass. I beseech you, let it be +remembered in his punishment. And also the watch +heard them talk of one Deformed. They say he +wears a key in his ear and a lock hanging by it and +borrows money in God's name, the which he hath +used so long and never paid that now men grow +hardhearted and will lend nothing for God's sake. +Pray you, examine him upon that point. + +LEONATO I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. + +DOGBERRY Your Worship speaks like a most thankful +and reverent youth, and I praise God for you. + +LEONATO, [giving him money] There's for thy pains. + +DOGBERRY God save the foundation. + +LEONATO Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I +thank thee. + +DOGBERRY I leave an arrant knave with your Worship, +which I beseech your Worship to correct +yourself, for the example of others. God keep your +Worship! I wish your Worship well. God restore you +to health. I humbly give you leave to depart, and if a +merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it.-- +Come, neighbor. [Dogberry and Verges exit.] + +LEONATO +Until tomorrow morning, lords, farewell. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Farewell, my lords. We look for you tomorrow. + +PRINCE +We will not fail. + +CLAUDIO Tonight I'll mourn with Hero. + +LEONATO, [to Watch] +Bring you these fellows on.--We'll talk with +Margaret, +How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Benedick and Margaret.] + + +BENEDICK Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve +well at my hands by helping me to the speech of +Beatrice. + +MARGARET Will you then write me a sonnet in praise +of my beauty? + +BENEDICK In so high a style, Margaret, that no man +living shall come over it, for in most comely truth +thou deservest it. + +MARGARET To have no man come over me? Why, shall I +always keep below stairs? + +BENEDICK Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's +mouth; it catches. + +MARGARET And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, +which hit but hurt not. + +BENEDICK A most manly wit, Margaret; it will not hurt +a woman. And so, I pray thee, call Beatrice. I give +thee the bucklers. + +MARGARET Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our +own. + +BENEDICK If you use them, Margaret, you must put in +the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous +weapons for maids. + +MARGARET Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I +think hath legs. + +BENEDICK And therefore will come. +[Margaret exits.] +[Sings] The god of love + That sits above, + And knows me, and knows me, + How pitiful I deserve-- +I mean in singing. But in loving, Leander the good +swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and +a whole book full of these quondam carpetmongers, +whose names yet run smoothly in the even +road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly +turned over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, +I cannot show it in rhyme. I have tried. I can find out +no rhyme to "lady" but "baby"--an innocent +rhyme; for "scorn," "horn"--a hard rhyme; for +"school," "fool"--a babbling rhyme; very ominous +endings. No, I was not born under a rhyming +planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms. + +[Enter Beatrice.] + +Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called +thee? + +BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. + +BENEDICK O, stay but till then! + +BEATRICE "Then" is spoken. Fare you well now. And +yet, ere I go, let me go with that I came, which is, +with knowing what hath passed between you and +Claudio. + +BENEDICK Only foul words, and thereupon I will kiss +thee. + +BEATRICE Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is +but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome. Therefore +I will depart unkissed. + +BENEDICK Thou hast frighted the word out of his right +sense, so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee +plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge, and either +I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe +him a coward. And I pray thee now tell me, for +which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love +with me? + +BEATRICE For them all together, which maintained so +politic a state of evil that they will not admit any +good part to intermingle with them. But for which +of my good parts did you first suffer love for me? + +BENEDICK Suffer love! A good epithet. I do suffer love +indeed, for I love thee against my will. + +BEATRICE In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor +heart, if you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for +yours, for I will never love that which my friend +hates. + +BENEDICK Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably. + +BEATRICE It appears not in this confession. There's not +one wise man among twenty that will praise +himself. + +BENEDICK An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived +in the time of good neighbors. If a man do not erect +in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no +longer in monument than the bell rings and the +widow weeps. + +BEATRICE And how long is that, think you? + +BENEDICK Question: why, an hour in clamor and a +quarter in rheum. Therefore is it most expedient for +the wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no +impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of +his own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for +praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is +praiseworthy. And now tell me, how doth your +cousin? + +BEATRICE Very ill. + +BENEDICK And how do you? + +BEATRICE Very ill, too. + +BENEDICK Serve God, love me, and mend. There will I +leave you too, for here comes one in haste. + +[Enter Ursula.] + + +URSULA Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's +old coil at home. It is proved my Lady Hero +hath been falsely accused, the Prince and Claudio +mightily abused, and Don John is the author of all, +who is fled and gone. Will you come presently? +[Ursula exits.] + +BEATRICE Will you go hear this news, signior? + +BENEDICK I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be +buried in thy eyes--and, moreover, I will go with +thee to thy uncle's. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Claudio, Prince, and three or four Lords with +tapers, and Musicians.] + + +CLAUDIO Is this the monument of Leonato? + +FIRST LORD It is, my lord. + +CLAUDIO, [reading an Epitaph.] + + Done to death by slanderous tongues + Was the Hero that here lies. + Death, in guerdon of her wrongs, + Gives her fame which never dies. + So the life that died with shame + Lives in death with glorious fame. +[He hangs up the scroll.] +Hang thou there upon the tomb, +Praising her when I am dumb. +Now music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn. + +Song + + Pardon, goddess of the night, + Those that slew thy virgin knight, + For the which with songs of woe, + Round about her tomb they go. + Midnight, assist our moan. + Help us to sigh and groan + Heavily, heavily. + Graves, yawn and yield your dead, + Till death be uttered, + Heavily, heavily. + +CLAUDIO +Now, unto thy bones, goodnight. +Yearly will I do this rite. + +PRINCE +Good morrow, masters. Put your torches out. + The wolves have preyed, and look, the gentle day +Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about + Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray. +Thanks to you all, and leave us. Fare you well. + +CLAUDIO +Good morrow, masters. Each his several way. +[Lords and Musicians exit.] + +PRINCE +Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds, + And then to Leonato's we will go. + +CLAUDIO +And Hymen now with luckier issue speed 's, + Than this for whom we rendered up this woe. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Leonato, Benedick, Beatrice, Margaret, Ursula, +Leonato's brother, Friar, Hero.] + + +FRIAR +Did I not tell you she was innocent? + +LEONATO +So are the Prince and Claudio, who accused her +Upon the error that you heard debated. +But Margaret was in some fault for this, +Although against her will, as it appears +In the true course of all the question. + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Well, I am glad that all things sorts so well. + +BENEDICK +And so am I, being else by faith enforced +To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. + +LEONATO +Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all, +Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves, +And when I send for you, come hither masked. +The Prince and Claudio promised by this hour +To visit me.--You know your office, brother. +You must be father to your brother's daughter, +And give her to young Claudio. [The ladies exit.] + +LEONATO'S BROTHER +Which I will do with confirmed countenance. + +BENEDICK +Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think. + +FRIAR To do what, signior? + +BENEDICK +To bind me, or undo me, one of them.-- +Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior, +Your niece regards me with an eye of favor. + +LEONATO +That eye my daughter lent her; 'tis most true. + +BENEDICK +And I do with an eye of love requite her. + +LEONATO +The sight whereof I think you had from me, +From Claudio, and the Prince. But what's your will? + +BENEDICK +Your answer, sir, is enigmatical. +But for my will, my will is your goodwill +May stand with ours, this day to be conjoined +In the state of honorable marriage-- +In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. + +LEONATO +My heart is with your liking. + +FRIAR And my help. +Here comes the Prince and Claudio. + +[Enter Prince, and Claudio, and two or three other.] + + +PRINCE Good morrow to this fair assembly. + +LEONATO +Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio. +We here attend you. Are you yet determined +Today to marry with my brother's daughter? + +CLAUDIO +I'll hold my mind were she an Ethiope. + +LEONATO +Call her forth, brother. Here's the Friar ready. +[Leonato's brother exits.] + +PRINCE +Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter +That you have such a February face, +So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness? + +CLAUDIO +I think he thinks upon the savage bull. +Tush, fear not, man. We'll tip thy horns with gold, +And all Europa shall rejoice at thee, +As once Europa did at lusty Jove +When he would play the noble beast in love. + +BENEDICK +Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low, +And some such strange bull leapt your father's cow +And got a calf in that same noble feat +Much like to you, for you have just his bleat. + +CLAUDIO +For this I owe you. Here comes other reck'nings. + +[Enter Leonato's brother, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, +Ursula, the ladies masked.] + +Which is the lady I must seize upon? + +LEONATO +This same is she, and I do give you her. + +CLAUDIO +Why, then, she's mine.--Sweet, let me see your face. + +LEONATO +No, that you shall not till you take her hand +Before this friar and swear to marry her. + +CLAUDIO, [to Hero] +Give me your hand before this holy friar. +[They take hands.] +I am your husband, if you like of me. + +HERO +And when I lived, I was your other wife, +And when you loved, you were my other husband. +[She unmasks.] + +CLAUDIO +Another Hero! + +HERO Nothing certainer. +One Hero died defiled, but I do live, +And surely as I live, I am a maid. + +PRINCE +The former Hero! Hero that is dead! + +LEONATO +She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived. + +FRIAR +All this amazement can I qualify, +When after that the holy rites are ended, +I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death. +Meantime let wonder seem familiar, +And to the chapel let us presently. + +BENEDICK +Soft and fair, friar.--Which is Beatrice? + +BEATRICE, [unmasking] +I answer to that name. What is your will? + +BENEDICK +Do not you love me? + +BEATRICE Why no, no more than reason. + +BENEDICK +Why then, your uncle and the Prince and Claudio +Have been deceived. They swore you did. + +BEATRICE +Do not you love me? + +BENEDICK Troth, no, no more than reason. + +BEATRICE +Why then, my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula +Are much deceived, for they did swear you did. + +BENEDICK +They swore that you were almost sick for me. + +BEATRICE +They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me. + +BENEDICK +'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me? + +BEATRICE +No, truly, but in friendly recompense. + +LEONATO +Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman. + +CLAUDIO +And I'll be sworn upon 't that he loves her, +For here's a paper written in his hand, +A halting sonnet of his own pure brain, +Fashioned to Beatrice. [He shows a paper.] + +HERO And here's another, +Writ in my cousin's hand, stol'n from her pocket, +Containing her affection unto Benedick. +[She shows a paper.] + +BENEDICK A miracle! Here's our own hands against +our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light +I take thee for pity. + +BEATRICE I would not deny you, but by this good day, I +yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your +life, for I was told you were in a consumption. + +BENEDICK Peace! I will stop your mouth. +[They kiss.] + +PRINCE +How dost thou, Benedick, the married man? + +BENEDICK I'll tell thee what, prince: a college of +wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. +Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? +No. If a man will be beaten with brains, he shall +wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I +do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any +purpose that the world can say against it, and +therefore never flout at me for what I have said +against it. For man is a giddy thing, and this is my +conclusion.--For thy part, Claudio, I did think to +have beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my +kinsman, live unbruised, and love my cousin. + +CLAUDIO I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied +Beatrice, that I might have cudgeled thee out of thy +single life, to make thee a double-dealer, which out +of question thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look +exceeding narrowly to thee. + +BENEDICK Come, come, we are friends. Let's have a +dance ere we are married, that we may lighten our +own hearts and our wives' heels. + +LEONATO We'll have dancing afterward. + +BENEDICK First, of my word! Therefore play, music.-- +Prince, thou art sad. Get thee a wife, get thee a wife. +There is no staff more reverend than one tipped +with horn. + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER, [to Prince] +My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, +And brought with armed men back to Messina. + +BENEDICK, [to Prince] Think not on him till tomorrow. +I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.--Strike +up, pipers! [Music plays. They dance.] +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/othello_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/othello_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b69fb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/othello_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5730 @@ +Othello +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/othello/ +Created on May 11, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.1 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +OTHELLO, a Moorish general in the Venetian army +DESDEMONA, a Venetian lady +BRABANTIO, a Venetian senator, father to Desdemona +IAGO, Othello's standard-bearer, or "ancient" +EMILIA, Iago's wife and Desdemona's attendant +CASSIO, Othello's second-in-command, or lieutenant +RODERIGO, a Venetian gentleman +Duke of Venice +Venetian gentlemen, kinsmen to Brabantio: + LODOVICO + GRATIANO +Venetian senators +MONTANO, an official in Cyprus +BIANCA, a woman in Cyprus in love with Cassio +Clown, a comic servant to Othello and Desdemona +Gentlemen of Cyprus +Sailors +Servants, Attendants, Officers, Messengers, Herald, Musicians, Torchbearers. + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Roderigo and Iago.] + + +RODERIGO +Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO 'Sblood, but you'll not hear me! +If ever I did dream of such a matter, +Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou toldst me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO Despise me +If I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capped to him; and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. +But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them with a bombast circumstance, +Horribly stuffed with epithets of war, +And in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators. For "Certes," says he, +"I have already chose my officer." +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damned in a fair wife, +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster--unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he. Mere prattle without practice +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had th' election; +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds +Christened and heathen, must be beleed and +calmed +By debitor and creditor. This countercaster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I, God bless the mark, his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service. +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to th' first. Now, sir, be judge yourself +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him, then. + +IAGO O, sir, content you. +I follow him to serve my turn upon him. +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly followed. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For naught but provender, and when he's old, +cashiered. +Whip me such honest knaves! Others there are +Who, trimmed in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them; and when they have lined +their coats, +Do themselves homage. These fellows have some +soul, +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. +In following him, I follow but myself. +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so for my peculiar end. +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In complement extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at. I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe +If he can carry 't thus! + +IAGO Call up her father. +Rouse him. Make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such chances of vexation on 't +As it may lose some color. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house. I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! What ho, Brabantio! Thieves, thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! +Thieves, thieves! + +[Enter Brabantio, above.] + + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors locked? + +BRABANTIO Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +Zounds, sir, you're robbed. For shame, put on your +gown! +Your heart is burst. You have lost half your soul. +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. +Arise, I say! + +BRABANTIO What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO Not I. What are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO The worser welcome. +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors. +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee. And now in madness, +Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts, +Upon malicious bravery dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO Sir, sir, sir-- + +BRABANTIO But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO What tell'st thou me of robbing? +This is Venice. My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you-- + +IAGO Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse, +you'll have your nephews neigh to you, you'll have +coursers for cousins and jennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with +two backs. + +BRABANTIO Thou art a villain. + +IAGO You are a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer anything. But I beseech you, +If 't be your pleasure and most wise consent-- +As partly I find it is--that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' th' night, +Transported with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor: +If this be known to you, and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs. +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That from the sense of all civility +I thus would play and trifle with your Reverence. +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt, +Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and everywhere. Straight satisfy yourself. +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper. Call up all my people. +This accident is not unlike my dream. +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say, light! [He exits.] + +IAGO, [to Roderigo] Farewell, for I must leave you. +It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place +To be producted, as if I stay I shall, +Against the Moor. For I do know the state, +However this may gall him with some check, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embarked +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stands in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none +To lead their business. In which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love-- +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find +him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search, +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [He exits.] + +[Enter Brabantio in his nightgown, with Servants and +Torches.] + + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil. Gone she is, +And what's to come of my despised time +Is naught but bitterness.--Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her?--O, unhappy girl!-- +With the Moor, sayst thou?--Who would be a +father?-- +How didst thou know 'twas she?--O, she deceives +me +Past thought!--What said she to you?--Get more +tapers. +Raise all my kindred.--Are they married, think +you? + +RODERIGO Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act.--Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother.--O, would you had had her!-- +Some one way, some another.--Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you lead on. At every house I'll call. +I may command at most.--Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night.-- +On, good Roderigo. I will deserve your pains. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.] + + +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' th' conscience +To do no contrived murder. I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service. Nine or ten times +I had thought t' have yerked him here under the +ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO Nay, but he prated +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your Honor, +That with the little godliness I have +I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the Duke's. He will divorce you +Or put upon you what restraint or grievance +The law (with all his might to enforce it on) +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO Let him do his spite. +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know +(Which, when I know that boasting is an honor, +I shall promulgate) I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reached. For know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But look, what lights come +yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends. +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO Not I. I must be found. +My parts, my title, and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO By Janus, I think no. + +[Enter Cassio, with Officers, and Torches.] + + +OTHELLO +The servants of the Duke and my lieutenant! +The goodness of the night upon you, friends. +What is the news? + +CASSIO The Duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus, as I may divine. +It is a business of some heat. The galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the Consuls, raised and met, +Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly +called for. +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The Senate hath sent about three several quests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO 'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house +And go with you. [He exits.] + +CASSIO Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack. +If it prove lawful prize, he's made forever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO He's married. + +CASSIO To who? + +IAGO +Marry, to-- + +[Reenter Othello.] + +Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +[Enter Brabantio, Roderigo, with Officers, and Torches.] + + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised, +He comes to bad intent. + +OTHELLO Holla, stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO Down with him, +thief! +[They draw their swords.] + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! Come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust +them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O, thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my +daughter? +Damned as thou art, thou hast enchanted her! +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, t' incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou--to fear, not to delight! +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practiced on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weakens motion. I'll have 't disputed on. +'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practicer +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.-- +Lay hold upon him. If he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining and the rest. +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter.--Whither will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO What if I do obey? +How may the Duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state, +To bring me to him? + +OFFICER 'Tis true, most worthy signior. +The Duke's in council, and your noble self +I am sure is sent for. + +BRABANTIO How? The Duke in council? +In this time of the night? Bring him away; +Mine's not an idle cause. The Duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own. +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bondslaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.] + + +DUKE, [reading a paper] +There's no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +FIRST SENATOR, [reading a paper] +Indeed, they are disproportioned. +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE +And mine, a hundred forty. + +SECOND SENATOR, [reading a paper] +And mine, two hundred. +But though they jump not on a just account +(As in these cases, where the aim reports +'Tis oft with difference), yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment. +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +SAILOR, [within] What ho, what ho, what ho! + +[Enter Sailor.] + + +OFFICER A messenger from the galleys. + +DUKE Now, what's the business? + +SAILOR +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes. +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. [He exits.] + +DUKE +How say you by this change? + +FIRST SENATOR This cannot be, +By no assay of reason. 'Tis a pageant +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +Th' importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand +That, as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks th' abilities +That Rhodes is dressed in--if we make thought of +this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskillful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +OFFICER Here is more news. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +The Ottomites, Reverend and Gracious, +Steering with due course toward the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +FIRST SENATOR +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +MESSENGER +Of thirty sail; and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank +appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. [He exits.] + +DUKE 'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +FIRST SENATOR +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE Write from us to him. +Post-post-haste. Dispatch. + +FIRST SENATOR +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +[Enter Brabantio, Othello, Cassio, Iago, Roderigo, and +Officers.] + + +DUKE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. +[To Brabantio.] I did not see you. Welcome, gentle +signior. +We lacked your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your Grace, pardon me. +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general +care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so floodgate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +FIRST SENATOR Dead? + +BRABANTIO Ay, to me. +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so prepost'rously to err-- +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense-- +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter, +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO Humbly I thank your Grace. +Here is the man--this Moor, whom now it seems +Your special mandate for the state affairs +Hath hither brought. + +ALL We are very sorry for 't. + +DUKE, [to Othello] +What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters: +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true I have married her. +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace; +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle. +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious +patience, +I will a round unvarnished tale deliver +Of my whole course of love--what drugs, what +charms, +What conjuration, and what mighty magic +(For such proceeding I am charged withal) +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO A maiden never bold, +Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion +Blushed at herself. And she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, everything, +To fall in love with what she feared to look on! +It is a judgment maimed and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practices of cunning hell +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE To vouch this is no proof +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +FIRST SENATOR But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request, and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary +And let her speak of me before her father. +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them. You best know the place. +[Iago and Attendants exit.] +And till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me, oft invited me, +Still questioned me the story of my life +From year to year--the battles, sieges, fortunes +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days +To th' very moment that he bade me tell it, +Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances: +Of moving accidents by flood and field, +Of hairbreadth 'scapes i' th' imminent deadly +breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence, +And portance in my traveler's history, +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads +touch heaven, +It was my hint to speak--such was my process-- +And of the cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to +hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline. +But still the house affairs would draw her thence, +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch +She'd come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse. Which I, observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively. I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffered. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. +She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing +strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful. +She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished +That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked +me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story, +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake. +She loved me for the dangers I had passed, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used. +Here comes the lady. Let her witness it. + +[Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.] + + +DUKE +I think this tale would win my daughter, too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best. +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO I pray you hear her speak. +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head if my bad blame +Light on the man.--Come hither, gentle mistress. +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty. +To you I am bound for life and education. +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you. You are the lord of duty. +I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my +husband. +And so much duty as my mother showed +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO God be with you! I have done. +Please it your Grace, on to the state affairs. +I had rather to adopt a child than get it.-- +Come hither, Moor. +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee.--For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child, +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them.--I have done, my lord. + +DUKE +Let me speak like yourself and lay a sentence, +Which as a grise or step may help these lovers +Into your favor. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes, +Patience her injury a mock'ry makes. +The robbed that smiles steals something from the +thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile, +We lose it not so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears; +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences to sugar or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal. +But words are words. I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the +ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to th' affairs of +state. + +DUKE The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes +for Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is +best known to you. And though we have there a +substitute of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you. You must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boist'rous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +This present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly, therefore, bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife, +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE +Why, at her father's. + +BRABANTIO I will not have it so. + +OTHELLO Nor I. + +DESDEMONA Nor would I there reside +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear +And let me find a charter in your voice +T' assist my simpleness. + +DUKE What would you, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I love the Moor to live with him +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord. +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honors and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for why I love him are bereft me +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO Let her have your voice. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat (the young affects +In me defunct) and proper satisfaction, +But to be free and bounteous to her mind. +And heaven defend your good souls that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me. No, when light-winged toys +Of feathered Cupid seel with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation. + +DUKE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going. Th' affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +FIRST SENATOR +You must away tonight. + +OTHELLO With all my +heart. + +DUKE +At nine i' th' morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind +And he shall our commission bring to you, +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO So please your Grace, my +ancient. +A man he is of honesty and trust. +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good Grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE Let it be so. +Good night to everyone. [To Brabantio.] And, noble +signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +FIRST SENATOR +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. +She has deceived her father, and may thee. [He exits.] + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! +[The Duke, the Senators, Cassio, and Officers exit.] +Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee. +I prithee let thy wife attend on her, +And bring them after in the best advantage.-- +Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters, and direction +To spend with thee. We must obey the time. +[Othello and Desdemona exit.] + +RODERIGO Iago-- + +IAGO What sayst thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO What will I do, think'st thou? + +IAGO Why, go to bed and sleep. + +RODERIGO I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO It is silliness to live, when to live is torment, +and then have we a prescription to die when death is +our physician. + +IAGO O, villainous! I have looked upon the world for +four times seven years, and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found +man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say +I would drown myself for the love of a guinea hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO What should I do? I confess it is my shame +to be so fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO Virtue? A fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or +thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our +wills are gardeners. So that if we will plant nettles +or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, +supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it +with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or +manured with industry, why the power and corrigible +authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance +of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise +another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our +natures would conduct us to most prepost'rous +conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging +motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts-- +whereof I take this that you call love to be a sect, or +scion. + +RODERIGO It cannot be. + +IAGO It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission +of the will. Come, be a man! Drown thyself? Drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving +with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse. +Follow thou the wars; defeat thy favor with an +usurped beard. I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue +her love to the Moor--put money in thy purse-- +nor he his to her. It was a violent commencement in +her, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration +--put but money in thy purse. These Moors are +changeable in their wills. Fill thy purse with money. +The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts +shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. +She must change for youth. When she is sated +with his body she will find the error of her choice. +Therefore, put money in thy purse. If thou wilt +needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than +drowning. Make all the money thou canst. If sanctimony +and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian +and a supersubtle Venetian be not too hard for my +wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her. +Therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! +It is clean out of the way. Seek thou rather to be +hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned +and go without her. + +RODERIGO Wilt thou be fast to my hopes if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO Thou art sure of me. Go, make money. I have +told thee often, and I retell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor. My cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him. If thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse, go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this tomorrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO Where shall we meet i' th' morning? + +IAGO At my lodging. + +RODERIGO I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO Go to, farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO What say you? + +IAGO No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO I am changed. + +IAGO Go to, farewell. Put money enough in your +purse. + +RODERIGO I'll sell all my land. [He exits.] + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse. +For I mine own gained knowledge should profane +If I would time expend with such a snipe +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor, +And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets +'Has done my office. I know not if 't be true, +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well. +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man. Let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How? how?--Let's see. +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by th' nose +As asses are. +I have 't. It is engendered. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.] + + +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood. +I cannot 'twixt the heaven and the main +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land. +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements. +If it hath ruffianed so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +A segregation of the Turkish fleet. +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds, +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous +mane, +Seems to cast water on the burning Bear +And quench the guards of th' ever-fixed pole. +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO If that the Turkish fleet +Be not ensheltered and embayed, they are drowned. +It is impossible to bear it out. + +[Enter a third Gentleman.] + + +THIRD GENTLEMAN News, lads! Our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks +That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wrack and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How? Is this true? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa. Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on 't. 'Tis a worthy governor. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly +And prays the Moor be safe, for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO Pray heaven he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and th' aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Come, let's do so; +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +[Enter Cassio.] + + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defense against the elements, +For I have lost him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO Is he well shipped? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timbered, and his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. +[Voices cry within. "A sail, a sail, a sail!"] + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +CASSIO What noise? + +MESSENGER +The town is empty; on the brow o' th' sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry "A sail!" + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the Governor. +[A shot.] + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +They do discharge their shot of courtesy. +Our friends, at least. + +CASSIO I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I shall. [He exits.] + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately. He hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame, +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in th' essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +[Enter Second Gentleman.] + +How now? Who has put in? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the General. + +CASSIO +'Has had most favorable and happy speed! +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The guttered rocks and congregated sands +(Traitors ensteeped to clog the guiltless keel), +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A sennight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renewed fire to our extincted spirits, +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +[Enter Desdemona, Iago, Roderigo, and Emilia.] + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +[He kneels.] +Hail to thee, lady, and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand +Enwheel thee round. [He rises.] + +DESDEMONA I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of sea and skies +Parted our fellowship. +[Within "A sail, a sail!" A shot.] +But hark, a sail! + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +They give their greeting to the citadel. +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO See for the news. +[Second Gentleman exits.] +Good ancient, you are welcome. Welcome, mistress. +[He kisses Emilia.] +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners. 'Tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You would have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech! + +IAGO In faith, too much. +I find it still when I have list to sleep. +Marry, before your Ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO Come on, come on! You are pictures out of door, +bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens, +saints in your injuries, devils being offended, players +in your huswifery, and huswives in your beds. + +DESDEMONA Oh, fie upon thee, slanderer. + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk. +You rise to play, and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst write of me if thou shouldst praise +me? + +IAGO +O, gentle lady, do not put me to 't, +For I am nothing if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on, assay.--There's one gone to the harbor? + +IAGO Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA, [aside] +I am not merry, but I do beguile +The thing I am by seeming otherwise.-- +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO I am about it, but indeed my invention comes +from my pate as birdlime does from frieze: it +plucks out brains and all. But my muse labors, and +thus she is delivered: + If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, + The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO + If she be black, and thereto have a wit, + She'll find a white that shall her blackness hit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO + She never yet was foolish that was fair, + For even her folly helped her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA These are old fond paradoxes to make +fools laugh i' th' alehouse. What miserable praise +hast thou for her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO + There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, + But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the +worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on +a deserving woman indeed, one that in the authority +of her merit did justly put on the vouch of very +malice itself? + +IAGO + She that was ever fair and never proud, + Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, + Never lacked gold and yet went never gay, + Fled from her wish, and yet said "Now I may," + She that being angered, her revenge being nigh, + Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, + She that in wisdom never was so frail + To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail, + She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, + See suitors following and not look behind, + She was a wight, if ever such wight were-- + +DESDEMONA To do what? + +IAGO + To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA O, most lame and impotent conclusion! +--Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy +husband.--How say you, Cassio? Is he not a most +profane and liberal counselor? + +CASSIO He speaks home, madam. You may relish him +more in the soldier than in the scholar. +[Cassio takes Desdemona's hand.] + +IAGO, [aside] He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said, +whisper. With as little a web as this will I ensnare as +great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do. I will +gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true, 'tis +so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of +your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not +kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again +you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well +kissed; an excellent courtesy! 'Tis so, indeed. Yet +again your fingers to your lips? Would they were +clyster pipes for your sake! [Trumpets within.] +The Moor. I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO 'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO Lo, where he comes! + +[Enter Othello and Attendants.] + + +OTHELLO +O, my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have wakened death, +And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus high, and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content. +It stops me here; it is too much of joy. [They kiss.] +And this, and this, the greatest discords be +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO, [aside] O, you are well tuned now, +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO Come. Let us to the castle.-- +News, friends! Our wars are done. The Turks are +drowned. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle?-- +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus. +I have found great love amongst them. O, my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts.--I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers. +Bring thou the master to the citadel. +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect.--Come, Desdemona. +Once more, well met at Cyprus. +[All but Iago and Roderigo exit.] + +IAGO, [to a departing Attendant] Do thou meet me presently +at the harbor. [To Roderigo.] Come hither. If +thou be'st valiant--as they say base men being in +love have then a nobility in their natures more than +is native to them--list me. The Lieutenant tonight +watches on the court of guard. First, I must tell thee +this: Desdemona is directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO With him? Why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the +Moor but for bragging and telling her fantastical +lies. And will she love him still for prating? Let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed. And +what delight shall she have to look on the devil? +When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, +there should be, again to inflame it and to give +satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favor, sympathy +in years, manners, and beauties, all which the Moor +is defective in. Now, for want of these required +conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself +abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and +abhor the Moor. Very nature will instruct her in it +and compel her to some second choice. Now, sir, +this granted--as it is a most pregnant and unforced +position--who stands so eminent in the degree of +this fortune as Cassio does? A knave very voluble, no +further conscionable than in putting on the mere +form of civil and humane seeming for the better +compassing of his salt and most hidden loose +affection. Why, none, why, none! A slipper and +subtle knave, a finder-out of occasions, that has an +eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though +true advantage never present itself; a devilish knave! +Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all +those requisites in him that folly and green minds +look after. A pestilent complete knave, and the +woman hath found him already. + +RODERIGO I cannot believe that in her. She's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO Blessed fig's end! The wine she drinks is made of +grapes. If she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? Didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO Yes, that I did. But that was but courtesy. + +IAGO Lechery, by this hand! An index and obscure +prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts. +They met so near with their lips that their breaths +embraced together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo! +When these mutualities so marshal the way, hard +at hand comes the master and main exercise, th' +incorporate conclusion. Pish! But, sir, be you ruled +by me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you +tonight. For the command, I'll lay 't upon you. +Cassio knows you not. I'll not be far from you. Do +you find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by +speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from +what other course you please, which the time shall +more favorably minister. + +RODERIGO Well. + +IAGO Sir, he's rash and very sudden in choler, and +haply may strike at you. Provoke him that he may, +for even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny, whose qualification shall come into no +true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them, and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO I will do this, if you can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I +must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO Adieu. [He exits.] + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe 't. +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit. +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too, +Not out of absolute lust (though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin) +But partly led to diet my revenge +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leaped into my seat--the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards, +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am evened with him, wife for wife, +Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb +(For I fear Cassio with my nightcap too), +Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me +For making him egregiously an ass +And practicing upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused. +Knavery's plain face is never seen till used. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Othello's Herald with a proclamation.] + + +HERALD It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph: some to +dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what +sport and revels his addition leads him. For besides +these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed +All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till +the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of +Cyprus and our noble general, Othello! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.] + + +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight. +Let's teach ourselves that honorable stop +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do, +But notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to 't. + +OTHELLO Iago is most honest. +Michael, goodnight. Tomorrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. [To Desdemona.] Come, +my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.-- +Goodnight. +[Othello and Desdemona exit, with Attendants.] + +[Enter Iago.] + + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago. We must to the watch. + +IAGO Not this hour, lieutenant. 'Tis not yet ten o' th' +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love of +his Desdemona--who let us not therefore blame; +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her, and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO And, I'll warrant her, full of game. + +CASSIO Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate +creature. + +IAGO What an eye she has! Methinks it sounds a parley +to provocation. + +CASSIO An inviting eye, and yet methinks right +modest. + +IAGO And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, +I have a stoup of wine; and here without are a +brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a +measure to the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO O, they are our friends! But one cup; I'll drink +for you. + +CASSIO I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was +craftily qualified too, and behold what innovation it +makes here. I am unfortunate in the infirmity and +dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO What, man! 'Tis a night of revels. The gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO Where are they? + +IAGO Here at the door. I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO I'll do 't, but it dislikes me. [He exits.] + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him +With that which he hath drunk tonight already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offense +As my young mistress' dog. Now my sick fool +Roderigo, +Whom love hath turned almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath tonight caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch. +Three else of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits +That hold their honors in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I tonight flustered with flowing cups; +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of +drunkards +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle. But here they come. +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely both with wind and stream. + +[Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen, followed by +Servants with wine.] + + +CASSIO 'Fore God, they have given me a rouse +already. + +MONTANO Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I +am a soldier. + +IAGO Some wine, ho! +[Sings.] And let me the cannikin clink, clink, + And let me the cannikin clink. + A soldier's a man, + O, man's life's but a span, + Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO 'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO I learned it in England, where indeed they are +most potent in potting. Your Dane, your German, +and your swag-bellied Hollander--drink, ho!--are +nothing to your English. + +CASSIO Is your Englishman so exquisite in his +drinking? + +IAGO Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane +dead drunk. He sweats not to overthrow your Almain. +He gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next +pottle can be filled. + +CASSIO To the health of our general! + +MONTANO I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you +justice. + +IAGO O sweet England! +[Sings.] King Stephen was and-a worthy peer, + His breeches cost him but a crown; + He held them sixpence all too dear; + With that he called the tailor lown. + He was a wight of high renown, + And thou art but of low degree; + 'Tis pride that pulls the country down, + Then take thy auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO 'Fore God, this is a more exquisite song than +the other! + +IAGO Will you hear 't again? + +CASSIO No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place +that does those things. Well, God's above all; and +there be souls must be saved, and there be souls +must not be saved. + +IAGO It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO For mine own part--no offense to the General, +nor any man of quality--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The +Lieutenant is to be saved before the Ancient. Let's +have no more of this. Let's to our affairs. God +forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let's look to our +business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk. This +is my ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my +left. I am not drunk now. I can stand well enough, +and I speak well enough. + +GENTLEMEN Excellent well. + +CASSIO Why, very well then. You must not think then +that I am drunk. [He exits.] + +MONTANO +To th' platform, masters. Come, let's set the watch. +[Gentlemen exit.] + +IAGO, [to Montano] +You see this fellow that is gone before? +He's a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction; and do but see his vice. +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as th' other. 'Tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in, +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep. +He'll watch the horologe a double set +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO It were well +The General were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio +And looks not on his evils. Is not this true? + +[Enter Roderigo.] + + +IAGO, [aside to Roderigo] How now, Roderigo? +I pray you, after the Lieutenant, go. +[Roderigo exits.] + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an engraffed infirmity. +It were an honest action to say so +To the Moor. + +IAGO Not I, for this fair island. +I do love Cassio well and would do much +To cure him of this evil-- ["Help, help!" within.] +But hark! What noise? + +[Enter Cassio, pursuing Roderigo.] + + +CASSIO Zounds, you rogue, you rascal! + +MONTANO What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO A knave teach me my duty? I'll beat the knave +into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO Beat me? + +CASSIO Dost thou prate, rogue? [He hits Roderigo.] + +MONTANO Nay, good lieutenant. I pray you, sir, hold +your hand. + +CASSIO Let me go, sir, or I'll knock you o'er the +mazard. + +MONTANO Come, come, you're drunk. + +CASSIO Drunk? +[They fight.] + +IAGO, [aside to Roderigo] +Away, I say! Go out and cry a mutiny. +[Roderigo exits.] +Nay, good lieutenant.--God's will, gentlemen!-- +Help, ho! Lieutenant--sir--Montano--sir-- +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! +[A bell is rung.] +Who's that which rings the bell? Diablo, ho! +The town will rise. God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed forever. + +[Enter Othello and Attendants.] + + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO Zounds, I bleed +still. +I am hurt to th' death. He dies! [He attacks Cassio.] + +OTHELLO Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant--sir--Montano-- +gentlemen-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! The General speaks to you. Hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! From whence ariseth this? +Are we turned Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl! +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell. It frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that looks dead with grieving, +Speak. Who began this? On thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know. Friends all but now, even now, +In quarter and in terms like bride and groom +Divesting them for bed; and then but now, +As if some planet had unwitted men, +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds, +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil. +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted. And your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure. What's the matter +That you unlace your reputation thus, +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger. +Your officer Iago can inform you, +While I spare speech, which something now offends +me, +Of all that I do know; nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night, +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule, +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way. Zounds, if I stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offense, +Though he had twinned with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What, in a town of war +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety? +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began 't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO Touch me not so near. +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offense to Michael Cassio. +Yet I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general: +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help, +And Cassio following him with determined sword +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +[Pointing to Montano.] +Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause. +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamor--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose, and I returned the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords +And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together +At blow and thrust, even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report. +But men are men; the best sometimes forget. +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio.--Cassio, I love thee, +But nevermore be officer of mine. + +[Enter Desdemona attended.] + +Look if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What is the matter, dear? + +OTHELLO All's well now, +sweeting. +Come away to bed. [To Montano.] Sir, for your hurts, +Myself will be your surgeon.--Lead him off. +[Montano is led off.] +Iago, look with care about the town +And silence those whom this vile brawl +distracted.-- +Come, Desdemona. 'Tis the soldier's life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. +[All but Iago and Cassio exit.] + +IAGO What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO Marry, God forbid! + +CASSIO Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have +lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO As I am an honest man, I thought you had +received some bodily wound. There is more sense +in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and +most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost +without deserving. You have lost no reputation at +all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, +man, there are ways to recover the General again! +You are but now cast in his mood--a punishment +more in policy than in malice, even so as one would +beat his offenseless dog to affright an imperious +lion. Sue to him again and he's yours. + +CASSIO I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive +so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, +and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? And speak +parrot? And squabble? Swagger? Swear? And discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou +invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be +known by, let us call thee devil! + +IAGO What was he that you followed with your sword? +What had he done to you? + +CASSIO I know not. + +IAGO Is 't possible? + +CASSIO I remember a mass of things, but nothing +distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O +God, that men should put an enemy in their +mouths to steal away their brains! That we should +with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform +ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO Why, but you are now well enough. How came +you thus recovered? + +CASSIO It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give +place to the devil wrath. One unperfectness shows +me another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, +the place, and the condition of this country stands, +I could heartily wish this had not so befallen. But +since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell +me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as +Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be +now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently +a beast! O, strange! Every inordinate cup is unblessed, +and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used. Exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO I have well approved it, sir.--I drunk! + +IAGO You or any man living may be drunk at a time, +man. I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's +wife is now the general: I may say so in this +respect, for that he hath devoted and given up +himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement +of her parts and graces. Confess yourself +freely to her. Importune her help to put you in your +place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so +blessed a disposition she holds it a vice in her +goodness not to do more than she is requested. This +broken joint between you and her husband entreat +her to splinter, and, my fortunes against any lay +worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow +stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO You advise me well. + +IAGO I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest +kindness. + +CASSIO I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I +will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake +for me. I am desperate of my fortunes if they check +me here. + +IAGO You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant. I +must to the watch. + +CASSIO Good night, honest Iago. [Cassio exits.] + +IAGO +And what's he, then, that says I play the villain, +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking, and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +Th' inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit. She's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were 't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin-- +His soul is so enfettered to her love +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now. For whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune, +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear: +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +[Enter Roderigo.] + +How now, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO I do follow here in the chase, not like a +hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My +money is almost spent, I have been tonight exceedingly +well cudgeled, and I think the issue will be I +shall have so much experience for my pains, and so, +with no money at all and a little more wit, return +again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit and not by witchcraft, +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does 't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashiered Cassio. +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe. +Content thyself awhile. By th' Mass, 'tis morning! +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted. +Away, I say! Thou shalt know more hereafter. +Nay, get thee gone. [Roderigo exits.] +Two things are to be done. +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress. +I'll set her on. +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife. Ay, that's the way. +Dull not device by coldness and delay. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Cassio with Musicians.] + + +CASSIO +Masters, play here (I will content your pains) +Something that's brief; and bid "Good morrow, +general." [They play.] + +[Enter the Clown.] + + +CLOWN Why masters, have your instruments been in +Naples, that they speak i' th' nose thus? + +MUSICIAN How, sir, how? + +CLOWN Are these, I pray you, wind instruments? + +MUSICIAN Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +CLOWN O, thereby hangs a tail. + +MUSICIAN Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +CLOWN Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I +know. But, masters, here's money for you; and the +General so likes your music that he desires you, for +love's sake, to make no more noise with it. + +MUSICIAN Well, sir, we will not. + +CLOWN If you have any music that may not be heard, to +'t again. But, as they say, to hear music the General +does not greatly care. + +MUSICIAN We have none such, sir. + +CLOWN Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll +away. Go, vanish into air, away! + +[Musicians exit.] + +CASSIO Dost thou hear, mine honest friend? + +CLOWN No, I hear not your honest friend. I hear you. + +CASSIO Prithee, keep up thy quillets. [Giving money.] +There's a poor piece of gold for thee. If the gentlewoman +that attends the General's wife be stirring, +tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favor +of speech. Wilt thou do this? + +CLOWN She is stirring, sir. If she will stir hither, I shall +seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. [Clown exits.] + +[Enter Iago.] + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO You have not been abed, then? + +CASSIO Why, no. The day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife. My suit to her +Is that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO I'll send her to you presently, +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for 't. [Iago exits.] I never +knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +[Enter Emilia.] + + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good lieutenant. I am sorry +For your displeasure, but all will sure be well. +The General and his wife are talking of it, +And she speaks for you stoutly. The Moor replies +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you. But he protests he +loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO Yet I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemon alone. + +EMILIA Pray you come in. +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO I am much bound to you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.] + + +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot +And by him do my duties to the Senate. +[He gives Iago some papers.] +That done, I will be walking on the works. +Repair there to me. + +IAGO Well, my good lord, I'll do 't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see 't? + +GENTLEMEN +We wait upon your Lordship. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia.] + + +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husband +As if the cause were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow! Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never anything but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know 't. I thank you. You do love my lord; +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no farther off +Than in a politic distance. + +CASSIO Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here, +I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article. My lord shall never rest: +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle everything he does +With Cassio's suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio, +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +[Enter Othello and Iago.] + + +EMILIA Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA Well, do your discretion. [Cassio exits.] + +IAGO +Ha, I like not that. + +OTHELLO What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord; or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it +That he would steal away so guiltylike, +Seeing your coming. + +OTHELLO I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA How now, my lord? +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO Who is 't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face. +I prithee call him back. + +OTHELLO Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA Yes, faith, so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemon. Some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall 't be shortly? + +OTHELLO The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall 't be tonight at supper? + +OTHELLO No, not tonight. + +DESDEMONA Tomorrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn, +On Tuesday noon or night; on Wednesday morn. +I prithee name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days. In faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make example +Out of her best--is not almost a fault +T' incur a private check. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul +What you would ask me that I should deny, +Or stand so mamm'ring on? What? Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part--to have so much to do +To bring him in! By 'r Lady, I could do much-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more. Let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA Why, this is not a boon! +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight, +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO I will deny thee nothing! +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? No. Farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona. I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come.--Be as your fancies teach you. +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. +[Desdemona and Emilia exit.] + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul +But I do love thee! And when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO Did Michael Cassio, +When you wooed my lady, know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought, +No further harm. + +OTHELLO Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O yes, and went between us very oft. + +IAGO Indeed? + +OTHELLO +Indeed? Ay, indeed! Discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO Honest, my lord? + +OTHELLO Honest--ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO What dost thou think? + +IAGO Think, my lord? + +OTHELLO +"Think, my lord?" By heaven, thou echo'st me +As if there were some monster in thy thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean +something. +I heard thee say even now, thou lik'st not that, +When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou cried'st +"Indeed?" +And didst contract and purse thy brow together +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO I think thou dost; +And for I know thou 'rt full of love and honesty +And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them +breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more. +For such things in a false, disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, +They're close dilations working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO Nay, yet there's more in this. +I prithee speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of +thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO Good my lord, pardon me. +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and +false-- +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? Who has that breast so +pure +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law days and in sessions sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wronged and mak'st his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO I do beseech you, +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess-- +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom +From one that so imperfectly conceits +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls. +Who steals my purse steals trash. 'Tis something, +nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to +thousands. +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand, +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha? + +IAGO O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich, and rich enough; +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good God, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well. +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous. +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt, +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago, +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this: +Away at once with love or jealousy. + +IAGO +I am glad of this, for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit. Therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eyes thus, not jealous nor secure. +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused. Look to 't. +I know our country disposition well. +In Venice they do let God see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands. Their best +conscience +Is not to leave 't undone, but keep 't unknown. + +OTHELLO Dost thou say so? + +IAGO +She did deceive her father, marrying you, +And when she seemed to shake and fear your looks, +She loved them most. + +OTHELLO And so she did. + +IAGO Why, go to, then! +She that, so young, could give out such a seeming, +To seel her father's eyes up close as oak, +He thought 'twas witchcraft! But I am much to +blame. +I humbly do beseech you of your pardon +For too much loving you. + +OTHELLO I am bound to thee forever. + +IAGO +I see this hath a little dashed your spirits. + +OTHELLO +Not a jot, not a jot. + +IAGO I' faith, I fear it has. +I hope you will consider what is spoke +Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved. +I am to pray you not to strain my speech +To grosser issues nor to larger reach +Than to suspicion. + +OTHELLO I will not. + +IAGO Should you do so, my lord, +My speech should fall into such vile success +As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy +friend. +My lord, I see you're moved. + +OTHELLO No, not much moved. +I do not think but Desdemona's honest. + +IAGO +Long live she so! And long live you to think so! + +OTHELLO +And yet, how nature erring from itself-- + +IAGO +Ay, there's the point. As, to be bold with you, +Not to affect many proposed matches +Of her own clime, complexion, and degree, +Whereto we see in all things nature tends-- +Foh! One may smell in such a will most rank, +Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural-- +But pardon me--I do not in position +Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear +Her will, recoiling to her better judgment, +May fall to match you with her country forms +And happily repent. + +OTHELLO Farewell, farewell! +If more thou dost perceive, let me know more. +Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago. + +IAGO, [beginning to exit] My lord, I take my leave. + +OTHELLO +Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless +Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. + +IAGO, [returning] +My lord, I would I might entreat your Honor +To scan this thing no farther. Leave it to time. +Although 'tis fit that Cassio have his place-- +For sure he fills it up with great ability-- +Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile, +You shall by that perceive him and his means. +Note if your lady strain his entertainment +With any strong or vehement importunity. +Much will be seen in that. In the meantime, +Let me be thought too busy in my fears-- +As worthy cause I have to fear I am-- +And hold her free, I do beseech your Honor. + +OTHELLO Fear not my government. + +IAGO I once more take my leave. [He exits.] + +OTHELLO +This fellow's of exceeding honesty, +And knows all qualities with a learned spirit +Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard, +Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings, +I'd whistle her off and let her down the wind +To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black +And have not those soft parts of conversation +That chamberers have, or for I am declined +Into the vale of years--yet that's not much-- +She's gone, I am abused, and my relief +Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage, +That we can call these delicate creatures ours +And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad +And live upon the vapor of a dungeon +Than keep a corner in the thing I love +For others' uses. Yet 'tis the plague of great ones; +Prerogatived are they less than the base. +'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death. +Even then this forked plague is fated to us +When we do quicken. Look where she comes. + +[Enter Desdemona and Emilia.] + +If she be false, heaven mocks itself! +I'll not believe 't. + +DESDEMONA How now, my dear Othello? +Your dinner, and the generous islanders +By you invited, do attend your presence. + +OTHELLO I am to blame. + +DESDEMONA +Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well? + +OTHELLO +I have a pain upon my forehead, here. + +DESDEMONA +Faith, that's with watching. 'Twill away again. +Let me but bind it hard; within this hour +It will be well. + +OTHELLO Your napkin is too little. +Let it alone. [The handkerchief falls, unnoticed.] +Come, I'll go in with you. + +DESDEMONA +I am very sorry that you are not well. +[Othello and Desdemona exit.] + +EMILIA, [picking up the handkerchief] +I am glad I have found this napkin. +This was her first remembrance from the Moor. +My wayward husband hath a hundred times +Wooed me to steal it. But she so loves the token +(For he conjured her she should ever keep it) +That she reserves it evermore about her +To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out +And give 't Iago. What he will do with it +Heaven knows, not I. +I nothing but to please his fantasy. + +[Enter Iago.] + + +IAGO How now? What do you here alone? + +EMILIA +Do not you chide. I have a thing for you. + +IAGO +You have a thing for me? It is a common thing-- + +EMILIA Ha? + +IAGO To have a foolish wife. + +EMILIA +O, is that all? What will you give me now +For that same handkerchief? + +IAGO What handkerchief? + +EMILIA What handkerchief? +Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona, +That which so often you did bid me steal. + +IAGO Hast stol'n it from her? + +EMILIA +No, faith, she let it drop by negligence, +And to th' advantage I, being here, took 't up. +Look, here 'tis. + +IAGO A good wench! Give it me. + +EMILIA +What will you do with 't, that you have been so +earnest +To have me filch it? + +IAGO, [snatching it] Why, what is that to you? + +EMILIA +If it be not for some purpose of import, +Give 't me again. Poor lady, she'll run mad +When she shall lack it. + +IAGO Be not acknown on 't. +I have use for it. Go, leave me. [Emilia exits.] +I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin +And let him find it. Trifles light as air +Are to the jealous confirmations strong +As proofs of holy writ. This may do something. +The Moor already changes with my poison; +Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, +Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, +But with a little act upon the blood +Burn like the mines of sulfur. + +[Enter Othello.] + +I did say so. +Look where he comes. Not poppy nor mandragora +Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world +Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep +Which thou owedst yesterday. + +OTHELLO Ha, ha, false to me? + +IAGO +Why, how now, general? No more of that! + +OTHELLO +Avaunt! Begone! Thou hast set me on the rack. +I swear 'tis better to be much abused +Than but to know 't a little. + +IAGO How now, my lord? + +OTHELLO +What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust? +I saw 't not, thought it not; it harmed not me. +I slept the next night well, fed well, was free and +merry. +I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips. +He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n, +Let him not know 't, and he's not robbed at all. + +IAGO I am sorry to hear this. + +OTHELLO +I had been happy if the general camp, +Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body, +So I had nothing known. O, now, forever +Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! +Farewell the plumed troops and the big wars +That makes ambition virtue! O, farewell! +Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, +The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, +The royal banner, and all quality, +Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! +And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats +Th' immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit, +Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! + +IAGO Is 't possible, my lord? + +OTHELLO +Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore! +Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof, +Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, +Thou hadst been better have been born a dog +Than answer my waked wrath. + +IAGO Is 't come to this? + +OTHELLO +Make me to see 't, or at the least so prove it +That the probation bear no hinge nor loop +To hang a doubt on, or woe upon thy life! + +IAGO My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +If thou dost slander her and torture me, +Never pray more. Abandon all remorse; +On horror's head horrors accumulate; +Do deeds to make heaven weep, all Earth amazed; +For nothing canst thou to damnation add +Greater than that. + +IAGO O grace! O heaven forgive me! +Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense? +God b' wi' you. Take mine office.--O wretched fool, +That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!-- +O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world: +To be direct and honest is not safe.-- +I thank you for this profit, and from hence +I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offense. + +OTHELLO Nay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest. + +IAGO +I should be wise; for honesty's a fool +And loses that it works for. + +OTHELLO By the world, +I think my wife be honest and think she is not. +I think that thou art just and think thou art not. +I'll have some proof! Her name, that was as fresh +As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black +As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives, +Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams, +I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied! + +IAGO +I see you are eaten up with passion. +I do repent me that I put it to you. +You would be satisfied? + +OTHELLO Would? Nay, and I will. + +IAGO +And may; but how? How satisfied, my lord? +Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on, +Behold her topped? + +OTHELLO Death and damnation! O! + +IAGO +It were a tedious difficulty, I think, +To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then +If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster +More than their own! What then? How then? +What shall I say? Where's satisfaction? +It is impossible you should see this, +Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys, +As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross +As ignorance made drunk. But yet I say, +If imputation and strong circumstances +Which lead directly to the door of truth +Will give you satisfaction, you might have 't. + +OTHELLO +Give me a living reason she's disloyal. + +IAGO I do not like the office, +But sith I am entered in this cause so far, +Pricked to 't by foolish honesty and love, +I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately, +And being troubled with a raging tooth +I could not sleep. There are a kind of men +So loose of soul that in their sleeps will mutter +Their affairs. One of this kind is Cassio. +In sleep I heard him say "Sweet Desdemona, +Let us be wary, let us hide our loves." +And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, +Cry "O sweet creature!" then kiss me hard, +As if he plucked up kisses by the roots +That grew upon my lips; then laid his leg +O'er my thigh, and sighed, and kissed, and then +Cried "Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!" + +OTHELLO +O monstrous! Monstrous! + +IAGO Nay, this was but his +dream. + +OTHELLO +But this denoted a foregone conclusion. +'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream. + +IAGO +And this may help to thicken other proofs +That do demonstrate thinly. + +OTHELLO I'll tear her all to pieces. + +IAGO +Nay, but be wise. Yet we see nothing done. +She may be honest yet. Tell me but this: +Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief +Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand? + +OTHELLO +I gave her such a one. 'Twas my first gift. + +IAGO +I know not that; but such a handkerchief-- +I am sure it was your wife's--did I today +See Cassio wipe his beard with. + +OTHELLO If it be that-- + +IAGO +If it be that, or any that was hers, +It speaks against her with the other proofs. + +OTHELLO +O, that the slave had forty thousand lives! +One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. +Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago, +All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven. +'Tis gone. +Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell! +Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne +To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, +For 'tis of aspics' tongues! + +IAGO Yet be content. + +OTHELLO O, blood, blood, blood! + +IAGO +Patience, I say. Your mind perhaps may change. + +OTHELLO +Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea, +Whose icy current and compulsive course +Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on +To the Propontic and the Hellespont, +Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace +Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, +Till that a capable and wide revenge +Swallow them up. [He kneels.] Now by yond marble +heaven, +In the due reverence of a sacred vow, +I here engage my words. + +IAGO Do not rise yet. [Iago kneels.] +Witness, you ever-burning lights above, +You elements that clip us round about, +Witness that here Iago doth give up +The execution of his wit, hands, heart +To wronged Othello's service! Let him command, +And to obey shall be in me remorse, +What bloody business ever. [They rise.] + +OTHELLO I greet thy love +Not with vain thanks but with acceptance +bounteous, +And will upon the instant put thee to 't. +Within these three days let me hear thee say +That Cassio's not alive. + +IAGO My friend is dead. +'Tis done at your request. But let her live. + +OTHELLO Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her, damn +her! +Come, go with me apart. I will withdraw +To furnish me with some swift means of death +For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant. + +IAGO I am your own forever. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.] + + +DESDEMONA Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant +Cassio lies? + +CLOWN I dare not say he lies anywhere. + +DESDEMONA Why, man? + +CLOWN He's a soldier, and for me to say a soldier lies, +'tis stabbing. + +DESDEMONA Go to! Where lodges he? + +CLOWN To tell you where he lodges is to tell you +where I lie. + +DESDEMONA Can anything be made of this? + +CLOWN I know not where he lodges; and for me to +devise a lodging and say he lies here, or he lies +there, were to lie in mine own throat. + +DESDEMONA Can you inquire him out, and be edified +by report? + +CLOWN I will catechize the world for him--that is, +make questions, and by them answer. + +DESDEMONA Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I +have moved my lord on his behalf and hope all will +be well. + +CLOWN To do this is within the compass of man's wit, +and therefore I will attempt the doing it. +[Clown exits.] + +DESDEMONA +Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? + +EMILIA I know not, madam. + +DESDEMONA +Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse +Full of crusadoes. And but my noble Moor +Is true of mind and made of no such baseness +As jealous creatures are, it were enough +To put him to ill thinking. + +EMILIA Is he not jealous? + +DESDEMONA +Who, he? I think the sun where he was born +Drew all such humors from him. + +EMILIA Look where he +comes. + +[Enter Othello.] + + +DESDEMONA +I will not leave him now till Cassio +Be called to him.--How is 't with you, my lord? + +OTHELLO +Well, my good lady. [Aside.] O, hardness to +dissemble!-- +How do you, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA Well, my good lord. + +OTHELLO +Give me your hand. [He takes her hand.] This hand +is moist, my lady. + +DESDEMONA +It yet has felt no age nor known no sorrow. + +OTHELLO +This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart. +Hot, hot, and moist. This hand of yours requires +A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer, +Much castigation, exercise devout; +For here's a young and sweating devil here +That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand, +A frank one. + +DESDEMONA You may indeed say so, +For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. + +OTHELLO +A liberal hand! The hearts of old gave hands, +But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts. + +DESDEMONA +I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise. + +OTHELLO What promise, chuck? + +DESDEMONA +I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. + +OTHELLO +I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me. +Lend me thy handkerchief. + +DESDEMONA Here, my lord. + +OTHELLO +That which I gave you. + +DESDEMONA I have it not about me. + +OTHELLO Not? + +DESDEMONA No, faith, my lord. + +OTHELLO That's a fault. That handkerchief +Did an Egyptian to my mother give. +She was a charmer, and could almost read +The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept +it, +'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father +Entirely to her love. But if she lost it, +Or made a gift of it, my father's eye +Should hold her loathed, and his spirits should hunt +After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me, +And bid me, when my fate would have me wived, +To give it her. I did so; and take heed on 't, +Make it a darling like your precious eye. +To lose 't or give 't away were such perdition +As nothing else could match. + +DESDEMONA Is 't possible? + +OTHELLO +'Tis true. There's magic in the web of it. +A sybil that had numbered in the world +The sun to course two hundred compasses, +In her prophetic fury sewed the work. +The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk, +And it was dyed in mummy, which the skillful +Conserved of maidens' hearts. + +DESDEMONA I' faith, is 't true? + +OTHELLO +Most veritable. Therefore, look to 't well. + +DESDEMONA +Then would to God that I had never seen 't! + +OTHELLO Ha? Wherefore? + +DESDEMONA +Why do you speak so startingly and rash? + +OTHELLO +Is 't lost? Is 't gone? Speak, is 't out o' th' way? + +DESDEMONA Heaven bless us! + +OTHELLO Say you? + +DESDEMONA +It is not lost, but what an if it were? + +OTHELLO How? + +DESDEMONA I say it is not lost. + +OTHELLO Fetch 't. Let me see 't! + +DESDEMONA +Why, so I can. But I will not now. +This is a trick to put me from my suit. +Pray you, let Cassio be received again. + +OTHELLO +Fetch me the handkerchief! [Aside.] My mind +misgives. + +DESDEMONA Come, come. +You'll never meet a more sufficient man. + +OTHELLO +The handkerchief! + +DESDEMONA I pray, talk me of Cassio. + +OTHELLOThe handkerchief! + +DESDEMONA A man that all his time +Hath founded his good fortunes on your love; +Shared dangers with you-- + +OTHELLO +The handkerchief! + +DESDEMONA I' faith, you are to blame. + +OTHELLO Zounds! [Othello exits.] + +EMILIA Is not this man jealous? + +DESDEMONA I ne'er saw this before. +Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief! +I am most unhappy in the loss of it. + +EMILIA +'Tis not a year or two shows us a man. +They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; +They eat us hungerly, and when they are full +They belch us. + +[Enter Iago and Cassio.] + +Look you--Cassio and my husband. + +IAGO, [to Cassio] +There is no other way; 'tis she must do 't, +And, lo, the happiness! Go and importune her. + +DESDEMONA +How now, good Cassio, what's the news with you? + +CASSIO +Madam, my former suit. I do beseech you +That by your virtuous means I may again +Exist, and be a member of his love +Whom I with all the office of my heart +Entirely honor. I would not be delayed. +If my offense be of such mortal kind +That nor my service past nor present sorrows +Nor purposed merit in futurity +Can ransom me into his love again, +But to know so must be my benefit. +So shall I clothe me in a forced content, +And shut myself up in some other course +To fortune's alms. + +DESDEMONA Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio, +My advocation is not now in tune. +My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him +Were he in favor as in humor altered. +So help me every spirit sanctified +As I have spoken for you all my best, +And stood within the blank of his displeasure +For my free speech! You must awhile be patient. +What I can do I will; and more I will +Than for myself I dare. Let that suffice you. + +IAGO +Is my lord angry? + +EMILIA He went hence but now, +And certainly in strange unquietness. + +IAGO +Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon +When it hath blown his ranks into the air +And, like the devil, from his very arm +Puffed his own brother--and is he angry? +Something of moment then. I will go meet him. +There's matter in 't indeed if he be angry. + +DESDEMONA +I prithee do so. [He exits.] +Something, sure, of state, +Either from Venice, or some unhatched practice +Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him, +Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases +Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, +Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so. +For let our finger ache, and it endues +Our other healthful members even to a sense +Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods, +Nor of them look for such observancy +As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia, +I was--unhandsome warrior as I am!-- +Arraigning his unkindness with my soul. +But now I find I had suborned the witness, +And he's indicted falsely. + +EMILIA Pray heaven it be +State matters, as you think, and no conception +Nor no jealous toy concerning you. + +DESDEMONA +Alas the day, I never gave him cause! + +EMILIA +But jealous souls will not be answered so. +They are not ever jealous for the cause, +But jealous for they're jealous. It is a monster +Begot upon itself, born on itself. + +DESDEMONA +Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind! + +EMILIA Lady, amen. + +DESDEMONA +I will go seek him.--Cassio, walk hereabout. +If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit +And seek to effect it to my uttermost. + +CASSIO I humbly thank your Ladyship. +[Desdemona and Emilia exit.] + +[Enter Bianca.] + + +BIANCA +'Save you, friend Cassio! + +CASSIO What make you from +home? +How is 't with you, my most fair Bianca? +I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house. + +BIANCA +And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. +What, keep a week away? Seven days and nights, +Eightscore eight hours, and lovers' absent hours +More tedious than the dial eightscore times? +O weary reck'ning! + +CASSIO Pardon me, Bianca. +I have this while with leaden thoughts been pressed, +But I shall in a more continuate time +Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, +[Giving her Desdemona's handkerchief.] +Take me this work out. + +BIANCA O, Cassio, whence came this? +This is some token from a newer friend. +To the felt absence now I feel a cause. +Is 't come to this? Well, well. + +CASSIO Go to, woman! +Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, +From whence you have them. You are jealous now +That this is from some mistress, some +remembrance. +No, by my faith, Bianca. + +BIANCA Why, whose is it? + +CASSIO +I know not neither. I found it in my chamber. +I like the work well. Ere it be demanded, +As like enough it will, I would have it copied. +Take it, and do 't, and leave me for this time. + +BIANCA Leave you? Wherefore? + +CASSIO +I do attend here on the General, +And think it no addition, nor my wish, +To have him see me womaned. + +BIANCA Why, I pray you? + +CASSIO Not that I love you not. + +BIANCA But that you do not love me! +I pray you bring me on the way a little, +And say if I shall see you soon at night. + +CASSIO +'Tis but a little way that I can bring you, +For I attend here. But I'll see you soon. + +BIANCA +'Tis very good. I must be circumstanced. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Othello and Iago.] + + +IAGO +Will you think so? + +OTHELLO Think so, Iago? + +IAGO What, +To kiss in private? + +OTHELLO An unauthorized kiss! + +IAGO +Or to be naked with her friend in bed +An hour or more, not meaning any harm? + +OTHELLO +Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm? +It is hypocrisy against the devil! +They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, +The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt +heaven. + +IAGO +If they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip. +But if I give my wife a handkerchief-- + +OTHELLO What then? + +IAGO +Why then, 'tis hers, my lord, and being hers, +She may, I think, bestow 't on any man. + +OTHELLO +She is protectress of her honor, too. +May she give that? + +IAGO +Her honor is an essence that's not seen; +They have it very oft that have it not. +But for the handkerchief-- + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it. +Thou saidst--O, it comes o'er my memory +As doth the raven o'er the infectious house, +Boding to all--he had my handkerchief. + +IAGO +Ay, what of that? + +OTHELLO That's not so good now. + +IAGO What +If I had said I had seen him do you wrong? +Or heard him say (as knaves be such abroad, +Who having, by their own importunate suit +Or voluntary dotage of some mistress, +Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose +But they must blab)-- + +OTHELLO Hath he said anything? + +IAGO +He hath, my lord, but be you well assured, +No more than he'll unswear. + +OTHELLO What hath he said? + +IAGO +Faith, that he did--I know not what he did. + +OTHELLO What? What? + +IAGO +Lie-- + +OTHELLO With her? + +IAGO With her--on her--what you will. + +OTHELLO Lie with her? Lie on her? We say "lie on her" +when they belie her. Lie with her--Zounds, that's +fulsome! Handkerchief--confessions--handkerchief. +To confess and be hanged for his labor. +First to be hanged and then to confess--I tremble +at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing +passion without some instruction. It is not +words that shakes me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and +lips--is 't possible? Confess--handkerchief--O, +devil! [He falls in a trance.] + +IAGO Work on, +My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are +caught, +And many worthy and chaste dames even thus, +All guiltless, meet reproach.--What ho! My lord! +My lord, I say. Othello! + +[Enter Cassio.] + +How now, Cassio? + +CASSIO What's the matter? + +IAGO +My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy. +This is his second fit. He had one yesterday. + +CASSIO +Rub him about the temples. + +IAGO No, forbear. +The lethargy must have his quiet course. +If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by +Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs. +Do you withdraw yourself a little while. +He will recover straight. When he is gone, +I would on great occasion speak with you. +[Cassio exits.] +How is it, general? Have you not hurt your head? + +OTHELLO +Dost thou mock me? + +IAGO I mock you not, by heaven! +Would you would bear your fortune like a man! + +OTHELLO +A horned man's a monster and a beast. + +IAGO +There's many a beast, then, in a populous city, +And many a civil monster. + +OTHELLO +Did he confess it? + +IAGO Good sir, be a man! +Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked +May draw with you. There's millions now alive +That nightly lie in those unproper beds +Which they dare swear peculiar. Your case is better. +O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock, +To lip a wanton in a secure couch +And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know, +And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be. + +OTHELLO O, thou art wise, 'tis certain. + +IAGO Stand you awhile apart. +Confine yourself but in a patient list. +Whilst you were here, o'erwhelmed with your grief-- +A passion most unsuiting such a man-- +Cassio came hither. I shifted him away +And laid good 'scuses upon your ecstasy, +Bade him anon return and here speak with me, +The which he promised. Do but encave yourself, +And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns +That dwell in every region of his face. +For I will make him tell the tale anew-- +Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when +He hath and is again to cope your wife. +I say but mark his gesture. Marry, patience, +Or I shall say you're all in all in spleen, +And nothing of a man. + +OTHELLO Dost thou hear, Iago, +I will be found most cunning in my patience, +But (dost thou hear?) most bloody. + +IAGO That's not amiss. +But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw? +[Othello withdraws.] +Now will I question Cassio of Bianca, +A huswife that by selling her desires +Buys herself bread and clothes. It is a creature +That dotes on Cassio--as 'tis the strumpet's plague +To beguile many and be beguiled by one. +He, when he hears of her, cannot restrain +From the excess of laughter. Here he comes. + +[Enter Cassio.] + +As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad, +And his unbookish jealousy must construe +Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behaviors +Quite in the wrong.--How do you, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +The worser that you give me the addition +Whose want even kills me. + +IAGO +Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on 't. +Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power, +How quickly should you speed! + +CASSIO, [laughing] Alas, poor caitiff! + +OTHELLO Look how he laughs already! + +IAGO I never knew woman love man so. + +CASSIO +Alas, poor rogue, I think i' faith she loves me. + +OTHELLO +Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out. + +IAGO +Do you hear, Cassio? + +OTHELLO Now he importunes him +To tell it o'er. Go to, well said, well said. + +IAGO +She gives it out that you shall marry her. +Do you intend it? + +CASSIO Ha, ha, ha! + +OTHELLO +Do you triumph, Roman? Do you triumph? + +CASSIO I marry her? What, a customer? Prithee bear +some charity to my wit! Do not think it so unwholesome. +Ha, ha, ha! + +OTHELLO So, so, so, so. They laugh that wins. + +IAGO +Faith, the cry goes that you marry her. + +CASSIO Prithee say true! + +IAGO I am a very villain else. + +OTHELLO Have you scored me? Well. + +CASSIO This is the monkey's own giving out. She is +persuaded I will marry her out of her own love and +flattery, not out of my promise. + +OTHELLO +Iago beckons me. Now he begins the story. + +CASSIO She was here even now. She haunts me in +every place. I was the other day talking on the +sea-bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes +the bauble. By this hand, she falls thus about my +neck! + +OTHELLO Crying, "O dear Cassio," as it were; his +gesture imports it. + +CASSIO So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me, so +shakes and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha! + +OTHELLO Now he tells how she plucked him to my +chamber.--O, I see that nose of yours, but not that +dog I shall throw it to. + +CASSIO Well, I must leave her company. + +IAGO Before me, look where she comes. + +[Enter Bianca.] + + +CASSIO 'Tis such another fitchew--marry, a perfumed +one!--What do you mean by this haunting +of me? + +BIANCA Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did +you mean by that same handkerchief you gave me +even now? I was a fine fool to take it! I must take +out the work? A likely piece of work, that you +should find it in your chamber and know not who +left it there! This is some minx's token, and I must +take out the work! There, give it your hobbyhorse. +Wheresoever you had it, I'll take out no work on 't. + +CASSIO +How now, my sweet Bianca? How now? How now? + +OTHELLO +By heaven, that should be my handkerchief! + +BIANCA If you'll come to supper tonight you may. If +you will not, come when you are next prepared +for. [She exits.] + +IAGO After her, after her! + +CASSIO Faith, I must. She'll rail in the streets else. + +IAGO Will you sup there? + +CASSIO Faith, I intend so. + +IAGO Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very +fain speak with you. + +CASSIO Prithee come. Will you? + +IAGO Go to; say no more. [Cassio exits.] + +OTHELLO, [coming forward] How shall I murder him, +Iago? + +IAGO Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice? + +OTHELLO O Iago! + +IAGO And did you see the handkerchief? + +OTHELLO Was that mine? + +IAGO Yours, by this hand! And to see how he prizes +the foolish woman your wife! She gave it him, and +he hath giv'n it his whore. + +OTHELLO I would have him nine years a-killing! A fine +woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman! + +IAGO Nay, you must forget that. + +OTHELLO Ay, let her rot and perish and be damned +tonight, for she shall not live. No, my heart is turned +to stone. I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the +world hath not a sweeter creature! She might lie by +an emperor's side and command him tasks. + +IAGO Nay, that's not your way. + +OTHELLO Hang her, I do but say what she is! So +delicate with her needle, an admirable musician-- +O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! +Of so high and plenteous wit and invention! + +IAGO She's the worse for all this. + +OTHELLO O, a thousand, a thousand times!--And then +of so gentle a condition! + +IAGO Ay, too gentle. + +OTHELLO Nay, that's certain. But yet the pity of it, +Iago! O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago! + +IAGO If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her +patent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes +near nobody. + +OTHELLO I will chop her into messes! Cuckold me? + +IAGO O, 'tis foul in her. + +OTHELLO With mine officer! + +IAGO That's fouler. + +OTHELLO Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I'll not +expostulate with her lest her body and beauty +unprovide my mind again. This night, Iago. + +IAGO Do it not with poison. Strangle her in her bed, +even the bed she hath contaminated. + +OTHELLO Good, good. The justice of it pleases. Very +good. + +IAGO And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You +shall hear more by midnight. + +OTHELLO +Excellent good. [A trumpet sounds.] +What trumpet is that same? + +IAGO I warrant something from Venice. + +[Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.] + +'Tis Lodovico. This comes from the Duke. +See, your wife's with him. + +LODOVICO God save you, worthy general. + +OTHELLO With all my heart, sir. + +LODOVICO +The Duke and the Senators of Venice greet you. +[He hands Othello a paper.] + +OTHELLO +I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. + +DESDEMONA +And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico? + +IAGO +I am very glad to see you, signior. +Welcome to Cyprus. + +LODOVICO +I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio? + +IAGO Lives, sir. + +DESDEMONA +Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord +An unkind breach, but you shall make all well. + +OTHELLO Are you sure of that? + +DESDEMONA My lord? + +OTHELLO, [reading] "This fail you not to do, as you +will"-- + +LODOVICO +He did not call; he's busy in the paper. +Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio? + +DESDEMONA +A most unhappy one. I would do much +T' atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. + +OTHELLO Fire and brimstone! + +DESDEMONA My lord? + +OTHELLO Are you wise? + +DESDEMONA +What, is he angry? + +LODOVICO May be the letter moved him. +For, as I think, they do command him home, +Deputing Cassio in his government. + +DESDEMONA By my troth, I am glad on 't. + +OTHELLO Indeed? + +DESDEMONA My lord? + +OTHELLO I am glad to see you mad. + +DESDEMONA Why, sweet Othello! + +OTHELLO, [striking her] Devil! + +DESDEMONA I have not deserved this. + +LODOVICO +My lord, this would not be believed in Venice, +Though I should swear I saw 't. 'Tis very much. +Make her amends. She weeps. + +OTHELLO O, devil, devil! +If that the Earth could teem with woman's tears, +Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. +Out of my sight! + +DESDEMONA I will not stay to offend you. +[She begins to leave.] + +LODOVICO Truly an obedient lady. +I do beseech your Lordship call her back. + +OTHELLO Mistress. + +DESDEMONA, [turning back] My lord? + +OTHELLO What would you with her, sir? + +LODOVICO Who, I, my lord? + +OTHELLO +Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn. +Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, +And turn again. And she can weep, sir, weep. +And she's obedient, as you say, obedient. +Very obedient.--Proceed you in your tears.-- +Concerning this, sir--O, well-painted passion!-- +I am commanded home.--Get you away. +I'll send for you anon.--Sir, I obey the mandate +And will return to Venice.--Hence, avaunt! +[Desdemona exits.] +Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight +I do entreat that we may sup together. +You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and +monkeys! [He exits.] + +LODOVICO +Is this the noble Moor, whom our full senate +Call all in all sufficient? Is this the nature +Whom passion could not shake, whose solid virtue +The shot of accident nor dart of chance +Could neither graze nor pierce? + +IAGO He is much +changed. + +LODOVICO +Are his wits safe? Is he not light of brain? + +IAGO +He's that he is. I may not breathe my censure +What he might be. If what he might he is not, +I would to heaven he were. + +LODOVICO What? Strike his wife? + +IAGO +'Faith, that was not so well. Yet would I knew +That stroke would prove the worst. + +LODOVICO Is it his use? +Or did the letters work upon his blood +And new-create this fault? + +IAGO Alas, alas! +It is not honesty in me to speak +What I have seen and known. You shall observe +him, +And his own courses will denote him so +That I may save my speech. Do but go after +And mark how he continues. + +LODOVICO +I am sorry that I am deceived in him. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Othello and Emilia.] + + +OTHELLO You have seen nothing then? + +EMILIA +Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect. + +OTHELLO +Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together. + +EMILIA +But then I saw no harm, and then I heard +Each syllable that breath made up between them. + +OTHELLO +What, did they never whisper? + +EMILIA Never, my lord. + +OTHELLO Nor send you out o' th' way? + +EMILIA Never. + +OTHELLO +To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing? + +EMILIA Never, my lord. + +OTHELLO That's strange. + +EMILIA +I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, +Lay down my soul at stake. If you think other, +Remove your thought. It doth abuse your bosom. +If any wretch have put this in your head, +Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse, +For if she be not honest, chaste, and true, +There's no man happy. The purest of their wives +Is foul as slander. + +OTHELLO Bid her come hither. Go. +[Emilia exits.] +She says enough. Yet she's a simple bawd +That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, +A closet lock and key of villainous secrets. +And yet she'll kneel and pray. I have seen her do 't. + +[Enter Desdemona and Emilia.] + + +DESDEMONA My lord, what is your will? + +OTHELLO +Pray you, chuck, come hither. + +DESDEMONA What is your +pleasure? + +OTHELLO +Let me see your eyes. Look in my face. + +DESDEMONA What horrible fancy's this? + +OTHELLO, [to Emilia] Some of your function, +mistress. +Leave procreants alone, and shut the door. +Cough, or cry "hem," if anybody come. +Your mystery, your mystery! Nay, dispatch. +[Emilia exits.] + +DESDEMONA, [kneeling] +Upon my knees, what doth your speech import? +I understand a fury in your words, +But not the words. + +OTHELLO Why? What art thou? + +DESDEMONA +Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife. + +OTHELLO Come, swear it. Damn thyself, +Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves +Should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double +damned. +Swear thou art honest. + +DESDEMONA Heaven doth truly know it. + +OTHELLO +Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell. + +DESDEMONA, [standing] +To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false? + +OTHELLO +Ah, Desdemon, away, away, away! + +DESDEMONA +Alas the heavy day, why do you weep? +Am I the motive of these tears, my lord? +If haply you my father do suspect +An instrument of this your calling back, +Lay not your blame on me. If you have lost him, +I have lost him too. + +OTHELLO Had it pleased heaven +To try me with affliction, had they rained +All kind of sores and shames on my bare head, +Steeped me in poverty to the very lips, +Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes, +I should have found in some place of my soul +A drop of patience. But alas, to make me +A fixed figure for the time of scorn +To point his slow unmoving finger at-- +Yet could I bear that too, well, very well. +But there where I have garnered up my heart, +Where either I must live or bear no life, +The fountain from the which my current runs +Or else dries up--to be discarded thence, +Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads +To knot and gender in--turn thy complexion there, +Patience, thou young and rose-lipped cherubin, +Ay, there look grim as hell. + +DESDEMONA +I hope my noble lord esteems me honest. + +OTHELLO +O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles, +That quicken even with blowing! O thou weed, +Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet +That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst +ne'er been born! + +DESDEMONA +Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? + +OTHELLO +Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, +Made to write "whore" upon? What committed? +Committed? O thou public commoner, +I should make very forges of my cheeks +That would to cinders burn up modesty, +Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed? +Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks; +The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets +Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth +And will not hear 't. What committed? +Impudent strumpet! + +DESDEMONA By heaven, you do me wrong! + +OTHELLO Are not you a strumpet? + +DESDEMONA No, as I am a Christian! +If to preserve this vessel for my lord +From any other foul unlawful touch +Be not to be a strumpet, I am none. + +OTHELLO What, not a whore? + +DESDEMONA No, as I shall be saved. + +OTHELLO Is 't possible? + +DESDEMONA +O, heaven forgive us! + +OTHELLO I cry you mercy, then. +I took you for that cunning whore of Venice +That married with Othello.--You, mistress, + +[Enter Emilia.] + +That have the office opposite to Saint Peter +And keeps the gate of hell--you, you, ay, you! +We have done our course. There's money for your +pains. [He gives her money.] +I pray you turn the key and keep our counsel. +[He exits.] + +EMILIA +Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? +How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady? + +DESDEMONA Faith, half asleep. + +EMILIA +Good madam, what's the matter with my lord? + +DESDEMONA With who? + +EMILIA Why, with my lord, madam. + +DESDEMONA +Who is thy lord? + +EMILIA He that is yours, sweet lady. + +DESDEMONA +I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia. +I cannot weep, nor answers have I none +But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight +Lay on my bed my wedding sheets. Remember. +And call thy husband hither. + +EMILIA Here's a change indeed. [She exits.] + +DESDEMONA +'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet. +How have I been behaved that he might stick +The small'st opinion on my least misuse? + +[Enter Iago and Emilia.] + + +IAGO +What is your pleasure, madam? How is 't with you? + +DESDEMONA +I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes +Do it with gentle means and easy tasks. +He might have chid me so, for, in good faith, +I am a child to chiding. + +IAGO What is the matter, lady? + +EMILIA +Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her, +Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her +As true hearts cannot bear. + +DESDEMONA +Am I that name, Iago? + +IAGO What name, fair +lady? + +DESDEMONA +Such as she said my lord did say I was. + +EMILIA +He called her "whore." A beggar in his drink +Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. + +IAGO Why did he so? + +DESDEMONA +I do not know. I am sure I am none such. + +IAGO +Do not weep, do not weep! Alas the day! + +EMILIA +Hath she forsook so many noble matches, +Her father and her country and her friends, +To be called "whore"? Would it not make one +weep? + +DESDEMONA It is my wretched fortune. + +IAGO +Beshrew him for 't! How comes this trick upon him? + +DESDEMONA Nay, heaven doth know. + +EMILIA +I will be hanged if some eternal villain, +Some busy and insinuating rogue, +Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office, +Have not devised this slander. I will be hanged else. + +IAGO +Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible. + +DESDEMONA +If any such there be, heaven pardon him. + +EMILIA +A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones! +Why should he call her "whore"? Who keeps her +company? +What place? What time? What form? What +likelihood? +The Moor's abused by some most villainous knave, +Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow. +O heaven, that such companions thou 'dst unfold, +And put in every honest hand a whip +To lash the rascals naked through the world, +Even from the east to th' west! + +IAGO Speak within door. + +EMILIA +O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was +That turned your wit the seamy side without +And made you to suspect me with the Moor. + +IAGO +You are a fool. Go to! + +DESDEMONA Alas, Iago, +What shall I do to win my lord again? +Good friend, go to him. For by this light of heaven, +I know not how I lost him. [She kneels.] Here I +kneel. +If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, +Either in discourse of thought or actual deed, +Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense +Delighted them in any other form, +Or that I do not yet, and ever did, +And ever will--though he do shake me off +To beggarly divorcement--love him dearly, +Comfort forswear me! [She stands.] Unkindness may +do much, +And his unkindness may defeat my life, +But never taint my love. I cannot say "whore"-- +It does abhor me now I speak the word. +To do the act that might the addition earn, +Not the world's mass of vanity could make me. + +IAGO +I pray you be content. 'Tis but his humor. +The business of the state does him offense, +And he does chide with you. + +DESDEMONA +If 'twere no other-- + +IAGO It is but so, I warrant. +[Trumpets sound.] +Hark how these instruments summon to supper. +The messengers of Venice stays the meat. +Go in and weep not. All things shall be well. +[Desdemona and Emilia exit.] + +[Enter Roderigo.] + +How now, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO I do not find +That thou deal'st justly with me. + +IAGO What in the contrary? + +RODERIGO Every day thou daff'st me with some device, +Iago, and rather, as it seems to me now, +keep'st from me all conveniency than suppliest me +with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no +longer endure it. Nor am I yet persuaded to put up +in peace what already I have foolishly suffered. + +IAGO Will you hear me, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO Faith, I have heard too much, and your +words and performances are no kin together. + +IAGO You charge me most unjustly. + +RODERIGO With naught but truth. I have wasted myself +out of my means. The jewels you have had +from me to deliver to Desdemona would half have +corrupted a votaress. You have told me she hath +received them, and returned me expectations and +comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I +find none. + +IAGO Well, go to! Very well. + +RODERIGO "Very well." "Go to!" I cannot go to, man, +nor 'tis not very well! By this hand, I say 'tis very +scurvy, and begin to find myself fopped in it. + +IAGO Very well. + +RODERIGO I tell you 'tis not very well! I will make +myself known to Desdemona. If she will return me +my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my +unlawful solicitation. If not, assure yourself I will +seek satisfaction of you. + +IAGO You have said now. + +RODERIGO Ay, and said nothing but what I protest +intendment of doing. + +IAGO Why, now I see there's mettle in thee, and even +from this instant do build on thee a better opinion +than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo. +Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, +but yet I protest I have dealt most directly in thy +affair. + +RODERIGO It hath not appeared. + +IAGO I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your +suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But, +Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed which I +have greater reason to believe now than ever--I +mean purpose, courage, and valor--this night show +it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, +take me from this world with treachery and +devise engines for my life. + +RODERIGO Well, what is it? Is it within reason and +compass? + +IAGO Sir, there is especial commission come from +Venice to depute Cassio in Othello's place. + +RODERIGO Is that true? Why, then, Othello and Desdemona +return again to Venice. + +IAGO O, no. He goes into Mauritania and takes away +with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be +lingered here by some accident--wherein none +can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio. + +RODERIGO How do you mean, removing him? + +IAGO Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's +place: knocking out his brains. + +RODERIGO And that you would have me to do? + +IAGO Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He +sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to +him. He knows not yet of his honorable fortune. If +you will watch his going thence (which I will +fashion to fall out between twelve and one), you may +take him at your pleasure. I will be near to second +your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, +stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will +show you such a necessity in his death that you shall +think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high +supper time, and the night grows to waste. About it! + +RODERIGO I will hear further reason for this. + +IAGO And you shall be satisfied. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and +Attendants.] + + +LODOVICO +I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further. + +OTHELLO +O, pardon me, 'twill do me good to walk. + +LODOVICO +Madam, good night. I humbly thank your Ladyship. + +DESDEMONA Your Honor is most welcome. + +OTHELLO +Will you walk, sir?--O, Desdemona-- + +DESDEMONA My lord? + +OTHELLO Get you to bed on th' instant. I will be +returned forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there. +Look 't be done. + +DESDEMONA I will, my lord. +[All but Desdemona and Emilia exit.] + +EMILIA +How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did. + +DESDEMONA +He says he will return incontinent, +And hath commanded me to go to bed, +And bade me to dismiss you. + +EMILIA Dismiss me? + +DESDEMONA +It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia, +Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu. +We must not now displease him. + +EMILIA I would you had never seen him. + +DESDEMONA +So would not I. My love doth so approve him +That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns-- +Prithee, unpin me--have grace and favor in them. + +EMILIA +I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. + +DESDEMONA +All's one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds! +If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me +In one of those same sheets. + +EMILIA Come, come, you talk! + +DESDEMONA +My mother had a maid called Barbary. +She was in love, and he she loved proved mad +And did forsake her. She had a song of willow, +An old thing 'twas, but it expressed her fortune, +And she died singing it. That song tonight +Will not go from my mind. I have much to do +But to go hang my head all at one side +And sing it like poor Barbary. Prithee, dispatch. + +EMILIA Shall I go fetch your nightgown? + +DESDEMONA No, unpin me here. +This Lodovico is a proper man. + +EMILIA A very handsome man. + +DESDEMONA He speaks well. + +EMILIA I know a lady in Venice would have walked +barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip. + +DESDEMONA, [singing] + The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, + Sing all a green willow. + Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, + Sing willow, willow, willow. + The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her +moans, + Sing willow, willow, willow; + Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the +stones-- +Lay by these. + Sing willow, willow, willow. +Prithee hie thee! He'll come anon. + Sing all a green willow must be my garland. + Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve. +Nay, that's not next. Hark, who is 't that knocks? + +EMILIA It's the wind. + +DESDEMONA + I called my love false love, but what said he then? + Sing willow, willow, willow. + If I court more women, you'll couch with more +men.-- +So, get thee gone. Good night. Mine eyes do itch; +Doth that bode weeping? + +EMILIA 'Tis neither here nor there. + +DESDEMONA +I have heard it said so. O these men, these men! +Dost thou in conscience think--tell me, Emilia-- +That there be women do abuse their husbands +In such gross kind? + +EMILIA There be some such, no +question. + +DESDEMONA +Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? + +EMILIA +Why, would not you? + +DESDEMONA No, by this heavenly light! + +EMILIA +Nor I neither, by this heavenly light. +I might do 't as well i' th' dark. + +DESDEMONA +Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? + +EMILIA The world's a huge thing. It is a great price +for a small vice. + +DESDEMONA In troth, I think thou wouldst not. + +EMILIA In troth, I think I should, and undo 't when I +had done it. Marry, I would not do such a thing for +a joint ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for +gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition. +But for the whole world--'Uds pity! Who +would not make her husband a cuckold to make +him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for 't. + +DESDEMONA Beshrew me if I would do such a wrong +for the whole world! + +EMILIA Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' th' world; +and, having the world for your labor, 'tis a wrong in +your own world, and you might quickly make it +right. + +DESDEMONA I do not think there is any such woman. + +EMILIA Yes, a dozen; and as many to th' vantage as +would store the world they played for. +But I do think it is their husbands' faults +If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties, +And pour our treasures into foreign laps; +Or else break out in peevish jealousies, +Throwing restraint upon us. Or say they strike us, +Or scant our former having in despite. +Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace, +Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know +Their wives have sense like them. They see, and +smell, +And have their palates both for sweet and sour, +As husbands have. What is it that they do +When they change us for others? Is it sport? +I think it is. And doth affection breed it? +I think it doth. Is 't frailty that thus errs? +It is so too. And have not we affections, +Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? +Then let them use us well. Else let them know, +The ills we do, their ills instruct us so. + +DESDEMONA +Good night, good night. God me such uses send, +Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Iago and Roderigo.] + + +IAGO +Here, stand behind this bulk. Straight will he +come. +Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home. +Quick, quick! Fear nothing. I'll be at thy elbow. +It makes us or it mars us--think on that, +And fix most firm thy resolution. + +RODERIGO +Be near at hand. I may miscarry in 't. + +IAGO +Here, at thy hand. Be bold and take thy stand. +[He moves aside.] + +RODERIGO +I have no great devotion to the deed, +And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons. +'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword! He dies. +[He draws his sword.] + +IAGO, [aside] +I have rubbed this young quat almost to the sense, +And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, +Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, +Every way makes my gain. Live Roderigo, +He calls me to a restitution large +Of gold and jewels that I bobbed from him +As gifts to Desdemona. +It must not be. If Cassio do remain, +He hath a daily beauty in his life +That makes me ugly. And besides, the Moor +May unfold me to him. There stand I in much peril. +No, he must die. Be 't so. I hear him coming. + +[Enter Cassio.] + + +RODERIGO +I know his gait. 'Tis he!--Villain, thou diest! +[He thrusts at Cassio.] + +CASSIO +That thrust had been mine enemy indeed +But that my coat is better than thou know'st. +I will make proof of thine. +[He draws, and stabs Roderigo.] + +RODERIGO O, I am slain! +[Roderigo falls.] +[Iago stabs Cassio in the leg, and exits.] + +CASSIO +I am maimed forever! Help, ho! Murder, murder! + +[Enter Othello.] + + +OTHELLO +The voice of Cassio! Iago keeps his word. + +RODERIGO O, villain that I am! + +OTHELLO, [aside] It is even so. + +CASSIO O, help ho! Light! A surgeon! + +OTHELLO, [aside] +'Tis he! O brave Iago, honest and just, +That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong! +Thou teachest me.--Minion, your dear lies dead, +And your unblest fate hies. Strumpet, I come. +Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are +blotted. +Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust's blood be +spotted. [Othello exits.] + +[Enter Lodovico and Gratiano.] + + +CASSIO +What ho! No watch? No passage? Murder, murder! + +GRATIANO +'Tis some mischance. The voice is very direful. + +CASSIO O, help! + +LODOVICO Hark! + +RODERIGO O wretched villain! + +LODOVICO +Two or three groan. 'Tis heavy night. +These may be counterfeits. Let's think 't unsafe +To come in to the cry without more help. + +RODERIGO +Nobody come? Then shall I bleed to death. + +[Enter Iago with a light.] + + +LODOVICO Hark! + +GRATIANO +Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and +weapons. + +IAGO +Who's there? Whose noise is this that cries on +murder? + +LODOVICO +We do not know. + +IAGO Did not you hear a cry? + +CASSIO +Here, here! For heaven's sake, help me! + +IAGO What's the matter? + +GRATIANO, [to Lodovico] +This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. + +LODOVICO +The same indeed, a very valiant fellow. + +IAGO, [to Cassio] +What are you here that cry so grievously? + +CASSIO +Iago? O, I am spoiled, undone by villains. +Give me some help! + +IAGO +O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this? + +CASSIO +I think that one of them is hereabout +And cannot make away. + +IAGO O treacherous villains! +[To Lodovico and Gratiano.] What are you there? +Come in, and give some help. + +RODERIGO O, help me here! + +CASSIO +That's one of them. + +IAGO, [to Roderigo] O murd'rous slave! O villain! +[He stabs Roderigo.] + +RODERIGO +O damned Iago! O inhuman dog! + +IAGO +Kill men i' th' dark?--Where be these bloody +thieves? +How silent is this town! Ho, murder, murder!-- +What may you be? Are you of good or evil? + +LODOVICO +As you shall prove us, praise us. + +IAGO Signior Lodovico? + +LODOVICO He, sir. + +IAGO +I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains. + +GRATIANO Cassio? + +IAGO +How is 't, brother? + +CASSIO My leg is cut in two. + +IAGO Marry, heaven forbid! +Light, gentlemen. I'll bind it with my shirt. + +[Enter Bianca.] + + +BIANCA +What is the matter, ho? Who is 't that cried? + +IAGO +Who is 't that cried? + +BIANCA O, my dear Cassio, +My sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio! + +IAGO +O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect +Who they should be that have thus mangled you? + +CASSIO No. + +GRATIANO +I am sorry to find you thus; I have been to seek you. + +IAGO +Lend me a garter. So.--O for a chair +To bear him easily hence! + +BIANCA +Alas, he faints. O, Cassio, Cassio, Cassio! + +IAGO +Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash +To be a party in this injury.-- +Patience awhile, good Cassio.--Come, come; +Lend me a light. [Peering at Roderigo.] Know we this +face or no? +Alas, my friend and my dear countryman +Roderigo? No! Yes, sure. O heaven, Roderigo! + +GRATIANO What, of Venice? + +IAGO Even he, sir. Did you know him? + +GRATIANO Know him? Ay. + +IAGO +Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle pardon. +These bloody accidents must excuse my manners +That so neglected you. + +GRATIANO I am glad to see you. + +IAGO +How do you, Cassio?--O, a chair, a chair! + +GRATIANO Roderigo? + +IAGO +He, he, 'tis he! [A chair is brought in.] O, that's well +said; the chair.-- +Some good man bear him carefully from hence. +I'll fetch the General's surgeon.-- For you, mistress, +Save you your labor.--He that lies slain here, +Cassio, +Was my dear friend. What malice was between you? + +CASSIO +None in the world. Nor do I know the man. + +IAGO, [to Bianca] +What, look you pale?--O, bear him out o' th' air. +[Cassio, in the chair, and Roderigo are carried off.] +[To Gratiano and Lodovico.] Stay you, good +gentlemen.--Look you pale, mistress?-- +Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?-- +Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.-- +Behold her well. I pray you, look upon her. +Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness will speak +Though tongues were out of use. + +[Enter Emilia.] + + +EMILIA +Alas, what is the matter? What is the matter, +husband? + +IAGO +Cassio hath here been set on in the dark +By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped. +He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead. + +EMILIA +Alas, good gentleman! Alas, good Cassio! + +IAGO +This is the fruits of whoring. Prithee, Emilia, +Go know of Cassio where he supped tonight. +[To Bianca.] What, do you shake at that? + +BIANCA +He supped at my house, but I therefore shake not. + +IAGO +O, did he so? I charge you go with me. + +EMILIA O fie upon thee, strumpet! + +BIANCA +I am no strumpet, but of life as honest +As you that thus abuse me. + +EMILIA As I? Faugh! Fie upon thee! + +IAGO +Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dressed.-- +Come, mistress, you must tell 's another tale.-- +Emilia, run you to the citadel +And tell my lord and lady what hath happed.-- +Will you go on afore? [Aside.] This is the night +That either makes me or fordoes me quite. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Othello with a light, and Desdemona in her bed.] + + +OTHELLO +It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. +Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars. +It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, +Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, +And smooth as monumental alabaster. +Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. +Put out the light, and then put out the light. +If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, +I can again thy former light restore +Should I repent me. But once put out thy light, +Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, +I know not where is that Promethean heat +That can thy light relume. When I have plucked the +rose, +I cannot give it vital growth again. +It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the tree. +O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade +Justice to break her sword! [He kisses her.] One +more, one more. +Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee +And love thee after. One more, and this the last. +[He kisses her.] +So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, +But they are cruel tears. This sorrow's heavenly: +It strikes where it doth love. She wakes. + +DESDEMONA +Who's there? Othello? + +OTHELLO Ay, Desdemona. + +DESDEMONA Will you come to bed, my lord? + +OTHELLO +Have you prayed tonight, Desdemon? + +DESDEMONA Ay, my lord. + +OTHELLO +If you bethink yourself of any crime +Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, +Solicit for it straight. + +DESDEMONA Alack, my lord, +What may you mean by that? + +OTHELLO +Well, do it, and be brief. I will walk by. +I would not kill thy unprepared spirit. +No, heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul. + +DESDEMONA Talk you of killing? + +OTHELLO +Ay, I do. + +DESDEMONA Then heaven have mercy on me. + +OTHELLO Amen, with all my heart. + +DESDEMONA +If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. + +OTHELLO Humh. + +DESDEMONA +And yet I fear you, for you're fatal then +When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know +not, +Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear. + +OTHELLO +Think on thy sins. + +DESDEMONA They are loves I bear to you. + +OTHELLO Ay, and for that thou diest. + +DESDEMONA +That death's unnatural that kills for loving. +Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? +Some bloody passion shakes your very frame. +These are portents, but yet I hope, I hope +They do not point on me. + +OTHELLO Peace, and be still. + +DESDEMONA +I will so. What's the matter? + +OTHELLO That handkerchief +Which I so loved, and gave thee, thou gav'st to +Cassio. + +DESDEMONA +No, by my life and soul! Send for the man +And ask him. + +OTHELLO +Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury. +Thou art on thy deathbed. + +DESDEMONA +Ay, but not yet to die. + +OTHELLO Yes, presently. +Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin. +For to deny each article with oath +Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception +That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. + +DESDEMONA +Then Lord have mercy on me! + +OTHELLO I say "Amen." + +DESDEMONA +And have you mercy, too. I never did +Offend you in my life, never loved Cassio +But with such general warranty of heaven +As I might love. I never gave him token. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in 's hand! +O perjured woman, thou dost stone my heart +And mak'st me call what I intend to do +A murder, which I thought a sacrifice! +I saw the handkerchief! + +DESDEMONA He found it, then. +I never gave it him. Send for him hither. +Let him confess a truth. + +OTHELLO He hath confessed. + +DESDEMONA What, my lord? + +OTHELLO +That he hath used thee. + +DESDEMONA How? Unlawfully? + +OTHELLO Ay. + +DESDEMONA +He will not say so. + +OTHELLO No. His mouth is stopped. +Honest Iago hath ta'en order for 't. + +DESDEMONA +O, my fear interprets. What, is he dead? + +OTHELLO +Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge +Had stomach for them all. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone. [She weeps.] + +OTHELLO +Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face? + +DESDEMONA +O banish me, my lord, but kill me not! + +OTHELLO Down, strumpet! + +DESDEMONA +Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight. + +OTHELLO Nay, if you strive-- + +DESDEMONA +But half an hour! + +OTHELLO Being done, there is no pause. + +DESDEMONA +But while I say one prayer! + +OTHELLO It is too late. +[He smothers her.] + +EMILIA, [within] +My lord, my lord? What ho! My lord, my lord! + +OTHELLO +What noise is this?--Not dead? Not yet quite dead? +I that am cruel am yet merciful. +I would not have thee linger in thy pain. +So, so. + +EMILIA, [within] What, ho! My lord, my lord! + +OTHELLO Who's +there? + +EMILIA, [within] +O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you. + +OTHELLO +Yes. 'Tis Emilia.--By and by.--She's dead. +'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death. +The noise was here. Ha, no more moving? +Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were 't good? +I think she stirs again. No. What's best to do? +If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife. +My wife, my wife! What wife? I have no wife. +O insupportable! O heavy hour! +Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse +Of sun and moon, and that th' affrighted globe +Should yawn at alteration. + +EMILIA, [within] I do beseech you +That I may speak with you. O, good my lord-- + +OTHELLO +I had forgot thee. O, come in, Emilia.-- +Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw.-- +Where art thou? + +[Enter Emilia.] + +What's the matter with thee now? + +EMILIA +O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders done. + +OTHELLO What? Now? + +EMILIA But now, my lord. + +OTHELLO +It is the very error of the moon. +She comes more nearer Earth than she was wont +And makes men mad. + +EMILIA Cassio, my lord, hath killed +A young Venetian called Roderigo. + +OTHELLO +Roderigo killed? And Cassio killed? + +EMILIA No, Cassio is not killed. + +OTHELLO +Not Cassio killed? Then murder's out of tune, +And sweet revenge grows harsh. + +DESDEMONA O falsely, falsely murdered. + +EMILIA +O Lord, what cry is that? + +OTHELLO That? What? + +EMILIA +Out, and alas, that was my lady's voice! +Help! Help ho! Help! O lady, speak again! +Sweet Desdemona, O sweet mistress, speak! + +DESDEMONA A guiltless death I die. + +EMILIA O, who hath done this deed? + +DESDEMONA Nobody. I myself. Farewell. +Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell. +[She dies.] + +OTHELLO +Why, how should she be murdered? + +EMILIA Alas, who +knows? + +OTHELLO +You heard her say herself, it was not I. + +EMILIA +She said so. I must needs report the truth. + +OTHELLO +She's like a liar gone to burning hell! +'Twas I that killed her. + +EMILIA +O, the more angel she, and you the blacker devil! + +OTHELLO +She turned to folly, and she was a whore. + +EMILIA +Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil! + +OTHELLO She was false as water. + +EMILIA Thou art rash as fire to say +That she was false. O, she was heavenly true! + +OTHELLO +Cassio did top her. Ask thy husband else. +O, I were damned beneath all depth in hell +But that I did proceed upon just grounds +To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all. + +EMILIA My husband? + +OTHELLO Thy husband. + +EMILIA That she was false to wedlock? + +OTHELLO +Ay, with Cassio. Had she been true, +If heaven would make me such another world +Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, +I'd not have sold her for it. + +EMILIA My husband? + +OTHELLO +Ay, 'twas he that told me on her first. +An honest man he is, and hates the slime +That sticks on filthy deeds. + +EMILIA My husband? + +OTHELLO +What needs this iterance, woman? I say, thy +husband. + +EMILIA +O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!-- +My husband say she was false? + +OTHELLO He, woman. +I say thy husband. Dost understand the word? +My friend, thy husband; honest, honest Iago. + +EMILIA +If he say so, may his pernicious soul +Rot half a grain a day! He lies to th' heart! +She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. +[He draws his sword.] + +OTHELLO Hah? + +EMILIA Do thy worst! +This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven +Than thou wast worthy her. + +OTHELLO Peace, you were best! + +EMILIA +Thou hast not half that power to do me harm +As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt, +As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed-- +I care not for thy sword. I'll make thee known, +Though I lost twenty lives. Help! Help, ho! Help! +The Moor hath killed my mistress! Murder, murder! + +[Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.] + + +MONTANO +What is the matter? How now, general? + +EMILIA +O, are you come, Iago? You have done well, +That men must lay their murders on your neck. + +GRATIANO What is the matter? + +EMILIA, [to Iago] +Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man. +He says thou told'st him that his wife was false. +I know thou didst not. Thou 'rt not such a villain. +Speak, for my heart is full. + +IAGO +I told him what I thought, and told no more +Than what he found himself was apt and true. + +EMILIA +But did you ever tell him she was false? + +IAGO I did. + +EMILIA +You told a lie, an odious, damned lie! +Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie! +She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio? + +IAGO +With Cassio, mistress. Go to! Charm your tongue. + +EMILIA +I will not charm my tongue. I am bound to speak. +My mistress here lies murdered in her bed. + +ALL O heavens forfend! + +EMILIA, [to Iago] +And your reports have set the murder on! + +OTHELLO +Nay, stare not, masters; it is true indeed. + +GRATIANO 'Tis a strange truth. + +MONTANO +O monstrous act! + +EMILIA Villainy, villainy, villainy! +I think upon 't, I think! I smell 't! O villainy! +I thought so then. I'll kill myself for grief! +O villainy! Villainy! + +IAGO +What, are you mad? I charge you get you home. + +EMILIA +Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. +'Tis proper I obey him, but not now. +Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home. + +OTHELLO +O, O, O! [Othello falls on the bed.] + +EMILIA Nay, lay thee down, and roar! +For thou hast killed the sweetest innocent +That e'er did lift up eye. + +OTHELLO, [standing] O, she was foul!-- +I scarce did know you, uncle. There lies your niece, +Whose breath indeed these hands have newly +stopped. +I know this act shows horrible and grim. + +GRATIANO +Poor Desdemon, I am glad thy father's dead. +Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief +Shore his old thread in twain. Did he live now, +This sight would make him do a desperate turn, +Yea, curse his better angel from his side, +And fall to reprobance. + +OTHELLO +'Tis pitiful. But yet Iago knows +That she with Cassio hath the act of shame +A thousand times committed. Cassio confessed it, +And she did gratify his amorous works +With that recognizance and pledge of love +Which I first gave her. I saw it in his hand. +It was a handkerchief, an antique token +My father gave my mother. + +EMILIA O God! O heavenly God! + +IAGO +Zounds, hold your peace! + +EMILIA 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace? +No, I will speak as liberal as the north. +Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, +All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. + +IAGO Be wise, and get you home. +[He draws his sword.] + +EMILIA +I will not. + +GRATIANO Fie, your sword upon a woman! + +EMILIA +O thou dull Moor, that handkerchief thou speak'st +of +I found by fortune, and did give my husband-- +For often, with a solemn earnestness +(More than indeed belonged to such a trifle), +He begged of me to steal 't. + +IAGO Villainous whore! + +EMILIA +She give it Cassio? No, alas, I found it, +And I did give 't my husband. + +IAGO Filth, thou liest! + +EMILIA +By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen! +[To Othello.] O murd'rous coxcomb, what should +such a fool +Do with so good a wife? + +OTHELLO Are there no stones in heaven +But what serves for the thunder?--Precious villain! +[The Moor runs at Iago but is disarmed.] +[Iago kills his wife.] + +GRATIANO +The woman falls! Sure he hath killed his wife. + +EMILIA +Ay, ay! O, lay me by my mistress' side. [Iago exits.] + +GRATIANO He's gone, but his wife's killed. + +MONTANO +'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon +Which I have here recovered from the Moor. +Come, guard the door without. Let him not pass, +But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain, +For 'tis a damned slave. +[Montano and Gratiano exit.] + +OTHELLO I am not valiant neither, +But every puny whipster gets my sword. +But why should honor outlive honesty? +Let it go all. + +EMILIA What did thy song bode, lady? +Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan +And die in music. +[She sings.] Willow, willow, willow. +Moor, she was chaste. She loved thee, cruel Moor. +So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true. +So speaking as I think, alas, I die. [She dies.] + +OTHELLO +I have another weapon in this chamber. +It is a sword of Spain, the ice brook's temper. +O, here it is.--Uncle, I must come forth. + +GRATIANO, [within] +If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear; +Thou hast no weapon and perforce must suffer. + +OTHELLO +Look in upon me, then, and speak with me, +Or naked as I am I will assault thee. + +[Enter Gratiano.] + + +GRATIANO +What is the matter? + +OTHELLO Behold, I have a weapon. +A better never did itself sustain +Upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day +That with this little arm and this good sword +I have made my way through more impediments +Than twenty times your stop. But--O vain boast!-- +Who can control his fate? 'Tis not so now. +Be not afraid, though you do see me weaponed. +Here is my journey's end, here is my butt +And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. +Do you go back dismayed? 'Tis a lost fear. +Man but a rush against Othello's breast, +And he retires. Where should Othello go? +[He looks toward the bed.] +Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starred wench, +Pale as thy smock, when we shall meet at compt, +This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, +And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl? +Even like thy chastity.--O cursed, cursed slave!-- +Whip me, you devils, +From the possession of this heavenly sight! +Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulfur, +Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire! +O Desdemon! Dead, Desdemon! Dead! O, O! + + [Enter Lodovico, Cassio in a chair, Montano, and Iago, +with Officers.] + + +LODOVICO +Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? + +OTHELLO +That's he that was Othello. Here I am. + +LODOVICO +Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth. +[Iago is brought forward.] + +OTHELLO +I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.-- +If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. +[He stabs Iago.] + +LODOVICO +Wrench his sword from him. +[Othello is disarmed.] + +IAGO I bleed, sir, but not killed. + +OTHELLO +I am not sorry neither. I'd have thee live, +For in my sense 'tis happiness to die. + +LODOVICO +O thou Othello, that wert once so good, +Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave, +What shall be said to thee? + +OTHELLO Why, anything. +An honorable murderer, if you will, +For naught I did in hate, but all in honor. + +LODOVICO +This wretch hath part confessed his villainy. +Did you and he consent in Cassio's death? + +OTHELLO Ay. + +CASSIO +Dear general, I never gave you cause. + +OTHELLO +I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. +Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil +Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body? + +IAGO +Demand me nothing. What you know, you know. +From this time forth I never will speak word. + +LODOVICO What? Not to pray? + +GRATIANO Torments will ope your lips. + +OTHELLO Well, thou dost best. + +LODOVICO Sir, +You shall understand what hath befall'n, +Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter +Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo, +And here another. [He shows papers.] The one of +them imports +The death of Cassio, to be undertook +By Roderigo. + +OTHELLO +O villain! + +CASSIO Most heathenish and most gross. + +LODOVICO +Now here's another discontented paper +Found in his pocket, too; and this it seems +Roderigo meant t' have sent this damned villain, +But that, belike, Iago in the interim +Came in and satisfied him. + +OTHELLO O, thou pernicious caitiff!-- +How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief +That was my wife's? + +CASSIO I found it in my chamber. +And he himself confessed it but even now, +That there he dropped it for a special purpose +Which wrought to his desire. + +OTHELLO O fool, fool, fool! + +CASSIO +There is besides, in Roderigo's letter, +How he upbraids Iago, that he made him +Brave me upon the watch, whereon it came +That I was cast. And even but now he spake, +After long seeming dead: Iago hurt him, +Iago set him on. + +LODOVICO, [to Othello] +You must forsake this room and go with us. +Your power and your command is taken off, +And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, +If there be any cunning cruelty +That can torment him much and hold him long, +It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest, +Till that the nature of your fault be known +To the Venetian state.--Come, bring away. + +OTHELLO +Soft you. A word or two before you go. +I have done the state some service, and they +know 't. +No more of that. I pray you in your letters, +When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, +Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, +Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak +Of one that loved not wisely, but too well; +Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, +Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, +Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away +Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued +eyes, +Albeit unused to the melting mood, +Drops tears as fast as the Arabian trees +Their medicinable gum. Set you down this. +And say besides, that in Aleppo once, +Where a malignant and a turbanned Turk +Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, +I took by th' throat the circumcised dog, +And smote him, thus. [He stabs himself.] + +LODOVICO O bloody period! + +GRATIANO All that is spoke is marred. + +OTHELLO, [to Desdemona] +I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, +Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. [He dies.] + +CASSIO +This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon, +For he was great of heart. + +LODOVICO, [to Iago] O Spartan dog, +More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea, +Look on the tragic loading of this bed. +This is thy work.--The object poisons sight. +Let it be hid.--Gratiano, keep the house, +And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, +For they succeed on you. [To Cassio.] To you, lord +governor, +Remains the censure of this hellish villain. +The time, the place, the torture, O, enforce it. +Myself will straight aboard, and to the state +This heavy act with heavy heart relate. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/pericles_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/pericles_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..07c0f3e --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/pericles_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3837 @@ +Pericles, Prince of Tyre +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/pericles/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +GOWER, fourteenth-century poet and Chorus of the play +PERICLES, prince of Tyre +THAISA, princess of Pentapolis and wife to Pericles +MARINA, daughter of Pericles and Thaisa +Lords of Tyre: + HELICANUS + ESCANES +Three other LORDS of Tyre +ANTIOCHUS, king of Antioch +DAUGHTER, princess of Antioch +THALIARD, nobleman of Antioch +MESSENGER +CLEON, governor of Tarsus +DIONYZA, wife to Cleon +LEONINE, servant to Dionyza +A LORD of Tarsus +Three PIRATES +SIMONIDES, king of Pentapolis +Three FISHERMEN +MARSHAL +Five KNIGHTS, suitors for the hand of Thaisa +LORDS of Pentapolis +LYCHORIDA, attendant to Thaisa and, later, to Marina +Two SAILORS, mariners onboard ship from Pentapolis +LORD CERIMON, a wiseman/physician in Ephesus +PHILEMON, servant to Cerimon +Two SUPPLIANTS +Two GENTLEMEN of Ephesus +SERVANT +DIANA, goddess of chastity +LYSIMACHUS, governor of Mytilene +PANDER, owner of brothel +BAWD, mistress of brothel and wife to Pander +BOLT, servant to Pander and Bawd +Two GENTLEMEN, visitors to brothel +Tyrian SAILOR +SAILOR from Mytilene +GENTLEMAN of Tyre +LORD of Mytilene +Followers of Antiochus, Attendants to Pericles, Attendants to Simonides, Squires to the five Knights, Tyrian gentlemen, Citizens of Tarsus, Ladies of Pentapolis, Servants to Cerimon, Companion to Marina, Priestesses in Diana's temple, Messenger from Tyre + + +ACT 1 +===== + +1 Chorus +======== +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +To sing a song that old was sung, +From ashes ancient Gower is come, +Assuming man's infirmities +To glad your ear and please your eyes. +It hath been sung at festivals, +On ember eves and holy days, +And lords and ladies in their lives +Have read it for restoratives. +The purchase is to make men glorious, +Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius. +If you, born in these latter times +When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes, +And that to hear an old man sing +May to your wishes pleasure bring, +I life would wish, and that I might +Waste it for you like taper light. +This Antioch, then: Antiochus the Great +Built up this city for his chiefest seat, +The fairest in all Syria. +I tell you what mine authors say. +This king unto him took a peer, +Who died and left a female heir +So buxom, blithe, and full of face +As heaven had lent her all his grace; +With whom the father liking took +And her to incest did provoke. +Bad child, worse father! To entice his own +To evil should be done by none. +But custom what they did begin +Was with long use accounted no sin. +The beauty of this sinful dame +Made many princes thither frame +To seek her as a bedfellow, +In marriage pleasures playfellow; +Which to prevent he made a law +To keep her still, and men in awe, +That whoso asked her for his wife, +His riddle told not, lost his life. +So for her many a wight did die, +As yon grim looks do testify. +[He indicates heads above the stage.] +What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye +I give my cause, who best can justify. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Antiochus, Prince Pericles, and followers.] + + +ANTIOCHUS +Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large received +The danger of the task you undertake. + +PERICLES +I have, Antiochus, and with a soul +Emboldened with the glory of her praise +Think death no hazard in this enterprise. + +ANTIOCHUS +Music! [Music sounds offstage.] +Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride +For embracements even of Jove himself, +At whose conception, till Lucina reigned, +Nature this dowry gave: to glad her presence, +The senate house of planets all did sit +To knit in her their best perfections. + +[Enter Antiochus' daughter.] + + +PERICLES +See where she comes, appareled like the spring, +Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king +Of every virtue gives renown to men! +Her face the book of praises, where is read +Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence +Sorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath +Could never be her mild companion. +You gods that made me man, and sway in love, +That have inflamed desire in my breast +To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree +Or die in th' adventure, be my helps, +As I am son and servant to your will, +To compass such a boundless happiness. + +ANTIOCHUS +Prince Pericles-- + +PERICLES +That would be son to great Antiochus. + +ANTIOCHUS +Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, +With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touched; +For deathlike dragons here affright thee hard. +Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view +Her countless glory, which desert must gain; +And which without desert, because thine eye +Presumes to reach, all the whole heap must die. +[He points to the heads.] +Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself, +Drawn by report, advent'rous by desire, +Tell thee with speechless tongues and semblance pale +That, without covering save yon field of stars, +Here they stand martyrs slain in Cupid's wars, +And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist +For going on death's net, whom none resist. + +PERICLES +Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught +My frail mortality to know itself, +And by those fearful objects to prepare +This body, like to them, to what I must. +For death remembered should be like a mirror +Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error. +I'll make my will, then, and as sick men do +Who know the world, see heaven but, feeling woe, +Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did; +So I bequeath a happy peace to you +And all good men, as every prince should do; +My riches to the earth from whence they came, +[To the Daughter.] But my unspotted fire of love to +you.-- +Thus ready for the way of life or death, +I wait the sharpest blow. + +ANTIOCHUS +Scorning advice, read the conclusion, then: +Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, +As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed. + +DAUGHTER +Of all 'sayed yet, mayst thou prove prosperous; +Of all 'sayed yet, I wish thee happiness. + +PERICLES +Like a bold champion I assume the lists, +Nor ask advice of any other thought +But faithfulness and courage. +[He reads the Riddle:] + I am no viper, yet I feed + On mother's flesh which did me breed. + I sought a husband, in which labor + I found that kindness in a father. + He's father, son, and husband mild; + I mother, wife, and yet his child. + How they may be, and yet in two, + As you will live resolve it you. +[Aside.] Sharp physic is the last! But, O you powers +That gives heaven countless eyes to view men's acts, +Why cloud they not their sights perpetually +If this be true which makes me pale to read it? +Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still +Were not this glorious casket stored with ill. +But I must tell you now my thoughts revolt; +For he's no man on whom perfections wait +That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. +You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings +Who, fingered to make man his lawful music, +Would draw heaven down and all the gods to +hearken; +But, being played upon before your time, +Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. +Good sooth, I care not for you. + +ANTIOCHUS +Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, +For that's an article within our law +As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expired. +Either expound now or receive your sentence. + +PERICLES Great king, +Few love to hear the sins they love to act. +'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. +Who has a book of all that monarchs do, +He's more secure to keep it shut than shown. +For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind, +Blows dust in others' eyes to spread itself; +And yet the end of all is bought thus dear: +The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear +To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts +Copped hills towards heaven, to tell the Earth is +thronged +By man's oppression, and the poor worm doth die +for 't. +Kings are Earth's gods; in vice their law's their will; +And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill? +It is enough you know; and it is fit, +What being more known grows worse, to smother it. +All love the womb that their first being bred; +Then give my tongue like leave to love my head. + +ANTIOCHUS, [aside] +Heaven, that I had thy head! He has found the +meaning. +But I will gloze with him.--Young Prince of Tyre, +Though by the tenor of our strict edict, +Your exposition misinterpreting, +We might proceed to cancel of your days, +Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree +As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise. +Forty days longer we do respite you, +If by which time our secret be undone, +This mercy shows we'll joy in such a son. +And until then, your entertain shall be +As doth befit our honor and your worth. +[All except Pericles exit.] + +PERICLES +How courtesy would seem to cover sin +When what is done is like an hypocrite, +The which is good in nothing but in sight. +If it be true that I interpret false, +Then were it certain you were not so bad +As with foul incest to abuse your soul; +Where now you're both a father and a son +By your untimely claspings with your child, +Which pleasures fits a husband, not a father, +And she an eater of her mother's flesh +By the defiling of her parents' bed; +And both like serpents are, who, though they feed +On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. +Antioch, farewell, for wisdom sees those men +Blush not in actions blacker than the night +Will 'schew no course to keep them from the light. +One sin, I know, another doth provoke; +Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke. +Poison and treason are the hands of sin, +Ay, and the targets to put off the shame. +Then, lest my life be cropped to keep you clear, +By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. [He exits.] + +[Enter Antiochus.] + + +ANTIOCHUS He hath found the meaning, +For which we mean to have his head. +He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, +Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin +In such a loathed manner. +And therefore instantly this prince must die, +For by his fall my honor must keep high.-- +Who attends us there? + +[Enter Thaliard.] + + +THALIARD Doth your Highness call? + +ANTIOCHUS +Thaliard, you are of our chamber, Thaliard, +And our mind partakes her private actions +To your secrecy; and for your faithfulness +We will advance you, Thaliard. Behold, +Here's poison, and here's gold. [He gives poison and +money.] We hate the Prince +Of Tyre, and thou must kill him. It fits thee not +To ask the reason why: because we bid it. +Say, is it done? + +THALIARD My lord, 'tis done. + +ANTIOCHUS Enough. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste. + +MESSENGER My lord, Prince Pericles is fled. [He exits.] + +ANTIOCHUS, [to Thaliard] As thou wilt live, fly after, +and like an arrow shot from a well-experienced +archer hits the mark his eye doth level at, so thou +never return unless thou say Prince Pericles is +dead. + +THALIARD My lord, if I can get him within my pistol's +length, I'll make him sure enough. So, farewell to +your Highness. + +ANTIOCHUS +Thaliard, adieu. Till Pericles be dead, +My heart can lend no succor to my head. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Pericles with an Attendant.] + + +PERICLES +Let none disturb us. [(Attendant exits.)] Why should +this change of thoughts, +The sad companion dull-eyed Melancholy, +Be my so used a guest as not an hour +In the day's glorious walk or peaceful night, +The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me +quiet? +Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun +them; +And danger, which I feared, is at Antioch, +Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here. +Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits, +Nor yet the other's distance comfort me. +Then it is thus: the passions of the mind +That have their first conception by misdread +Have after-nourishment and life by care; +And what was first but fear what might be done +Grows elder now, and cares it be not done. +And so with me. The great Antiochus, +'Gainst whom I am too little to contend, +Since he's so great can make his will his act, +Will think me speaking though I swear to silence; +Nor boots it me to say I honor him +If he suspect I may dishonor him. +And what may make him blush in being known, +He'll stop the course by which it might be known. +With hostile forces he'll o'er-spread the land, +And with th' ostent of war will look so huge +Amazement shall drive courage from the state, +Our men be vanquished ere they do resist, +And subjects punished that ne'er thought offense; +Which care of them, not pity of myself, +Who am no more but as the tops of trees +Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them, +Makes both my body pine and soul to languish +And punish that before that he would punish. + +[Enter Helicanus and all the Lords to Pericles.] + + +FIRST LORD +Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast. + +SECOND LORD +And keep your mind till you return to us +Peaceful and comfortable. + +HELICANUS +Peace, peace, and give experience tongue. +They do abuse the King that flatter him, +For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; +The thing the which is flattered, but a spark +To which that wind gives heat and stronger glowing; +Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, +Fits kings as they are men, for they may err. +When Signior Sooth here does proclaim peace, +He flatters you, makes war upon your life. +[He kneels.] +Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please. +I cannot be much lower than my knees. + +PERICLES +All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook +What shipping and what lading's in our haven, +And then return to us. [The Lords exit.] +Helicanus, +Thou hast moved us. What seest thou in our looks? + +HELICANUS An angry brow, dread lord. + +PERICLES +If there be such a dart in princes' frowns, +How durst thy tongue move anger to our face? + +HELICANUS +How dares the plants look up to heaven, +From whence they have their nourishment? + +PERICLES +Thou knowest I have power to take thy life from thee. + +HELICANUS I have ground the ax myself; +Do but you strike the blow. + +PERICLES +Rise, prithee rise. [Helicanus rises.] +Sit down. Thou art no flatterer. +I thank thee for 't; and heaven forbid +That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid. +Fit counselor and servant for a prince, +Who by thy wisdom makes a prince thy servant, +What wouldst thou have me do? + +HELICANUS To bear with patience such griefs +As you yourself do lay upon yourself. + +PERICLES +Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus, +That ministers a potion unto me +That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself. +Attend me, then: I went to Antioch, +Where, as thou know'st, against the face of death +I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty +From whence an issue I might propagate, +Are arms to princes and bring joys to subjects. +Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder, +The rest--hark in thine ear--as black as incest, +Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father +Seemed not to strike, but smooth. But thou know'st +this: +'Tis time to fear when tyrants seems to kiss; +Which fear so grew in me I hither fled +Under the covering of a careful night, +Who seemed my good protector; and, being here, +Bethought me what was past, what might succeed. +I knew him tyrannous, and tyrants' fears +Decrease not but grow faster than the years; +And should he doubt, as no doubt he doth, +That I should open to the list'ning air +How many worthy princes' bloods were shed +To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope, +To lop that doubt he'll fill this land with arms, +And make pretense of wrong that I have done him; +When all, for mine--if I may call 't--offense, +Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence; +Which love to all--of which thyself art one, +Who now reproved'st me for 't-- + +HELICANUS Alas, sir! + +PERICLES +Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks, +Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts +How I might stop this tempest ere it came; +And finding little comfort to relieve them, +I thought it princely charity to grieve for them. + +HELICANUS +Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak, +Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear, +And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant, +Who either by public war or private treason +Will take away your life. +Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while, +Till that his rage and anger be forgot, +Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life. +Your rule direct to any. If to me, +Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be. + +PERICLES I do not doubt thy faith. +But should he wrong my liberties in my absence? + +HELICANUS +We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth, +From whence we had our being and our birth. + +PERICLES +Tyre, I now look from thee, then, and to Tarsus +Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee, +And by whose letters I'll dispose myself. +The care I had and have of subjects' good +On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it. +I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath. +Who shuns not to break one will crack both. +But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe +That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince. +Thou showed'st a subject's shine, I a true prince. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Thaliard alone.] + + +THALIARD So this is Tyre, and this the court. Here +must I kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am +sure to be hanged at home. 'Tis dangerous. Well, I +perceive he was a wise fellow and had good discretion +that, being bid to ask what he would of the +king, desired he might know none of his secrets. +Now do I see he had some reason for 't, for if a +king bid a man be a villain, he's bound by the +indenture of his oath to be one. Husht! Here +comes the lords of Tyre. [He steps aside.] + +[Enter Helicanus and Escanes, with other Lords.] + + +HELICANUS +You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre, +Further to question me of your king's departure. +His sealed commission left in trust with me +Does speak sufficiently he's gone to travel. + +THALIARD, [aside] How? The King gone? + +HELICANUS +If further yet you will be satisfied +Why, as it were, unlicensed of your loves +He would depart, I'll give some light unto you. +Being at Antioch-- + +THALIARD, [aside] What from Antioch? + +HELICANUS +Royal Antiochus, on what cause I know not, +Took some displeasure at him--at least he judged so; +And doubting lest he had erred or sinned, +To show his sorrow, he'd correct himself; +So puts himself unto the shipman's toil, +With whom each minute threatens life or death. + +THALIARD, [aside] Well, I perceive I shall not be hanged +now, although I would; but since he's gone, the +King's ears it must please. He 'scaped the land to +perish at the sea. I'll present myself.--Peace to the +lords of Tyre! + +HELICANUS +Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome. + +THALIARD From him I come with message unto princely +Pericles, but since my landing I have understood +your lord has betook himself to unknown travels. +Now message must return from whence it came. + +HELICANUS We have no reason to desire it, +Commended to our master, not to us. +Yet ere you shall depart, this we desire: +As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Cleon the Governor of Tarsus, with his wife +Dionyza and others.] + + +CLEON +My Dionyza, shall we rest us here +And, by relating tales of others' griefs, +See if 'twill teach us to forget our own? + +DIONYZA +That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it; +For who digs hills because they do aspire +Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher. +O, my distressed lord, even such our griefs are. +Here they are but felt, and seen with mischief's eyes, +But like to groves, being topped, they higher rise. + +CLEON O Dionyza, +Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it, +Or can conceal his hunger till he famish? +Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep our woes +Into the air, our eyes do weep till lungs +Fetch breath that may proclaim them louder, that +If heaven slumber while their creatures want, +They may awake their helpers to comfort them. +I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years, +And, wanting breath to speak, help me with tears. + +DIONYZA I'll do my best, sir. + +CLEON +This Tarsus, o'er which I have the government, +A city on whom Plenty held full hand, +For Riches strewed herself even in her streets; +Whose towers bore heads so high they kissed the +clouds, +And strangers ne'er beheld but wondered at; +Whose men and dames so jetted and adorned, +Like one another's glass to trim them by; +Their tables were stored full to glad the sight, +And not so much to feed on as delight; +All poverty was scorned, and pride so great, +The name of help grew odious to repeat. + +DIONYZA O, 'tis too true. + +CLEON +But see what heaven can do by this our change: +These mouths who but of late earth, sea, and air +Were all too little to content and please, +Although they gave their creatures in abundance, +As houses are defiled for want of use, +They are now starved for want of exercise. +Those palates who not yet two savors younger +Must have inventions to delight the taste, +Would now be glad of bread and beg for it. +Those mothers who, to nuzzle up their babes, +Thought naught too curious, are ready now +To eat those little darlings whom they loved. +So sharp are hunger's teeth that man and wife +Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life. +Here stands a lord and there a lady weeping; +Here many sink, yet those which see them fall +Have scarce strength left to give them burial. +Is not this true? + +DIONYZA +Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. + +CLEON +O, let those cities that of Plenty's cup +And her prosperities so largely taste, +With their superfluous riots, hear these tears. +The misery of Tarsus may be theirs. + +[Enter a Lord.] + + +LORD Where's the Lord Governor? + +CLEON Here. +Speak out thy sorrows, which thee bring'st in haste, +For comfort is too far for us to expect. + +LORD +We have descried upon our neighboring shore +A portly sail of ships make hitherward. + +CLEON I thought as much. +One sorrow never comes but brings an heir +That may succeed as his inheritor; +And so in ours. Some neighboring nation, +Taking advantage of our misery, +Hath stuffed the hollow vessels with their power +To beat us down, the which are down already, +And make a conquest of unhappy men, +Whereas no glory's got to overcome. + +LORD +That's the least fear, for, by the semblance +Of their white flags displayed, they bring us peace +And come to us as favorers, not as foes. + +CLEON +Thou speak'st like him's untutored to repeat +"Who makes the fairest show means most deceit." +But bring they what they will and what they can, +What need we fear? +The ground's the lowest, and we are halfway there. +Go tell their general we attend him here, +To know for what he comes and whence he comes +And what he craves. + +LORD I go, my lord. [He exits.] + +CLEON +Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist; +If wars, we are unable to resist. + +[Enter Pericles with Attendants.] + + +PERICLES +Lord Governor, for so we hear you are, +Let not our ships and number of our men +Be like a beacon fired t' amaze your eyes. +We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre +And seen the desolation of your streets; +Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, +But to relieve them of their heavy load; +And these our ships, you happily may think +Are like the Trojan horse was stuffed within +With bloody veins expecting overthrow, +Are stored with corn to make your needy bread +And give them life whom hunger starved half dead. + +ALL, [kneeling] +The gods of Greece protect you, and we'll pray for +you. + +PERICLES Arise, I pray you, rise. +We do not look for reverence, but for love, +And harborage for ourself, our ships, and men. + +CLEON, [rising, with the others] +The which when any shall not gratify +Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought, +Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves, +The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils! +Till when--the which I hope shall ne'er be seen-- +Your Grace is welcome to our town and us. + +PERICLES +Which welcome we'll accept, feast here awhile, +Until our stars that frown lend us a smile. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +2 Chorus +======== +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Here have you seen a mighty king +His child, iwis, to incest bring; +A better prince and benign lord +That will prove awful both in deed and word. +Be quiet, then, as men should be, +Till he hath passed necessity. +I'll show you those in troubles reign, +Losing a mite, a mountain gain. +The good in conversation, +To whom I give my benison, +Is still at Tarsus, where each man +Thinks all is Writ he speken can, +And, to remember what he does, +Build his statue to make him glorious. +But tidings to the contrary +Are brought your eyes. What need speak I? + +[Dumb Show. + +Enter at one door Pericles talking with Cleon, all the +train with them. Enter at another door a Gentleman, +with a letter to Pericles. Pericles shows the letter to +Cleon. Pericles gives the Messenger a reward and knights +him. Pericles exits at one door, and Cleon at another.] + + +Good Helicane, that stayed at home-- +Not to eat honey like a drone +From others' labors, for though he strive +To killen bad, keep good alive, +And to fulfill his prince' desire-- +Sends word of all that haps in Tyre: +How Thaliard came full bent with sin, +And had intent to murder him; +And that in Tarsus was not best +Longer for him to make his rest. +He, doing so, put forth to seas, +Where when men been there's seldom ease; +For now the wind begins to blow; +Thunder above and deeps below +Makes such unquiet that the ship +Should house him safe is wracked and split, +And he, good prince, having all lost, +By waves from coast to coast is tossed. +All perishen of man, of pelf, +Ne aught escapend but himself; +Till Fortune, tired with doing bad, +Threw him ashore to give him glad. +And here he comes. What shall be next, +Pardon old Gower--this 'longs the text. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Pericles, wet.] + + +PERICLES +Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven! +Wind, rain, and thunder, remember earthly man +Is but a substance that must yield to you, +And I, as fits my nature, do obey you. +Alas, the seas hath cast me on the rocks, +Washed me from shore to shore, and left my breath +Nothing to think on but ensuing death. +Let it suffice the greatness of your powers +To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes; +And, having thrown him from your wat'ry grave, +Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave. + +[Enter three Fishermen.] + + +FIRST FISHERMAN What ho, Pilch! + +SECOND FISHERMAN Ha, come and bring away the nets! + +FIRST FISHERMAN What, Patchbreech, I say! + +THIRD FISHERMAN What say you, master? + +FIRST FISHERMAN Look how thou stirr'st now! Come +away, or I'll fetch thee with a wanion. + +THIRD FISHERMAN Faith, master, I am thinking of the +poor men that were cast away before us even now. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart +to hear what pitiful cries they made to us to help +them, when, welladay, we could scarce help +ourselves! + +THIRD FISHERMAN Nay, master, said not I as much +when I saw the porpoise how he bounced and tumbled? +They say they're half fish, half flesh. A plague +on them! They ne'er come but I look to be washed. +Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Why, as men do a-land: the great +ones eat up the little ones. I can compare our rich +misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale: he plays +and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him and +at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such +whales have I heard on a' the land, who never leave +gaping till they swallowed the whole parish-- +church, steeple, bells and all. + +PERICLES, [aside] A pretty moral. + +THIRD FISHERMAN But, master, if I had been the sexton, +I would have been that day in the belfry. + +SECOND FISHERMAN Why, man? + +THIRD FISHERMAN Because he should have swallowed +me too. And when I had been in his belly, I would +have kept such a jangling of the bells that he should +never have left till he cast bells, steeple, church, and +parish up again. But if the good King Simonides +were of my mind-- + +PERICLES, [aside] Simonides? + +THIRD FISHERMAN We would purge the land of these +drones that rob the bee of her honey. + +PERICLES, [aside] +How from the finny subject of the sea +These fishers tell the infirmities of men, +And from their wat'ry empire recollect +All that may men approve or men detect!-- +Peace be at your labor, honest fishermen. + +SECOND FISHERMAN Honest good fellow, what's that? If +it be a day fits you, search out of the calendar, and +nobody look after it! + +PERICLES +May see the sea hath cast upon your coast-- + +SECOND FISHERMAN What a drunken knave was the sea +to cast thee in our way! + +PERICLES +A man whom both the waters and the wind +In that vast tennis court hath made the ball +For them to play upon entreats you pity him. +He asks of you that never used to beg. + +FIRST FISHERMAN No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's +them in our country of Greece gets more with begging +than we can do with working. + +SECOND FISHERMAN, [to Pericles] Canst thou catch any +fishes, then? + +PERICLES I never practiced it. + +SECOND FISHERMAN Nay, then, thou wilt starve sure, +for here's nothing to be got nowadays unless thou +canst fish for 't. + +PERICLES +What I have been I have forgot to know, +But what I am want teaches me to think on: +A man thronged up with cold. My veins are chill +And have no more of life than may suffice +To give my tongue that heat to ask your help-- +Which, if you shall refuse, when I am dead, +For that I am a man, pray you see me buried. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Die, quotha? Now gods forbid 't, an I +have a gown. Here, come, put it on; keep thee +warm. [Pericles puts on the garment.] Now, afore +me, a handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, +and we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for fasting +days, and, moreo'er, puddings and flapjacks, and +thou shalt be welcome. + +PERICLES I thank you, sir. + +SECOND FISHERMAN Hark you, my friend. You said you +could not beg? + +PERICLES I did but crave. + +SECOND FISHERMAN But crave? Then I'll turn craver +too, and so I shall 'scape whipping. + +PERICLES Why, are your beggars whipped, then? + +SECOND FISHERMAN O, not all, my friend, not all; for if +all your beggars were whipped, I would wish no +better office than to be beadle.--But, master, I'll go +draw up the net. [He exits with Third Fisherman.] + +PERICLES, [aside] +How well this honest mirth becomes their labor! + +FIRST FISHERMAN Hark you, sir, do you know where +you are? + +PERICLES Not well. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Why, I'll tell you. This is called Pentapolis, +and our king the good Simonides. + +PERICLES "The good Simonides" do you call him? + +FIRST FISHERMAN Ay, sir, and he deserves so to be called +for his peaceable reign and good government. + +PERICLES He is a happy king, since he gains from his +subjects the name of "good" by his government. +How far is his court distant from this shore? + +FIRST FISHERMAN Marry, sir, half a day's journey. And +I'll tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and tomorrow +is her birthday; and there are princes and knights +come from all parts of the world to joust and tourney +for her love. + +PERICLES Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I +could wish to make one there. + +FIRST FISHERMAN O, sir, things must be as they may; +and what a man cannot get he may lawfully deal +for his wife's soul. + +[Enter the two other Fishermen, drawing up a net.] + + +SECOND FISHERMAN Help, master, help! Here's a fish +hangs in the net like a poor man's right in the law: +'twill hardly come out. Ha! Bots on 't, 'tis come at +last, and 'tis turned to a rusty armor. + +PERICLES +An armor, friends? I pray you let me see it. +[They pull out the armor.] +Thanks, Fortune, yet, that after all thy crosses +Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself; +And though it was mine own, part of my heritage +Which my dead father did bequeath to me +With this strict charge even as he left his life, +"Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield +'Twixt me and death," and pointed to this brace, +"For that it saved me, keep it. In like necessity-- +The which the gods protect thee from--may 't +defend thee." +It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it, +Till the rough seas, that spares not any man, +Took it in rage, though calmed have given 't again. +I thank thee for 't; my shipwrack now's no ill +Since I have here my father gave in his will. + +FIRST FISHERMAN What mean you, sir? + +PERICLES +To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth, +For it was sometime target to a king; +I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly, +And for his sake I wish the having of it, +And that you'd guide me to your sovereign's court, +Where with it I may appear a gentleman. +And if that ever my low fortune's better, +I'll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? + +PERICLES +I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms. + +FIRST FISHERMAN Why, do 'ee take it, and the gods give +thee good on 't. + +SECOND FISHERMAN Ay, but hark you, my friend, 'twas +we that made up this garment through the rough +seams of the waters. There are certain condolements, +certain vails. I hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll +remember from whence you had them. + +PERICLES Believe 't, I will. [He puts on the armor.] +By your furtherance I am clothed in steel, +And spite of all the rupture of the sea, +This jewel holds his biding on my arm. +Unto thy value I will mount myself +Upon a courser, whose delightful steps +Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread. +Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided +Of a pair of bases. + +SECOND FISHERMAN We'll sure provide. Thou shalt have +my best gown to make thee a pair; and I'll bring +thee to the court myself. + +PERICLES +Then honor be but a goal to my will; +This day I'll rise or else add ill to ill. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter King Simonides, with Lords, Attendants, +and Thaisa.] + + +SIMONIDES +Are the knights ready to begin the triumph? + +FIRST LORD They are, my liege, +And stay your coming to present themselves. + +SIMONIDES +Return them we are ready, and our daughter here, +In honor of whose birth these triumphs are, +Sits here like Beauty's child, whom Nature gat +For men to see and, seeing, wonder at. +[An Attendant exits.] + +THAISA +It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express +My commendations great, whose merit's less. + +SIMONIDES +It's fit it should be so, for princes are +A model which heaven makes like to itself. +As jewels lose their glory if neglected, +So princes their renowns if not respected. +'Tis now your honor, daughter, to entertain +The labor of each knight in his device. + +THAISA +Which to preserve mine honor, I'll perform. + +[The first Knight passes by. His Squire presents a shield +to Thaisa.] + + + +SIMONIDES +Who is the first that doth prefer himself? + +THAISA +A knight of Sparta, my renowned father, +And the device he bears upon his shield +Is a black Ethiop reaching at the sun; +The word: Lux tua vita mihi. + +SIMONIDES +He loves you well that holds his life of you. + +[The second Knight passes by. His Squire presents a +shield to Thaisa.] + + +Who is the second that presents himself? + +THAISA +A prince of Macedon, my royal father, +And the device he bears upon his shield +Is an armed knight that's conquered by a lady. +The motto thus, in Spanish: Pue per doleera kee per +forsa. + +[The third Knight passes by. His Squire presents a shield +to Thaisa.] + + + +SIMONIDES +And what's the third? + +THAISA The third, of Antioch; +And his device a wreath of chivalry; +The word: Me pompae provexit apex. + +[The fourth Knight passes by. His Squire presents a +shield to Thaisa.] + + + +SIMONIDES What is the fourth? + +THAISA +A burning torch that's turned upside down; +The word: Qui me alit me extinguit. + +SIMONIDES +Which shows that beauty hath his power and will, +Which can as well inflame as it can kill. + +[The fifth Knight passes by. His Squire presents a shield +to Thaisa.] + + + +THAISA +The fifth, an hand environed with clouds, +Holding out gold that's by the touchstone tried; +The motto thus: Sic spectanda fides. + +[The sixth Knight, Pericles, passes by. He presents a +shield to Thaisa.] + + + +SIMONIDES +And what's the sixth and last, the which the knight +himself +With such a graceful courtesy delivered? + +THAISA +He seems to be a stranger; but his present is +A withered branch that's only green at top, +The motto: In hac spe vivo. + +SIMONIDES A pretty moral. +From the dejected state wherein he is, +He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish. + +FIRST LORD +He had need mean better than his outward show +Can any way speak in his just commend, +For by his rusty outside he appears +To have practiced more the whipstock than the lance. + +SECOND LORD +He well may be a stranger, for he comes +To an honored triumph strangely furnished. + +THIRD LORD +And on set purpose let his armor rust +Until this day, to scour it in the dust. + +SIMONIDES +Opinion's but a fool that makes us scan +The outward habit by the inward man. +But stay, the knights are coming. +We will withdraw into the gallery. +[They exit.] + +[Great shouts offstage, and all cry, "The mean knight."] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King Simonides, Thaisa, Marshal, Ladies, +Lords, Attendants, and Knights in armor, from tilting.] + + +SIMONIDES Knights, +To say you're welcome were superfluous. +To place upon the volume of your deeds, +As in a title page, your worth in arms +Were more than you expect or more than 's fit, +Since every worth in show commends itself. +Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast. +You are princes and my guests. + +THAISA, [to Pericles] But you my knight and guest, +To whom this wreath of victory I give +And crown you king of this day's happiness. +[She places a wreath on Pericles' head.] + +PERICLES +'Tis more by fortune, lady, than my merit. + +SIMONIDES +Call it by what you will, the day is yours, +And here, I hope, is none that envies it. +In framing an artist, Art hath thus decreed, +To make some good but others to exceed, +And you are her labored scholar.--Come, queen o' +the feast, +For, daughter, so you are; here, take your place.-- +Marshal, the rest as they deserve their grace. + +KNIGHTS +We are honored much by good Simonides. + +SIMONIDES +Your presence glads our days. Honor we love, +For who hates honor hates the gods above. + +MARSHAL, [to Pericles] Sir, yonder is your place. + +PERICLES Some other is more fit. + +FIRST KNIGHT +Contend not, sir, for we are gentlemen +Have neither in our hearts nor outward eyes +Envies the great, nor shall the low despise. + +PERICLES +You are right courteous knights. + +SIMONIDES Sit, sir, sit. [They sit.] +[Aside.] By Jove I wonder, that is king of thoughts, +These cates resist me, he not thought upon. + +THAISA, [aside] +By Juno, that is queen of marriage, +All viands that I eat do seem unsavory, +Wishing him my meat.--Sure, he's a gallant +gentleman. + +SIMONIDES +He's but a country gentleman; +Has done no more than other knights have done; +Has broken a staff or so. So let it pass. + +THAISA, [aside] +To me he seems like diamond to glass. + +PERICLES, [aside] +Yon king's to me like to my father's picture, +Which tells in that glory once he was-- +Had princes sit like stars about his throne, +And he the sun for them to reverence. +None that beheld him but like lesser lights +Did vail their crowns to his supremacy; +Where now his son's like a glowworm in the night, +The which hath fire in darkness, none in light; +Whereby I see that Time's the king of men. +He's both their parent, and he is their grave, +And gives them what he will, not what they crave. + +SIMONIDES What, are you merry, knights? + +KNIGHTS +Who can be other in this royal presence? + +SIMONIDES +Here, with a cup that's stored unto the brim, +As do you love, fill to your mistress' lips. +We drink this health to you. [He drinks.] + +KNIGHTS We thank your Grace. + +SIMONIDES +Yet pause awhile. Yon knight doth sit too melancholy, +As if the entertainment in our court +Had not a show might countervail his worth.-- +Note it not you, Thaisa? + +THAISA What is 't to me, my father? + +SIMONIDES +O, attend, my daughter. Princes in this +Should live like gods above, who freely give +To everyone that come to honor them. +And princes not doing so are like to gnats, +Which make a sound but, killed, are wondered at. +Therefore, to make his entrance more sweet, +Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to him. +[He drinks.] + +THAISA +Alas, my father, it befits not me +Unto a stranger knight to be so bold. +He may my proffer take for an offense, +Since men take women's gifts for impudence. + +SIMONIDES How? +Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else. + +THAISA, [aside] +Now, by the gods, he could not please me better. + +SIMONIDES +And furthermore tell him we desire to know of him +Of whence he is, his name and parentage. + +THAISA, [going to Pericles] +The King, my father, sir, has drunk to you. + +PERICLES I thank him. + +THAISA +Wishing it so much blood unto your life. + +PERICLES +I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely. +[He drinks to Simonides.] + +THAISA +And further, he desires to know of you +Of whence you are, your name and parentage. + +PERICLES +A gentleman of Tyre, my name Pericles. +My education been in arts and arms, +Who, looking for adventures in the world, +Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men, +And after shipwrack driven upon this shore. + +THAISA, [returning to her place] +He thanks your Grace; names himself Pericles, +A gentleman of Tyre, +Who only by misfortune of the seas, +Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore. + +SIMONIDES +Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune, +And will awake him from his melancholy.-- +Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles +And waste the time which looks for other revels. +Even in your armors, as you are addressed, +Will well become a soldiers' dance. +I will not have excuse with saying this: +"Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads," +Since they love men in arms as well as beds. +[They dance.] +So, this was well asked, 'twas so well performed. +Come, sir. [He presents Pericles to Thaisa.] +Here's a lady that wants breathing too, +And I have heard you knights of Tyre +Are excellent in making ladies trip, +And that their measures are as excellent. + +PERICLES +In those that practice them they are, my lord. + +SIMONIDES +O, that's as much as you would be denied +Of your fair courtesy. [They dance.] +Unclasp, unclasp! +Thanks, gentlemen, to all; all have done well; +[To Pericles.] But you the best.--Pages and lights, to +conduct +These knights unto their several lodgings. [To +Pericles.] Yours, sir, +We have given order be next our own. + +PERICLES I am at your Grace's pleasure. + +SIMONIDES +Princes, it is too late to talk of love, +And that's the mark I know you level at. +Therefore each one betake him to his rest, +Tomorrow all for speeding do their best. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Helicanus and Escanes.] + + +HELICANUS +No, Escanes, know this of me: +Antiochus from incest lived not free, +For which the most high gods not minding longer +To withhold the vengeance that they had in store +Due to this heinous capital offense, +Even in the height and pride of all his glory, +When he was seated in a chariot of +An inestimable value, and his daughter with him, +A fire from heaven came and shriveled up +Those bodies even to loathing, for they so stunk +That all those eyes adored them, ere their fall, +Scorn now their hand should give them burial. + +ESCANES 'Twas very strange. + +HELICANUS +And yet but justice; for though this king were great, +His greatness was no guard to bar heaven's shaft, +But sin had his reward. + +ESCANES 'Tis very true. + +[Enter two or three Lords.] + + +FIRST LORD +See, not a man in private conference +Or counsel has respect with him but he. + +SECOND LORD +It shall no longer grieve without reproof. + +THIRD LORD +And cursed be he that will not second it. + +FIRST LORD +Follow me, then.--Lord Helicane, a word. + +HELICANUS +With me? And welcome. Happy day, my lords. + +FIRST LORD +Know that our griefs are risen to the top, +And now at length they overflow their banks. + +HELICANUS +Your griefs? For what? Wrong not your prince you +love. + +FIRST LORD +Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane. +But if the Prince do live, let us salute him, +Or know what ground's made happy by his breath. +If in the world he live, we'll seek him out; +If in his grave he rest, we'll find him there, +And be resolved he lives to govern us, +Or dead, give 's cause to mourn his funeral +And leave us to our free election. + +SECOND LORD +Whose death's indeed the strongest in our censure; +And knowing this kingdom is without a head-- +Like goodly buildings left without a roof +Soon fall to ruin--your noble self, +That best know how to rule and how to reign, +We thus submit unto, our sovereign. + +ALL Live, noble Helicane! + +HELICANUS +Try honor's cause; forbear your suffrages. +If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear. +Take I your wish, I leap into the seas, +Where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease. +A twelve-month longer let me entreat you +To forbear the absence of your king; +If in which time expired, he not return, +I shall with aged patience bear your yoke. +But if I cannot win you to this love, +Go search like nobles, like noble subjects, +And in your search spend your adventurous worth, +Whom if you find and win unto return, +You shall like diamonds sit about his crown. + +FIRST LORD +To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield. +And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us, +We with our travels will endeavor. + +HELICANUS +Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands. +When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter the King, Simonides, reading of a letter at one +door; the Knights meet him.] + + +FIRST KNIGHT +Good morrow to the good Simonides. + +SIMONIDES +Knights, from my daughter this I let you know, +That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertake +A married life. Her reason to herself is only known, +Which from her by no means can I get. + +SECOND KNIGHT +May we not get access to her, my lord? + +SIMONIDES +Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly tied her +To her chamber that 'tis impossible. +One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery. +This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vowed, +And on her virgin honor will not break it. + +THIRD KNIGHT +Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves. +[The Knights exit.] + +SIMONIDES So, +They are well dispatched. Now to my daughter's letter. +She tells me here she'll wed the stranger knight +Or never more to view nor day nor light. +'Tis well, mistress, your choice agrees with mine. +I like that well. Nay, how absolute she's in 't, +Not minding whether I dislike or no! +Well, I do commend her choice, and will no longer +Have it be delayed. Soft, here he comes. +I must dissemble it. + +[Enter Pericles.] + + +PERICLES +All fortune to the good Simonides. + +SIMONIDES +To you as much. Sir, I am beholding to you +For your sweet music this last night. I do +Protest, my ears were never better fed +With such delightful pleasing harmony. + +PERICLES +It is your Grace's pleasure to commend, +Not my desert. + +SIMONIDES Sir, you are music's master. + +PERICLES +The worst of all her scholars, my good lord. + +SIMONIDES Let me ask you one thing: +What do you think of my daughter, sir? + +PERICLES A most virtuous princess. + +SIMONIDES And she is fair too, is she not? + +PERICLES +As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair. + +SIMONIDES +Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you, +Ay, so well that you must be her master, +And she will be your scholar. Therefore, look to it. + +PERICLES +I am unworthy for her schoolmaster. + +SIMONIDES +She thinks not so. Peruse this writing else. + +PERICLES, [aside] What's here? +A letter that she loves the knight of Tyre? +'Tis the King's subtlety to have my life.-- +O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord, +A stranger and distressed gentleman +That never aimed so high to love your daughter, +But bent all offices to honor her. + +SIMONIDES +Thou hast bewitched my daughter, and thou art +A villain. + +PERICLES By the gods, I have not! +Never did thought of mine levy offense; +Nor never did my actions yet commence +A deed might gain her love or your displeasure. + +SIMONIDES +Traitor, thou liest! + +PERICLES Traitor? + +SIMONIDES Ay, traitor. + +PERICLES +Even in his throat, unless it be the King +That calls me traitor, I return the lie. + +SIMONIDES, [aside] +Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage. + +PERICLES +My actions are as noble as my thoughts, +That never relished of a base descent. +I came unto your court for honor's cause, +And not to be a rebel to her state, +And he that otherwise accounts of me, +This sword shall prove he's honor's enemy. + +SIMONIDES No? +Here comes my daughter. She can witness it. + +[Enter Thaisa.] + + +PERICLES +Then as you are as virtuous as fair, +Resolve your angry father if my tongue +Did e'er solicit or my hand subscribe +To any syllable that made love to you. + +THAISA +Why, sir, say if you had, who takes offense +At that would make me glad? + +SIMONIDES +Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory? +[(Aside.)] I am glad on 't with all my heart.-- +I'll tame you! I'll bring you in subjection. +Will you, not having my consent, +Bestow your love and your affections +Upon a stranger? [(Aside.)] Who, for aught I know, +May be--nor can I think the contrary-- +As great in blood as I myself.-- +Therefore, hear you, mistress: either frame +Your will to mine--and you, sir, hear you: +Either be ruled by me--or I'll make you +Man and wife. +Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too. +And being joined, I'll thus your hopes destroy. +And for further grief--God give you joy! +What, are you both pleased? + +THAISA Yes, [(to Pericles)] if you love me, sir. + +PERICLES +Even as my life my blood that fosters it. + +SIMONIDES What, are you both agreed? + +BOTH Yes, if 't please your Majesty. + +SIMONIDES +It pleaseth me so well that I will see you wed, +And then with what haste you can, get you to bed. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +3 Chorus +======== +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Now sleep yslacked hath the rout; +No din but snores about the house, +Made louder by the o'erfed breast +Of this most pompous marriage feast. +The cat with eyne of burning coal +Now couches from the mouse's hole, +And crickets sing at the oven's mouth +Are the blither for their drouth. +Hymen hath brought the bride to bed, +Where, by the loss of maidenhead, +A babe is molded. Be attent, +And time that is so briefly spent +With your fine fancies quaintly eche. +What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech. + +[Dumb Show. + +Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door with +Attendants. A Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives +Pericles a letter. Pericles shows it Simonides. The Lords +kneel to him; then enter Thaisa with child, with +Lychorida, a nurse. The King shows her the letter. She +rejoices. She and Pericles take leave of her father, and +depart with Lychorida and their Attendants. Then +Simonides and the others exit. +] + + +By many a dern and painful perch +Of Pericles the careful search, +By the four opposing coigns +Which the world together joins, +Is made with all due diligence +That horse and sail and high expense +Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre, +Fame answering the most strange enquire, +To th' court of King Simonides +Are letters brought, the tenor these: +Antiochus and his daughter dead, +The men of Tyrus on the head +Of Helicanus would set on +The crown of Tyre, but he will none. +The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress, +Says to 'em, if King Pericles +Come not home in twice six moons, +He, obedient to their dooms, +Will take the crown. The sum of this, +Brought hither to Pentapolis, +Y-ravished the regions round, +And everyone with claps can sound, +"Our heir apparent is a king! +Who dreamt, who thought of such a thing?" +Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre. +His queen, with child, makes her desire-- +Which who shall cross?--along to go. +Omit we all their dole and woe. +Lychorida, her nurse, she takes, +And so to sea. Their vessel shakes +On Neptune's billow. Half the flood +Hath their keel cut. But Fortune, moved, +Varies again. The grizzled North +Disgorges such a tempest forth +That, as a duck for life that dives, +So up and down the poor ship drives. +The lady shrieks and, well-anear, +Does fall in travail with her fear. +And what ensues in this fell storm +Shall for itself itself perform. +I nill relate; action may +Conveniently the rest convey, +Which might not what by me is told. +In your imagination hold +This stage the ship upon whose deck +The sea-tossed Pericles appears to speak. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Pericles, a-shipboard.] + + +PERICLES +The god of this great vast, rebuke these surges, +Which wash both heaven and hell! And thou that hast +Upon the winds command, bind them in brass, +Having called them from the deep! O, still +Thy deaf'ning dreadful thunders, gently quench +Thy nimble sulfurous flashes.--O, how, Lychorida, +How does my queen?--Then, storm, venomously +Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle +Is as a whisper in the ears of death, +Unheard.--Lychorida!--Lucina, O +Divinest patroness and midwife gentle +To those that cry by night, convey thy deity +Aboard our dancing boat, make swift the pangs +Of my queen's travails!--Now, Lychorida! + +[Enter Lychorida, carrying an infant.] + + +LYCHORIDA +Here is a thing too young for such a place, +Who, if it had conceit, would die, as I +Am like to do. Take in your arms this piece +Of your dead queen. + +PERICLES How? How, Lychorida? + +LYCHORIDA +Patience, good sir. Do not assist the storm. +Here's all that is left living of your queen, +A little daughter. For the sake of it, +Be manly and take comfort. + +PERICLES O you gods! +Why do you make us love your goodly gifts +And snatch them straight away? We here below +Recall not what we give, and therein may +Use honor with you. + +LYCHORIDA Patience, good sir, +Even for this charge. [She hands him the infant.] + +PERICLES, [to the infant] Now mild may be thy life, +For a more blusterous birth had never babe. +Quiet and gentle thy conditions, for +Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world +That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows! +Thou hast as chiding a nativity +As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make +To herald thee from the womb. +Even at the first, thy loss is more than can +Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here. +Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon 't. + +[Enter two Sailors.] + + +FIRST SAILOR What courage, sir? God save you. + +PERICLES +Courage enough. I do not fear the flaw. +It hath done to me the worst. Yet for the love +Of this poor infant, this fresh new seafarer, +I would it would be quiet. + +FIRST SAILOR Slack the bowlines there!--Thou wilt not, +wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself! + +SECOND SAILOR But searoom, an the brine and cloudy +billow kiss the moon, I care not. + +FIRST SAILOR Sir, your queen must overboard. The sea +works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till +the ship be cleared of the dead. + +PERICLES That's your superstition. + +FIRST SAILOR Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been +still observed, and we are strong in custom. +Therefore briefly yield 'er, for she must overboard +straight. + +PERICLES As you think meet.--Most wretched queen! + +LYCHORIDA Here she lies, sir. + +PERICLES +A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear, +No light, no fire. Th' unfriendly elements +Forgot thee utterly. Nor have I time +To give thee hallowed to thy grave, but straight +Must cast thee, scarcely coffined, in the ooze, +Where, for a monument upon thy bones +And e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale +And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse, +Lying with simple shells.--O, Lychorida, +Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, +My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander +Bring me the satin coffin. Lay the babe +Upon the pillow. Hie thee, whiles I say +A priestly farewell to her. Suddenly, woman! +[Lychorida exits.] + +SECOND SAILOR Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, +caulked and bitumed ready. + +PERICLES +I thank thee, mariner. Say, what coast is this? + +SECOND SAILOR We are near Tarsus. + +PERICLES Thither, gentle mariner. +Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it? + +SECOND SAILOR By break of day if the wind cease. + +PERICLES O, make for Tarsus! +There will I visit Cleon, for the babe +Cannot hold out to Tyrus. There I'll leave it +At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner. +I'll bring the body presently. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lord Cerimon with two Suppliants.] + + +CERIMON Philemon, ho! + +[Enter Philemon.] + + +PHILEMON Doth my lord call? + +CERIMON Get fire and meat for these poor men. +'T has been a turbulent and stormy night. +[Philemon exits.] + +FIRST SUPPLIANT +I have been in many; but such a night as this, +Till now, I ne'er endured. + +CERIMON +Your master will be dead ere you return. +There's nothing can be ministered to nature +That can recover him. [To Second Suppliant.] Give +this to the 'pothecary, +And tell me how it works. [Suppliants exit.] + +[Enter two Gentlemen.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Good morrow. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Good morrow to your Lordship. + +CERIMON +Gentlemen, why do you stir so early? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Sir, +Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, +Shook as the earth did quake. +The very principals did seem to rend +And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear +Made me to quit the house. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +That is the cause we trouble you so early. +'Tis not our husbandry. + +CERIMON O, you say well. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN +But I much marvel that your Lordship, having +Rich tire about you, should at these early hours +Shake off the golden slumber of repose. +'Tis most strange +Nature should be so conversant with pain, +Being thereto not compelled. + +CERIMON I hold it ever +Virtue and cunning were endowments greater +Than nobleness and riches. Careless heirs +May the two latter darken and expend, +But immortality attends the former, +Making a man a god. 'Tis known I ever +Have studied physic, through which secret art, +By turning o'er authorities, I have, +Together with my practice, made familiar +To me and to my aid the blessed infusions +That dwells in vegetives, in metals, stones; +And can speak of the disturbances +That Nature works, and of her cures; which doth +give me +A more content in course of true delight +Than to be thirsty after tottering honor, +Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags +To please the fool and death. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Your Honor has through Ephesus poured forth +Your charity, and hundreds call themselves +Your creatures, who by you have been restored; +And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even +Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon +Such strong renown, as time shall never-- + +[Enter two or three Servants with a chest.] + + +SERVANT +So, lift there. + +CERIMON What's that? + +SERVANT Sir, even now +Did the sea toss up upon our shore this chest. +'Tis of some wrack. + +CERIMON Set 't down. Let's look upon 't. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +'Tis like a coffin, sir. + +CERIMON What e'er it be, +'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight. +If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold, +'Tis a good constraint of Fortune it belches upon us. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +'Tis so, my lord. + +CERIMON How close 'tis caulked and bitumed! +Did the sea cast it up? + +SERVANT +I never saw so huge a billow, sir, +As tossed it upon shore. + +CERIMON Wrench it open. +Soft! It smells most sweetly in my sense. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN A delicate odor. + +CERIMON +As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. +[They open the chest.] +O, you most potent gods! What's here? A corse? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Most strange! + +CERIMON +Shrouded in cloth of state, balmed and entreasured +With full bags of spices. A passport too! +Apollo, perfect me in the characters. +[He reads.] + Here I give to understand, + If e'er this coffin drives aland, + I, King Pericles, have lost + This queen, worth all our mundane cost. + Who finds her, give her burying. + She was the daughter of a king. + Besides this treasure for a fee, + The gods requite his charity. +If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart +That ever cracks for woe. This chanced tonight. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN +Most likely, sir. + +CERIMON Nay, certainly tonight, +For look how fresh she looks. They were too rough +That threw her in the sea.--Make a fire within; +Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet. +[A servant exits.] +Death may usurp on nature many hours, +And yet the fire of life kindle again +The o'erpressed spirits. I heard of an Egyptian +That had nine hours lain dead, +Who was by good appliance recovered. + +[Enter one with boxes, napkins, and fire.] + +Well said, well said! The fire and cloths. +The rough and woeful music that we have, +Cause it to sound, beseech you. [Music sounds.] The +viol once more! +How thou stirr'st, thou block! The music there. +[Music sounds.] +I pray you, give her air. Gentlemen, +This queen will live. Nature awakes a warm breath +Out of her. She hath not been entranced +Above five hours. See how she gins to blow +Into life's flower again. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN The heavens, through you, +Increase our wonder, and sets up your fame +Forever. + +CERIMON She is alive. Behold her eyelids-- +Cases to those heavenly jewels which Pericles hath +lost-- +Begin to part their fringes of bright gold. +The diamonds of a most praised water doth +Appear to make the world twice rich.--Live, +And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature, +Rare as you seem to be. +[She moves.] + +THAISA O dear Diana, +Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Is not this strange? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Most rare! + +CERIMON Hush, my gentle neighbors! +Lend me your hands. To the next chamber bear her. +Get linen. Now this matter must be looked to, +For her relapse is mortal. Come, come; +And Aesculapius guide us. +[They carry her away as they all exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Pericles, at Tarsus, with Cleon and Dionyza, and +Lychorida with the child.] + + +PERICLES +Most honored Cleon, I must needs be gone. +My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands +In a litigious peace. You and your lady +Take from my heart all thankfulness. The gods +Make up the rest upon you. + +CLEON +Your shakes of fortune, though they haunt you +mortally, +Yet glance full wond'ringly on us. + +DIONYZA +O, your sweet queen! That the strict Fates had pleased +You had brought her hither to have blessed mine +eyes with her! + +PERICLES +We cannot but obey the powers above us. +Could I rage and roar as doth the sea +She lies in, yet the end must be as 'tis. +My gentle babe Marina, +Whom, for she was born at sea, I have named so, +Here I charge your charity withal, +Leaving her the infant of your care, +Beseeching you to give her princely training, +That she may be mannered as she is born. + +CLEON Fear not, my lord, but think +Your Grace, that fed my country with your corn, +For which the people's prayers still fall upon you, +Must in your child be thought on. If neglection +Should therein make me vile, the common body, +By you relieved, would force me to my duty. +But if to that my nature need a spur, +The gods revenge it upon me and mine, +To the end of generation! + +PERICLES I believe you. +Your honor and your goodness teach me to 't +Without your vows.--Till she be married, madam, +By bright Diana, whom we honor, all +Unscissored shall this hair of mine remain, +Though I show ill in 't. So I take my leave. +Good madam, make me blessed in your care +In bringing up my child. + +DIONYZA I have one myself, +Who shall not be more dear to my respect +Than yours, my lord. + +PERICLES Madam, my thanks and prayers. + +CLEON +We'll bring your Grace e'en to the edge o' th' shore, +Then give you up to the masked Neptune +And the gentlest winds of heaven. + +PERICLES +I will embrace your offer.--Come, dearest madam.-- +O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears! +Look to your little mistress, on whose grace +You may depend hereafter.--Come, my lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.] + + +CERIMON +Madam, this letter and some certain jewels +Lay with you in your coffer, which are +At your command. Know you the character? +[He shows her the letter.] + +THAISA +It is my lord's. That I was shipped at sea +I well remember, even on my bearing time, +But whether there delivered, by the holy gods +I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles, +My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again, +A vestal livery will I take me to, +And never more have joy. + +CERIMON Madam, if this +You purpose as you speak, Diana's temple +Is not distant far, where you may abide +Till your date expire. Moreover, if you +Please, a niece of mine shall there attend you. + +THAISA +My recompense is thanks, that's all; +Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +4 Chorus +======== +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre, +Welcomed and settled to his own desire. +His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, +Unto Diana there 's a votaress. +Now to Marina bend your mind, +Whom our fast-growing scene must find +At Tarsus, and by Cleon trained +In music, letters; who hath gained +Of education all the grace +Which makes high both the art and place +Of general wonder. But, alack, +That monster envy, oft the wrack +Of earned praise, Marina's life +Seeks to take off by treason's knife. +And in this kind our Cleon hath +One daughter and a full grown wench, +Even ripe for marriage rite. This maid +Hight Philoten, and it is said +For certain in our story she +Would ever with Marina be. +Be 't when they weaved the sleided silk +With fingers long, small, white as milk; +Or when she would with sharp needle wound +The cambric, which she made more sound +By hurting it; or when to the lute +She sung, and made the night bird mute, +That still records with moan; or when +She would with rich and constant pen +Vail to her mistress Dian, still +This Philoten contends in skill +With absolute Marina. So +With the dove of Paphos might the crow +Vie feathers white. Marina gets +All praises, which are paid as debts +And not as given. This so darks +In Philoten all graceful marks +That Cleon's wife, with envy rare, +A present murderer does prepare +For good Marina, that her daughter +Might stand peerless by this slaughter. +The sooner her vile thoughts to stead, +Lychorida, our nurse, is dead, +And cursed Dionyza hath +The pregnant instrument of wrath +Prest for this blow. The unborn event +I do commend to your content. +Only I carry winged Time +Post on the lame feet of my rhyme, +Which never could I so convey +Unless your thoughts went on my way. +Dionyza does appear, +With Leonine, a murderer. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Dionyza with Leonine.] + + +DIONYZA +Thy oath remember. Thou hast sworn to do 't. +'Tis but a blow which never shall be known. +Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon +To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, +Which is but cold in flaming, thy bosom inflame +Too nicely. Nor let pity, which even women +Have cast off, melt thee; but be a soldier +To thy purpose. + +LEONINE I will do 't; but yet +She is a goodly creature. + +DIONYZA The fitter, then, +The gods should have her. Here she comes weeping +For her only mistress' death. Thou art resolved? + +LEONINE I am resolved. + +[Enter Marina with a basket of flowers.] + + +MARINA +No, I will rob Tellus of her weed +To strew thy green with flowers. The yellows, blues, +The purple violets and marigolds +Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave +While summer days doth last. Ay me, poor maid, +Born in a tempest when my mother died, +This world to me is as a lasting storm, +Whirring me from my friends. + +DIONYZA +How now, Marina? Why do you keep alone? +How chance my daughter is not with you? +Do not consume your blood with sorrowing. +Have you a nurse of me! Lord, how your favor 's +Changed with this unprofitable woe. +Come, give me your flowers. O'er the sea marge +Walk with Leonine. The air is quick there, +And it pierces and sharpens the stomach.--Come, +Leonine, +Take her by the arm. Walk with her. + +MARINA No, +I pray you, I'll not bereave you of your servant. + +DIONYZA Come, come. +I love the king your father and yourself +With more than foreign heart. We every day +Expect him here. When he shall come and find +Our paragon to all reports thus blasted, +He will repent the breadth of his great voyage, +Blame both my lord and me that we have taken +No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you, +Walk, and be cheerful once again. Reserve +That excellent complexion, which did steal +The eyes of young and old. Care not for me. +I can go home alone. + +MARINA Well, I will go, +But yet I have no desire to it. + +DIONYZA Come, come, +I know 'tis good for you.--Walk half an hour, +Leonine, at the least. Remember +What I have said. + +LEONINE I warrant you, madam. + +DIONYZA +I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while. +Pray walk softly; do not heat your blood. +What, I must have care of you. + +MARINA My thanks, sweet madam. [Dionyza exits.] +Is this wind westerly that blows? + +LEONINE Southwest. + +MARINA +When I was born, the wind was north. + +LEONINE Was 't so? + +MARINA +My father, as nurse says, did never fear, +But cried "Good seamen!" to the sailors, +Galling his kingly hands haling ropes, +And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea +That almost burst the deck. + +LEONINE When was this? + +MARINA When I was born. +Never was waves nor wind more violent, +And from the ladder-tackle washes off +A canvas-climber. "Ha!" says one, "Wolt out?" +And with a dropping industry they skip +From stern to stern. The Boatswain whistles, and +The Master calls and trebles their confusion. + +LEONINE Come, say your prayers. +[He draws his sword.] + +MARINA What mean you? + +LEONINE +If you require a little space for prayer, +I grant it. Pray, but be not tedious, for +The gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn +To do my work with haste. + +MARINA Why will you kill me? + +LEONINE To satisfy my lady. + +MARINA Why would she have me killed? +Now, as I can remember, by my troth, +I never did her hurt in all my life. +I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn +To any living creature. Believe me, la, +I never killed a mouse, nor hurt a fly. +I trod upon a worm against my will, +But I wept for 't. How have I offended +Wherein my death might yield her any profit +Or my life imply her any danger? + +LEONINE My commission +Is not to reason of the deed, but do 't. + +MARINA +You will not do 't for all the world, I hope. +You are well-favored, and your looks foreshow +You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately +When you caught hurt in parting two that fought. +Good sooth, it showed well in you. Do so now. +Your lady seeks my life. Come you between, +And save poor me, the weaker. + +LEONINE I am sworn +And will dispatch. [He seizes her.] + +[Enter Pirates.] + + +FIRST PIRATE Hold, villain! [Leonine runs offstage.] + +SECOND PIRATE A prize, a prize! [He seizes Marina.] + +THIRD PIRATE Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's +have her aboard suddenly. +[They exit, carrying Marina.] + +[Enter Leonine.] + + +LEONINE +These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes, +And they have seized Marina. Let her go. +There's no hope she will return. I'll swear she's dead, +And thrown into the sea. But I'll see further. +Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, +Not carry her aboard. If she remain, +Whom they have ravished must by me be slain. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Pander, Bawd, and Bolt.] + + +PANDER Bolt! + +BOLT Sir? + +PANDER Search the market narrowly. Mytilene is full +of gallants. We lost too much money this mart by +being too wenchless. + +BAWD We were never so much out of creatures. We +have but poor three, and they can do no more than +they can do; and they with continual action are +even as good as rotten. + +PANDER Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we +pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be +used in every trade, we shall never prosper. + +BAWD Thou sayst true. 'Tis not our bringing up of poor +bastards--as I think I have brought up some +eleven-- + +BOLT Ay, to eleven, and brought them down again. But +shall I search the market? + +BAWD What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong +wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully +sodden. + +PANDER Thou sayst true. There's two unwholesome, a' +conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead that +lay with the little baggage. + +BOLT Ay, she quickly pooped him. She made him +roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the +market. [He exits.] + +PANDER Three or four thousand chequins were as +pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over. + +BAWD Why to give over, I pray you? Is it a shame to get +when we are old? + +PANDER O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, +nor the commodity wages not with the danger. +Therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some +pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door +hatched. Besides, the sore terms we stand upon +with the gods will be strong with us for giving o'er. + +BAWD Come, other sorts offend as well as we. + +PANDER As well as we? Ay, and better too; we offend +worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no +calling. But here comes Bolt. + +[Enter Bolt with the Pirates and Marina.] + + +BOLT Come your ways, my masters. You say she's a +virgin? + +PIRATE O, sir, we doubt it not. + +BOLT Master, I have gone through for this piece you +see. If you like her, so; if not, I have lost my +earnest. + +BAWD Bolt, has she any qualities? + +BOLT She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent +good clothes. There's no farther necessity of +qualities can make her be refused. + +BAWD What's her price, Bolt? + +BOLT I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces. + +PANDER Well, follow me, my masters; you shall have +your money presently.--Wife, take her in. Instruct +her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in +her entertainment. [He exits with Pirates.] + +BAWD Bolt, take you the marks of her: the color of her +hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant of +her virginity, and cry "He that will give most shall +have her first." Such a maidenhead were no cheap +thing, if men were as they have been. Get this done +as I command you. + +BOLT Performance shall follow. [He exits.] + +MARINA +Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow! +He should have struck, not spoke. Or that these +pirates, +Not enough barbarous, had but o'erboard thrown me +For to seek my mother. + +BAWD Why lament you, pretty one? + +MARINA That I am pretty. + +BAWD Come, the gods have done their part in you. + +MARINA I accuse them not. + +BAWD You are light into my hands, where you are like +to live. + +MARINA The more my fault, to 'scape his hands where +I was to die. + +BAWD Ay, and you shall live in pleasure. + +MARINA No. + +BAWD Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all +fashions. You shall fare well; you shall have the +difference of all complexions. What, do you stop +your ears? + +MARINA Are you a woman? + +BAWD What would you have me be, an I be not a +woman? + +MARINA An honest woman, or not a woman. + +BAWD Marry, whip the gosling! I think I shall have +something to do with you. Come, you're a young +foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would +have you. + +MARINA The gods defend me! + +BAWD If it please the gods to defend you by men, then +men must comfort you, men must feed you, men +stir you up. Bolt's returned. + +[Enter Bolt.] + +Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market? + +BOLT I have cried her almost to the number of her +hairs. I have drawn her picture with my voice. + +BAWD And I prithee tell me, how dost thou find the inclination +of the people, especially of the younger +sort? + +BOLT Faith, they listened to me as they would have +hearkened to their father's testament. There was a +Spaniard's mouth watered an he went to bed to her +very description. + +BAWD We shall have him here tomorrow with his best +ruff on. + +BOLT Tonight, tonight! But, mistress, do you know the +French knight that cowers i' the hams? + +BAWD Who? Monsieur Verolles? + +BOLT Ay, he. He offered to cut a caper at the proclamation, +but he made a groan at it and swore he would +see her tomorrow. + +BAWD Well, well, as for him, he brought his disease +hither; here he does but repair it. I know he will +come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the +sun. + +BOLT Well, if we had of every nation a traveler, we +should lodge them with this sign. + +BAWD, [to Marina] Pray you, come hither awhile. You +have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you +must seem to do that fearfully which you commit +willingly, despise profit where you have most gain. +To weep that you live as you do makes pity in your +lovers. Seldom but that pity begets you a good +opinion, and that opinion a mere profit. + +MARINA I understand you not. + +BOLT O, take her home, mistress, take her home! +These blushes of hers must be quenched with +some present practice. + +BAWD Thou sayst true, i' faith, so they must, for your +bride goes to that with shame which is her way to +go with warrant. + +BOLT Faith, some do and some do not. But, mistress, +if I have bargained for the joint-- + +BAWD Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit. + +BOLT I may so. + +BAWD Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like +the manner of your garments well. + +BOLT Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet. + +BAWD Bolt, spend thou that in the town. [(She gives him +money.)] Report what a sojourner we have. You'll +lose nothing by custom. When Nature framed this +piece, she meant thee a good turn. Therefore say +what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest +out of thine own report. + +BOLT I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so +awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty +stirs up the lewdly inclined. I'll bring home some +tonight. + +BAWD, [to Marina] Come your ways. Follow me. + +MARINA +If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, +Untied I still my virgin knot will keep. +Diana aid my purpose! + +BAWD What have we to do with Diana, pray you? Will +you go with us? +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cleon and Dionyza.] + + +DIONYZA +Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone? + +CLEON +O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter +The sun and moon ne'er looked upon! + +DIONYZA I think you'll turn a child again. + +CLEON +Were I chief lord of all this spacious world, +I'd give it to undo the deed. A lady +Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess +To equal any single crown o' th' Earth +I' the justice of compare. O villain Leonine, +Whom thou hast poisoned too! +If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness +Becoming well thy face. What canst thou say +When noble Pericles shall demand his child? + +DIONYZA +That she is dead. Nurses are not the Fates. +To foster is not ever to preserve. +She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it +Unless you play the impious innocent +And, for an honest attribute, cry out +"She died by foul play!" + +CLEON O, go to. Well, well, +Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods +Do like this worst. + +DIONYZA Be one of those that thinks +The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence +And open this to Pericles. I do shame +To think of what a noble strain you are, +And of how coward a spirit. + +CLEON To such proceeding +Whoever but his approbation added, +Though not his prime consent, he did not flow +From honorable courses. + +DIONYZA Be it so, then. +Yet none does know but you how she came dead, +Nor none can know, Leonine being gone. +She did distain my child and stood between +Her and her fortunes. None would look on her, +But cast their gazes on Marina's face, +Whilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin +Not worth the time of day. It pierced me through, +And though you call my course unnatural, +You not your child well loving, yet I find +It greets me as an enterprise of kindness +Performed to your sole daughter. + +CLEON Heavens forgive it. + +DIONYZA And as for Pericles, +What should he say? We wept after her hearse, +And yet we mourn. Her monument is +Almost finished, and her epitaphs +In glitt'ring golden characters express +A general praise to her, and care in us +At whose expense 'tis done. + +CLEON Thou art like the Harpy, +Which, to betray, dost with thine angel's face +Seize with thine eagle's talons. + +DIONYZA +You're like one that superstitiously +Do swear to the gods that winter kills the flies. +But yet I know you'll do as I advise. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Thus time we waste, and long leagues make short, +Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for 't, +Making to take our imagination +From bourn to bourn, region to region. +By you being pardoned, we commit no crime +To use one language in each several clime +Where our scenes seems to live. I do beseech you +To learn of me, who stand in the gaps to teach you +The stages of our story. Pericles +Is now again thwarting the wayward seas, +Attended on by many a lord and knight, +To see his daughter, all his life's delight. +Old Helicanus goes along. Behind +Is left to govern it, you bear in mind, +Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late +Advanced in time to great and high estate. +Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought +This king to Tarsus--think his pilot thought; +So with his steerage shall your thoughts go on-- +To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone. +Like motes and shadows see them move awhile; +Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile. + +[Dumb Show. + +Enter Pericles at one door, with all his train, Cleon and +Dionyza at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb, +whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, +and in a mighty passion departs. Cleon and Dionyza exit.] + + +See how belief may suffer by foul show! +This borrowed passion stands for true old woe. +And Pericles, in sorrow all devoured, +With sighs shot through and biggest tears +o'ershowered, +Leaves Tarsus and again embarks. He swears +Never to wash his face nor cut his hairs. +He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears +A tempest which his mortal vessel tears, +And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit +The epitaph is for Marina writ +By wicked Dionyza: + + The fairest, sweetest, and best lies here, + Who withered in her spring of year. + She was of Tyrus, the King's daughter, + On whom foul death hath made this slaughter. + Marina was she called, and at her birth, + Thetis, being proud, swallowed some part o' th' earth. + Therefore the Earth, fearing to be o'erflowed, + Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestowed. + Wherefore she does--and swears she'll never stint-- + Make raging battery upon shores of flint. + +No visor does become black villainy +So well as soft and tender flattery. +Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead, +And bear his courses to be ordered +By Lady Fortune, while our scene must play +His daughter's woe and heavy welladay +In her unholy service. Patience, then, +And think you now are all in Mytilene. [He exits.] +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter two Gentlemen.] + + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Did you ever hear the like? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN No, nor never shall do in such a +place as this, she being once gone. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN But to have divinity preached there! +Did you ever dream of such a thing? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN No, no. Come, I am for no more +bawdy houses. Shall 's go hear the vestals sing? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I'll do anything now that is virtuous, +but I am out of the road of rutting forever. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Bawd, Pander, and Bolt.] + + +PANDER Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her +she had ne'er come here. + +BAWD Fie, fie upon her! She's able to freeze the god +Priapus and undo a whole generation. We must +either get her ravished or be rid of her. When she +should do for clients her fitment and do me the +kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks, +her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her +knees, that she would make a puritan of the devil if +he should cheapen a kiss of her. + +BOLT Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us of +all our cavalleria, and make our swearers priests. + +PANDER Now the pox upon her greensickness for me! + +BAWD Faith, there's no way to be rid on 't but by the +way to the pox. + +[Enter Lysimachus.] + +Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised. + +BOLT We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish +baggage would but give way to customers. + +LYSIMACHUS, [removing his disguise] How now! How a +dozen of virginities? + +BAWD Now the gods to-bless your Honor! + +BOLT I am glad to see your Honor in good health. + +LYSIMACHUS You may so. 'Tis the better for you that +your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now? +Wholesome iniquity have you that a man may deal +withal and defy the surgeon? + +BAWD We have here one, sir, if she would--but there +never came her like in Mytilene. + +LYSIMACHUS If she'd do the deeds of darkness, thou +wouldst say? + +BAWD Your Honor knows what 'tis to say, well enough. + +LYSIMACHUS Well, call forth, call forth. [Pander exits.] + +BOLT For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall +see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had +but-- + +LYSIMACHUS What, prithee? + +BOLT O, sir, I can be modest. + +LYSIMACHUS That dignifies the renown of a bawd no +less than it gives a good report to a number to be +chaste. + +[Enter Pander with Marina.] + + +BAWD Here comes that which grows to the stalk, never +plucked yet, I can assure you. Is she not a fair +creature? + +LYSIMACHUS Faith, she would serve after a long voyage +at sea. Well, there's for you. [He gives money.] +Leave us. + +BAWD I beseech your Honor, give me leave a word, and +I'll have done presently. + +LYSIMACHUS I beseech you, do. [He moves aside.] + +BAWD, [to Marina] First, I would have you note this is +an honorable man. + +MARINA I desire to find him so, that I may worthily +note him. + +BAWD Next, he's the governor of this country and a +man whom I am bound to. + +MARINA If he govern the country, you are bound to him +indeed, but how honorable he is in that I know +not. + +BAWD Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, +will you use him kindly? He will line your apron +with gold. + +MARINA What he will do graciously, I will thankfully +receive. + +LYSIMACHUS, [coming forward] Ha' you done? + +BAWD My lord, she's not paced yet. You must take some +pains to work her to your manage.--Come, we will +leave his Honor and her together. Go thy ways. +[Bawd, Pander, and Bolt exit.] + +LYSIMACHUS Now, pretty one, how long have you been +at this trade? + +MARINA What trade, sir? + +LYSIMACHUS Why, I cannot name 't but I shall offend. + +MARINA I cannot be offended with my trade. Please +you to name it. + +LYSIMACHUS How long have you been of this profession? + +MARINA E'er since I can remember. + +LYSIMACHUS Did you go to 't so young? Were you a +gamester at five or at seven? + +MARINA Earlier too, sir, if now I be one. + +LYSIMACHUS Why, the house you dwell in proclaims +you to be a creature of sale. + +MARINA Do you know this house to be a place of such +resort, and will come into 't? I hear say you're of +honorable parts and are the governor of this place. + +LYSIMACHUS Why, hath your principal made known +unto you who I am? + +MARINA Who is my principal? + +LYSIMACHUS Why, your herbwoman, she that sets +seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. O, you have +heard something of my power, and so stand aloof +for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, +pretty one, my authority shall not see thee, or else +look friendly upon thee. Come, bring me to some +private place. Come, come. + +MARINA +If you were born to honor, show it now; +If put upon you, make the judgment good +That thought you worthy of it. + +LYSIMACHUS +How's this? How's this? Some more. Be sage. + +MARINA For me +That am a maid, though most ungentle Fortune +Have placed me in this sty, where, since I came, +Diseases have been sold dearer than physic-- +That the gods +Would set me free from this unhallowed place, +Though they did change me to the meanest bird +That flies i' the purer air! + +LYSIMACHUS I did not think +Thou couldst have spoke so well, ne'er dreamt thou +couldst. +Had I brought hither a corrupted mind, +Thy speech had altered it. Hold, here's gold for thee. +Persevere in that clear way thou goest +And the gods strengthen thee! [He gives her money.] + +MARINA The good gods preserve you. + +LYSIMACHUS For me, be you thoughten +That I came with no ill intent, for to me +The very doors and windows savor vilely. +Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, +And I doubt not but thy training hath been noble. +Hold, here's more gold for thee. [He gives her money.] +A curse upon him, die he like a thief, +That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost +Hear from me, it shall be for thy good. +[He begins to exit.] + +BOLT, [at the door] I beseech your Honor, one piece +for me. + +LYSIMACHUS Avaunt, thou damned doorkeeper! +Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it, +Would sink and overwhelm you. Away! [He exits.] + +BOLT How's this? We must take another course with +you! If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a +breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope, +shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded +like a spaniel. Come your ways. + +MARINA Whither would you have me? + +BOLT I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the +common hangman shall execute it. Come your +way. We'll have no more gentlemen driven away. +Come your ways, I say. + +[Enter Bawd and Pander.] + + +BAWD How now, what's the matter? + +BOLT Worse and worse, mistress. She has here spoken +holy words to the Lord Lysimachus! + +BAWD O, abominable! + +BOLT He makes our profession as it were to stink afore +the face of the gods. + +BAWD Marry, hang her up forever. + +BOLT The nobleman would have dealt with her like a +nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a +snowball, saying his prayers too. + +BAWD Bolt, take her away, use her at thy pleasure, +crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest +malleable. + +BOLT An if she were a thornier piece of ground than +she is, she shall be plowed. + +MARINA Hark, hark, you gods! + +BAWD She conjures. Away with her! Would she had +never come within my doors.--Marry, hang you!-- +She's born to undo us.--Will you not go the way of +womenkind? Marry come up, my dish of chastity +with rosemary and bays! [Bawd and Pander exit.] + +BOLT Come, mistress, come your way with me. + +MARINA Whither wilt thou have me? + +BOLT To take from you the jewel you hold so dear. + +MARINA Prithee, tell me one thing first. + +BOLT Come, now, your one thing. + +MARINA +What canst thou wish thine enemy to be? + +BOLT Why, I could wish him to be my master, or +rather, my mistress. + +MARINA +Neither of these are so bad as thou art, +Since they do better thee in their command. +Thou hold'st a place for which the pained'st fiend +Of hell would not in reputation change. +Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every +Coistrel that comes enquiring for his Tib. +To the choleric fisting of every rogue +Thy ear is liable. Thy food is such +As hath been belched on by infected lungs. + +BOLT What would you have me do? Go to the wars, +would you, where a man may serve seven years for +the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the +end to buy him a wooden one? + +MARINA +Do anything but this thou dost. Empty +Old receptacles, or common shores, of filth; +Serve by indenture to the common hangman. +Any of these ways are yet better than this. +For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak, +Would own a name too dear. That the gods +Would safely deliver me from this place! +Here, here's gold for thee. [She gives him money.] +If that thy master would gain by me, +Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance, +With other virtues which I'll keep from boast, +And will undertake all these to teach. +I doubt not but this populous city +Will yield many scholars. + +BOLT But can you teach all this you speak of? + +MARINA +Prove that I cannot, take me home again +And prostitute me to the basest groom +That doth frequent your house. + +BOLT Well, I will see what I can do for thee. If I can +place thee, I will. + +MARINA But amongst honest women. + +BOLT Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them. +But since my master and mistress hath bought +you, there's no going but by their consent. Therefore +I will make them acquainted with your +purpose, and I doubt not but I shall find them +tractable enough. Come, I'll do for thee what I can. +Come your ways. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + + +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Marina thus the brothel 'scapes, and chances + Into an honest house, our story says. +She sings like one immortal, and she dances + As goddesslike to her admired lays. +Deep clerks she dumbs, and with her neele composes + Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry, +That even her art sisters the natural roses. + Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry, +That pupils lacks she none of noble race, + Who pour their bounty on her, and her gain +She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place, + And to her father turn our thoughts again, +Where we left him, on the sea. We there him lost, + Where, driven before the winds, he is arrived +Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast + Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived +God Neptune's annual feast to keep, from whence + Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies, +His banners sable, trimmed with rich expense, + And to him in his barge with fervor hies. +In your supposing once more put your sight + Of heavy Pericles. Think this his bark, +Where what is done in action--more, if might-- + Shall be discovered. Please you sit and hark. +[He exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Helicanus, to him two Sailors, one from the +Tyrian ship and one from Mytilene.] + + +TYRIAN SAILOR, [to Sailor from Mytilene] +Where is Lord Helicanus? He can resolve you. +O, here he is.-- +Sir, there is a barge put off from Mytilene, +And in it is Lysimachus, the Governor, +Who craves to come aboard. What is your will? + +HELICANUS +That he have his. [Sailor from Mytilene exits.] +Call up some gentlemen. + +TYRIAN SAILOR Ho, gentlemen, my lord calls. + +[Enter two or three Gentlemen.] + + +GENTLEMAN +Doth your Lordship call? + +HELICANUS Gentlemen, +There is some of worth would come aboard. +I pray, greet him fairly. + +[Enter Lysimachus, with Lords and Sailor from Mytilene.] + + +SAILOR FROM MYTILENE, [to Lysimachus] Sir, +This is the man that can, in aught you would, +Resolve you. + +LYSIMACHUS, [to Helicanus] +Hail, reverend sir. The gods preserve you. + +HELICANUS And you, to outlive the age I am, +And die as I would do. + +LYSIMACHUS You wish me well. +Being on shore, honoring of Neptune's triumphs, +Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us, +I made to it to know of whence you are. + +HELICANUS First, what is your place? + +LYSIMACHUS +I am the governor of this place you lie before. + +HELICANUS Sir, +Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the King, +A man who for this three months hath not spoken +To anyone, nor taken sustenance +But to prorogue his grief. + +LYSIMACHUS +Upon what ground is his distemperature? + +HELICANUS 'Twould be too tedious to repeat, +But the main grief springs from the loss +Of a beloved daughter and a wife. + +LYSIMACHUS May we not see him? + +HELICANUS You may, +But bootless is your sight. He will not speak +To any. + +LYSIMACHUS Yet let me obtain my wish. + +HELICANUS +Behold him. [Pericles is revealed.] This was a goodly +person, +Till the disaster that one mortal night +Drove him to this. + +LYSIMACHUS +Sir king, all hail! The gods preserve you. Hail, +Royal sir! + +HELICANUS +It is in vain; he will not speak to you. + +LORD +Sir, we have a maid in Mytilene, +I durst wager would win some words of him. + +LYSIMACHUS 'Tis well bethought. +She, questionless, with her sweet harmony +And other chosen attractions, would allure +And make a batt'ry through his defended ports, +Which now are midway stopped. +She is all happy as the fairest of all, +And, with her fellow maid, is now upon +The leafy shelter that abuts against +The island's side. + +HELICANUS +Sure, all effectless; yet nothing we'll omit +That bears recovery's name. +[Lysimachus signals to a Lord, who exits.] +But since your kindness +We have stretched thus far, let us beseech you +That for our gold we may provision have, +Wherein we are not destitute for want, +But weary for the staleness. + +LYSIMACHUS O, sir, a courtesy +Which, if we should deny, the most just God +For every graft would send a caterpillar, +And so inflict our province. Yet once more +Let me entreat to know at large the cause +Of your king's sorrow. + +HELICANUS +Sit, sir, I will recount it to you. But see, +I am prevented. + +[Enter Lord with Marina and her companion.] + + +LYSIMACHUS O, here's the lady that I sent for.-- +Welcome, fair one.--Is 't not a goodly presence? + +HELICANUS She's a gallant lady. + +LYSIMACHUS +She's such a one that, were I well assured +Came of a gentle kind and noble stock, +I'd wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed.-- +Fair one, all goodness that consists in beauty: +Expect even here, where is a kingly patient, +If that thy prosperous and artificial feat +Can draw him but to answer thee in aught, +Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay +As thy desires can wish. + +MARINA Sir, I will use +My utmost skill in his recovery, provided +That none but I and my companion maid +Be suffered to come near him. + +LYSIMACHUS Come, let us +Leave her, and the gods make her prosperous. +[Lysimachus, Helicanus and others move aside.] + +MARINA [sings] +[The Song.] + + + +LYSIMACHUS, [coming forward] +Marked he your music? + +MARINA No, nor looked on us. + +LYSIMACHUS, [moving aside] +See, she will speak to him. + +MARINA, [to Pericles] Hail, sir! My lord, lend ear. + +PERICLES Hum, ha! [He pushes her away.] + +MARINA I am a maid, my lord, +That ne'er before invited eyes, but have +Been gazed on like a comet. She speaks, +My lord, that may be hath endured a grief +Might equal yours, if both were justly weighed. +Though wayward Fortune did malign my state, +My derivation was from ancestors +Who stood equivalent with mighty kings. +But time hath rooted out my parentage, +And to the world and awkward casualties +Bound me in servitude. [Aside.] I will desist, +But there is something glows upon my cheek, +And whispers in mine ear "Go not till he speak." + +PERICLES +My fortunes--parentage--good parentage, +To equal mine! Was it not thus? What say you? + +MARINA +I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage, +You would not do me violence. + +PERICLES I do think so. +Pray you turn your eyes upon me. +You're like something that--What +countrywoman? +Here of these shores? + +MARINA No, nor of any shores. +Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am +No other than I appear. + +PERICLES +I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping. +My dearest wife was like this maid, and such +A one my daughter might have been: my queen's +Square brows, her stature to an inch; +As wandlike straight, as silver-voiced; her eyes +As jewel-like, and cased as richly; in pace +Another Juno; who starves the ears she feeds +And makes them hungry the more she gives them +speech.-- +Where do you live? + +MARINA Where I am but a stranger. +From the deck you may discern the place. + +PERICLES +Where were you bred? And how achieved you these +Endowments which you make more rich to owe? + +MARINA +If I should tell my history, it would seem +Like lies disdained in the reporting. + +PERICLES Prithee, speak. +Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou lookest +Modest as Justice, and thou seemest a palace +For the crowned Truth to dwell in. I will believe thee +And make my senses credit thy relation +To points that seem impossible, for thou lookest +Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends? +Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back-- +Which was when I perceived thee--that thou cam'st +From good descending? + +MARINA So indeed I did. + +PERICLES +Report thy parentage. I think thou said'st +Thou hadst been tossed from wrong to injury, +And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine, +If both were opened. + +MARINA Some such thing I said, +And said no more but what my thoughts +Did warrant me was likely. + +PERICLES Tell thy story. +If thine considered prove the thousand part +Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I +Have suffered like a girl. Yet thou dost look +Like Patience gazing on kings' graves and smiling +Extremity out of act. What were thy friends? +How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind +virgin, +Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me. +[She sits.] + +MARINA +My name is Marina. + +PERICLES O, I am mocked, +And thou by some incensed god sent hither +To make the world to laugh at me! + +MARINA Patience, good sir, +Or here I'll cease. + +PERICLES Nay, I'll be patient. +Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me +To call thyself Marina. + +MARINA The name +Was given me by one that had some power-- +My father, and a king. + +PERICLES How, a king's daughter? +And called Marina? + +MARINA You said you would believe me. +But not to be a troubler of your peace, +I will end here. + +PERICLES But are you flesh and blood? +Have you a working pulse, and are no fairy +Motion? Well, speak on. Where were you born? +And wherefore called Marina? + +MARINA Called Marina +For I was born at sea. + +PERICLES At sea? What mother? + +MARINA +My mother was the daughter of a king, +Who died the minute I was born, +As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft +Delivered weeping. + +PERICLES O, stop there a little! +[Aside.] This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep +Did mock sad fools withal. This cannot be +My daughter, buried.--Well, where were you bred? +I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story, +And never interrupt you. + +MARINA +You scorn. Believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er. + +PERICLES +I will believe you by the syllable +Of what you shall deliver. Yet give me leave: +How came you in these parts? Where were you bred? + +MARINA +The King my father did in Tarsus leave me, +Till cruel Cleon with his wicked wife +Did seek to murder me; and having wooed a villain +To attempt it, who, having drawn to do 't, +A crew of pirates came and rescued me, +Brought me to Mytilene--But, good sir, +Whither will you have me? Why do you weep? +It may be you think me an impostor. +No, good faith. +I am the daughter to King Pericles, +If good King Pericles be. + +PERICLES Ho, Helicanus! + +HELICANUS Calls my lord? + +PERICLES +Thou art a grave and noble counselor, +Most wise in general. Tell me, if thou canst, +What this maid is, or what is like to be, +That thus hath made me weep. + +HELICANUS I know not; +But here's the regent, sir, of Mytilene +Speaks nobly of her. + +LYSIMACHUS She never would tell +Her parentage. Being demanded that, +She would sit still and weep. + +PERICLES +O, Helicanus! Strike me, honored sir. +Give me a gash, put me to present pain, +Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me +O'erbear the shores of my mortality +And drown me with their sweetness.--O, come hither, +Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget, +Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus, +And found at sea again!--O, Helicanus, +Down on thy knees! Thank the holy gods as loud +As thunder threatens us. This is Marina.-- +What was thy mother's name? Tell me but that, +For truth can never be confirmed enough, +Though doubts did ever sleep. + +MARINA +First, sir, I pray, what is your title? + +PERICLES +I am Pericles of Tyre. But tell me now +My drowned queen's name, as in the rest you said +Thou hast been godlike perfect, the heir of kingdoms, +And another life to Pericles thy father. + +MARINA +Is it no more to be your daughter than +To say my mother's name was Thaisa? +Thaisa was my mother, who did end +The minute I began. + +PERICLES +Now, blessing on thee! Rise. Thou 'rt my child.-- +Give me fresh garments.--Mine own Helicanus, +She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should +Have been, by savage Cleon. She shall tell thee all, +When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge +She is thy very princess. Who is this? + +HELICANUS +Sir, 'tis the Governor of Mytilene, +Who, hearing of your melancholy state, +Did come to see you. + +PERICLES, [to Lysimachus] I embrace you.-- +Give me my robes.--I am wild in my beholding. +[They put fresh garments on him.] +O heavens bless my girl! But hark, what music? +Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him o'er +Point by point, for yet he seems to doubt, +How sure you are my daughter.--But what music? + +HELICANUS My lord, I hear none. + +PERICLES None? +The music of the spheres!--List, my Marina. + +LYSIMACHUS +It is not good to cross him. Give him way. + +PERICLES Rarest sounds! Do you not hear? + +LYSIMACHUS +Music, my lord? I hear-- + +PERICLES Most heavenly music. +It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumber +Hangs upon mine eyes. Let me rest. [He sleeps.] + +LYSIMACHUS +A pillow for his head. So, leave him all. +[Lysimachus and others begin to exit.] +Well, my companion friends, if this but answer +To my just belief, I'll well remember you. +[All but Pericles exit.] + +[Diana descends.] + + +DIANA +My temple stands in Ephesus. Hie thee thither +And do upon mine altar sacrifice. +There, when my maiden priests are met together, +Before the people all, +Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife. +To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call, +And give them repetition to the life. +Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe; +Do 't, and happy, by my silver bow. +Awake, and tell thy dream. [She ascends.] + +PERICLES Celestial Dian, +Goddess argentine, I will obey thee.-- +Helicanus! + +[Enter Helicanus, Lysimachus, Marina, and +Attendants.] + + +HELICANUS Sir. + +PERICLES +My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike +The inhospitable Cleon, but I am +For other service first. Toward Ephesus +Turn our blown sails. Eftsoons I'll tell thee why.-- +Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore, +And give you gold for such provision +As our intents will need? + +LYSIMACHUS Sir, +With all my heart. And when you come ashore, +I have another suit. + +PERICLES You shall prevail +Were it to woo my daughter, for it seems +You have been noble towards her. + +LYSIMACHUS +Sir, lend me your arm. + +PERICLES Come, my Marina. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +Now our sands are almost run, +More a little, and then dumb. +This my last boon give me-- +For such kindness must relieve me-- +That you aptly will suppose +What pageantry, what feats, what shows, +What minstrelsy and pretty din +The regent made in Mytilene +To greet the King. So he thrived +That he is promised to be wived +To fair Marina, but in no wise +Till he had done his sacrifice +As Dian bade, whereto being bound, +The interim, pray you, all confound. +In feathered briefness sails are filled, +And wishes fall out as they're willed. +At Ephesus the temple see +Our king and all his company. +That he can hither come so soon +Is by your fancies' thankful doom. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Cerimon and Diana's Priestesses, including +Thaisa; at another door enter Pericles, Marina, +Helicanus, Lysimachus, and Attendants.] + + +PERICLES +Hail, Dian! To perform thy just command, +I here confess myself the King of Tyre, +Who, frighted from my country, did wed +At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa. +At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth +A maid child called Marina, whom, O goddess, +Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus +Was nursed with Cleon, who at fourteen years +He sought to murder. But her better stars +Brought her to Mytilene, 'gainst whose shore riding, +Her fortunes brought the maid aboard us, where, +By her own most clear remembrance, she made known +Herself my daughter. + +THAISA Voice and favor! +You are, you are--O royal Pericles! +[She falls in a faint.] + +PERICLES +What means the nun? She dies! Help, gentlemen! + +CERIMON Noble sir, +If you have told Diana's altar true, +This is your wife. + +PERICLES Reverend appearer, no. +I threw her overboard with these very arms. + +CERIMON +Upon this coast, I warrant you. + +PERICLES 'Tis most certain. + +CERIMON +Look to the lady. O, she's but overjoyed. +Early one blustering morn this lady was +Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin, +Found there rich jewels, recovered her, and placed her +Here in Diana's temple. + +PERICLES May we see them? + +CERIMON +Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house, +Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa +Is recovered. [Thaisa rises.] + +THAISA O, let me look! +If he be none of mine, my sanctity +Will to my sense bend no licentious ear, +But curb it, spite of seeing.--O, my lord, +Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake, +Like him you are. Did you not name a tempest, +A birth and death? + +PERICLES The voice of dead Thaisa! + +THAISA +That Thaisa am I, supposed dead +And drowned. + +PERICLES +Immortal Dian! + +THAISA Now I know you better. +[She points to the ring on his hand.] +When we with tears parted Pentapolis, +The king my father gave you such a ring. + +PERICLES +This, this! No more, you gods! Your present kindness +Makes my past miseries sports. You shall do well +That on the touching of her lips I may +Melt and no more be seen.--O, come, be buried +A second time within these arms! [They embrace.] + +MARINA, [kneeling] My heart +Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom. + +PERICLES +Look who kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa, +Thy burden at the sea, and called Marina +For she was yielded there. + +THAISA, [embracing Marina] Blessed, and mine own! + +HELICANUS +Hail, madam, and my queen. + +THAISA I know you not. + +PERICLES +You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre +I left behind an ancient substitute. +Can you remember what I called the man? +I have named him oft. + +THAISA 'Twas Helicanus then. + +PERICLES Still confirmation! +Embrace him, dear Thaisa. This is he. +[They embrace.] +Now do I long to hear how you were found, +How possibly preserved, and who to thank, +Besides the gods, for this great miracle. + +THAISA Lord Cerimon, my lord, this man +Through whom the gods have shown their power, +that can +From first to last resolve you. + +PERICLES Reverend sir, +The gods can have no mortal officer +More like a god than you. Will you deliver +How this dead queen relives? + +CERIMON I will, my lord. +Beseech you, first go with me to my house, +Where shall be shown you all was found with her, +How she came placed here in the temple, +No needful thing omitted. + +PERICLES +Pure Dian, I bless thee for thy vision, and +Will offer night oblations to thee.--Thaisa, +This prince, the fair betrothed of your daughter, +Shall marry her at Pentapolis.--And now this +ornament +Makes me look dismal will I clip to form, +And what this fourteen years no razor touched, +To grace thy marriage day I'll beautify. + +THAISA +Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir, +My father's dead. + +PERICLES +Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen, +We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves +Will in that kingdom spend our following days. +Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.-- +Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay +To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead 's the way. +[They exit.] + +EPILOGUE +======== +[Enter Gower.] + + +GOWER +In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard +Of monstrous lust the due and just reward. +In Pericles, his queen, and daughter seen, +Although assailed with fortune fierce and keen, +Virtue preserved from fell destruction's blast, +Led on by heaven, and crowned with joy at last. +In Helicanus may you well descry +A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty. +In reverend Cerimon there well appears +The worth that learned charity aye wears. +For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame +Had spread his cursed deed to the honored name +Of Pericles, to rage the city turn, +That him and his they in his palace burn. +The gods for murder seemed so content +To punish, although not done, but meant. +So on your patience evermore attending, +New joy wait on you. Here our play has ending. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/poems.txt b/datasets/bard/poems.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d60f918 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/poems.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7063 @@ +The Poetical Works of John Milton + + + +PREFACE by the Rev. H. C. Beeching, M. A. + + +This edition of Milton's Poetry is a reprint, as careful as Editor +and Printers have been able to make it, from the earliest printed +copies of the several poems. First the 1645 volume of the +Minor Poems has been printed entire; then follow in order the +poems added in the reissue of 1673; the Paradise Lost, from the +edition of 1667; and the Paradise Regain'd and Samson +Agonistes from the edition of 1671. + +The most interesting portion of the book must be reckoned the +first section of it, which reproduces for the first time the scarce +small octavo of 1645. The only reprint of the Minor Poems in +the old spelling, so far as I know, is the one edited by Mitford, +but that followed the edition of 1673, which is comparatively +uninteresting since it could not have had Milton's oversight as it +passed through the press. We know that it was set up from a +copy of the 1645 edition, because it reproduces some pointless +eccentricities such as the varying form of the chorus to Psalm +cxxxvi; but while it corrects the errata tabulated in that edition +it commits many more blunders of its own. It is valuable, +however, as the editio princeps of ten of the sonnets and it +contains one important alteration in the Ode on the Nativity. +This and all other alterations will be found noted where they +occur. I have not thought it necessary to note mere differences +of spelling between the two editions but a word may find place +here upon their general character. Generally it may be said that, +where the two editions differ, the later spelling is that now in +use. Thus words like goddess, darkness, usually written in the +first edition with one final s, have two, while on the other hand +words like vernall, youthfull, and monosyllables like hugg, farr, +lose their double letter. Many monosyllables, e.g. som, cours, +glimps, wher, vers, aw, els, don, ey, ly, so written in 1645, take +on in 1673 an e mute, while words like harpe, windes, onely, +lose it. By a reciprocal change ayr and cipress become air and +cypress; and the vowels in daign, vail, neer, beleeve, sheild, +boosom, eeven, battail, travailer, and many other words are +similarly modernized. On the other hand there are a few cases +where the 1645 edition exhibits the spelling which has +succeeded in fixing itself, as travail (1673, travel) in the sense of +labour; and rob'd, profane, human, flood and bloody, forest, +triple, alas, huddling, are found where the 1673 edition has +roab'd, prophane, humane, floud and bloudy, forrest, tripple, +alass and hudling. Indeed the spelling in this later edition is not +untouched by seventeenth century inconsistency. It retains here +and there forms like shameles, cateres, (where 1645 reads +cateress), and occasionally reverts to the older-fashioned +spelling of monosyllables without the mute e. In the Epitaph on +the Marchioness of Winchester, it reads --' And som flowers +and some bays.' But undoubtedly the impression on the whole +is of a much more modern text. + +In the matter of small or capital letters I have followed the old +copy, except in one or two places where a personification +seemed not plainly enough marked to a modern reader without +a capital. Thus in Il Penseroso, l. 49, I print Leasure, although +both editions read leasure; and in the Vacation Exercise, l. 71, +Times for times. Also where the employment or omission of a +capital is plainly due to misprinting, as too frequently in the +1673 edition, I silently make the correction. Examples are, +notes for Notes in Sonnet xvii. l. 13; Anointed for anointed in +Psalm ii. l.12. + +In regard to punctuation I have followed the old printers except +in obvious misprints, and followed them also, as far as possible, +in their distribution of roman and italic type and in the grouping +of words and lines in the various titles. To follow them exactly +was impossible, as the books are so very different in size. + +At this point the candid reader may perhaps ask what advantage +is gained by presenting these poems to modern readers in the +dress of a bygone age. If the question were put to me I should +probably evade it by pointing out that Mr. Frowde is issuing an +edition based upon this, in which the spelling is frankly that of +to-day. But if the question were pressed, I think a sufficient +answer might be found. To begin with, I should point out that +even Prof. Masson, who in his excellent edition argues the +point and decides in favour of modern spelling, allows that there +are peculiarities of Milton's spelling which are really significant, +and ought therefore to be noted or preserved. But who is to +determine exactly which words are spelt according to the poet's +own instructions, and which according to the printer's whim? It +is notorious that in Paradise Lost some words were spelt upon a +deliberate system, and it may very well happen that in the +volume of minor poems which the poet saw through the press in +1645, there were spellings no less systematic. Prof. Masson +makes a great point of the fact that Milton's own spelling, +exhibited in the autograph manuscript of some of the minor +poems preserved in Trinity College, Cambridge, does not +correspond with that of the printed copy. [Note: This +manuscript, invaluable to all students of Milton, has lately been +facsimiled under the superintendence of Dr. Aldis Wright, and +published at the Cambridge University press]. This is certainly +true, as the reader may see for himself by comparing the +passage from the manuscript given in the appendix with the +corresponding place in the text. Milton's own spelling revels in +redundant e's, while the printer of the 1645 book is very sparing +of them. But in cases where the spelling affects the metre, we +find that the printed text and Milton's manuscript closely +correspond; and it is upon its value in determining the metre, +quite as much as its antiquarian interest, that I should base a +justification of this reprint. Take, for instance, such a line as the +eleventh of Comus, which Prof. Masson gives as:- + + Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. + +A reader not learned in Miltonic rhythms will certainly read this + + Amongst th' enthroned gods + +But the 1645 edition reads: + + Amongst the enthron'd gods + +and so does Milton's manuscript. Again, in line 597, Prof. +Masson reads: + + It shall be in eternal restless change + Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail, + The pillared firmament is rottenness, &c. + +But the 1645 text and Milton's manuscript read self-consum'd; +after which word there is to be understood a metrical pause to +mark the violent transition of the thought. + +Again in the second line of the Sonnet to a Nightingale Prof. +Masson has: + + Warblest at eve when all the woods are still + +but the early edition, which probably follows Milton's spelling +though in this case we have no manuscript to compare, reads +'Warbl'st.' So the original text of Samson, l. 670, has 'temper'st.' + +The retention of the old system of punctuation may be less +defensible, but I have retained it because it may now and then +be of use in determining a point of syntax. The absence of a +comma, for example, after the word hearse in the 58th line of +the Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester, printed by Prof. +Masson thus:-- + + And some flowers, and some bays + For thy hearse to strew thy ways, + +but in the 1645 edition:-- + + And som Flowers, and som Bays, + For thy Hears to strew the ways, + +goes to prove that for here must be taken as 'fore. + +Of the Paradise Lost there were two editions issued during +Milton's lifetime, and while the first has been taken as our text, +all the variants in the second, not being simple misprints, have +been recorded in the notes. In one respect, however, in the +distribution of the poem into twelve books instead of ten, it has +seemed best, for the sake of practical convenience, to follow the +second edition. A word may be allowed here on the famous +correction among the Errata prefixed to the first edition: 'Lib. +2. v. 414, for we read wee.' This correction shows not only that +Milton had theories about spelling, but also that he found +means, though his sight was gone, to ascertain whether his rules +had been carried out by his printer; and in itself this fact justifies +a facsimile reprint. What the principle in the use of the double +vowel exactly was (and it is found to affect the other +monosyllabic pronouns) it is not so easy to discover, though +roughly it is clear the reduplication was intended to mark +emphasis. For example, in the speech of the Divine Son after +the battle in heaven (vi. 810-817) the pronouns which the voice +would naturally emphasize are spelt with the double vowel: + + Stand onely and behold + Gods indignation on these Godless pourd + By mee; not you but mee they have despis'd, + Yet envied; against mee is all thir rage, + Because the Father, t'whom in Heav'n supream + Kingdom and Power and Glorie appertains, + Hath honourd me according to his will. + Therefore to mee thir doom he hath assign'd. + +In the Son's speech offering himself as Redeemer (iii. 227-249) +where the pronoun all through is markedly emphasized, it is +printed mee the first four times, and afterwards me; but it is +noticeable that these first four times the emphatic word does +not stand in the stressed place of the verse, so that a careless +reader might not emphasize it, unless his attention were +specially led by some such sign: + + Behold mee then, mee for him, life for life + I offer, on mee let thine anger fall; + Account mee man. + +In the Hymn of Creation (v.160-209) where ye occurs fourteen +times, the emphasis and the metric stress six times out of seven +coincide, and the pronoun is spelt yee; where it is unemphatic, +and in an unstressed place, it is spelt ye. Two lines are especially +instructive: +Speak yee who best can tell, ye Sons of light (l. 160); + +and + + Fountains and yee, that warble, as ye flow, + Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise (l. 195). + +In v. 694 it marks, as the voice by its emphasis would mark in +reading, a change of subject: + + So spake the false Arch-Angel, and infus'd + Bad influence into th' unwarie brest + Of his Associate; hee (i. e. the associate) together calls, +&c. + +An examination of other passages, where there is no antithesis, +goes to show that the lengthened form of the pronoun is most +frequent before a pause (as vii. 95); or at the end of a line (i. +245, 257); or when a foot is inverted (v. 133); or when as +object it precedes its verb (v. 612; vii. 747), or as subject +follows it (ix. 1109; x. 4). But as we might expect under +circumstances where a purist could not correct his own proofs, +there are not a few inconsistencies. There does not seem, for +example, any special emphasis in the second wee of the +following passage: + + Freely we serve. + Because wee freely love, as in our will + To love or not; in this we stand or fall (v. 538). + + +On the other hand, in the passage (iii. 41) in which the poet +speaks of his own blindness: + + Thus with the Year + Seasons return, but not to me returns + Day, &c. + +where, if anywhere, we should expect mee, we do not find it, +though it occurs in the speech eight lines below. It should be +added that this differentiation of the pronouns is not found in +any printed poem of Milton's before Paradise Lost, nor is it +found in the Cambridge autograph. In that manuscript the +constant forms are me, wee, yee. There is one place where +there is a difference in the spelling of she, and it is just possible +that this may not be due to accident. In the first verse of the +song in Arcades, the MS. reads: + + This, this is shee; + +and in the third verse: + + This, this is she alone. + +This use of the double vowel is found a few times in Paradise +Regain'd: in ii. 259 and iv. 486, 497 where mee begins a line, +and in iv. 638 where hee is specially emphatic in the concluding +lines of the poem. In Samson Agonistes it is more frequent +(e.g. lines 124, 178, 193, 220, 252, 290, 1125). Another word +the spelling of which in Paradise Lost will be observed to vary is +the pronoun their, which is spelt sometimes thir. The spelling in +the Cambridge manuscript is uniformly thire, except once when +it is thir; and where their once occurs in the writing of an +amanuensis the e is struck through. That the difference is not +merely a printer's device to accommodate his line may be seen +by a comparison of lines 358 and 363 in the First Book, where +the shorter word comes in the shorter line. It is probable that +the lighter form of the word was intended to be used when it +was quite unemphatic. Contrast, for example, in Book iii. l.59: +His own works and their works at once to view with line 113: +Thir maker and thir making and thir Fate. But the use is not +consistent, and the form thir is not found at all till the 349th +line of the First Book. The distinction is kept up in the Paradise +Regain'd and Samson Agonistes, but, if possible, with even less +consistency. Such passages, however, as Paradise Regain'd, iii. +414-440; Samson Agonistes, 880-890, are certainly spelt upon a +method, and it is noticeable that in the choruses the lighter form +is universal. + +Paradise Regain'd and Samson Agonistes were published in +1671, and no further edition was called for in the remaining +three years of the poet's lifetime, so that in the case of these +poems there are no new readings to record; and the texts were +so carefully revised, that only one fault (Paradise Regain'd, ii. +309) was left for correction later. In these and the other poems +I have corrected the misprints catalogued in the tables of Errata, +and I have silently corrected any other unless it might be +mistaken for a various reading, when I have called attention to +it in a note. Thus I have not recorded such blunders as Letbian +for Lesbian in the 1645 text of Lycidas, line 63; or hallow for +hollow in Paradise Lost, vi. 484; but I have noted content for +concent, in At a Solemn Musick, line 6. + +In conclusion I have to offer my sincere thanks to all who have +collaborated with me in preparing this Edition; to the Delegates +of the Oxford Press for allowing me to undertake it and +decorate it with so many facsimiles; to the Controller of the +Press for his unfailing courtesy; to the printers and printer's +reader for their care and pains. Coming nearer home I cannot +but acknowledge the help I have received in looking over proof- +sheets from my sister, Mrs. P. A. Barnett, who has +ungrudgingly put at the service of this book both time and +eyesight. In taking leave of it, I may be permitted to say that it +has cost more of both these inestimable treasures than I had +anticipated. The last proof reaches me just a year after the first, +and the progress of the work has not in the interval been +interrupted. In tenui labor et tenuis gloria. Nevertheless I cannot +be sorry it was undertaken. + +H. C. B. + +YATTENDON RECTORY, +November 8, 1899. + + + +Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of 1645 edition +follows: + + + POEMS + OF + Mr John Milton, + BOTH + ENGLISH and LATIN + Compos'd at several times. + ------------------------------ + Printed by his true copies. + ------------------------------ + The SONGS were set in Musick by + Mr. HENRY LAWES Gentleman of + the KINGS Chappel, and one + of His MAIESTIES + Private Musick. + + --------Baccare frontem + Cingite, ne vace noceat mala lingua futuro, + Virgil, Eclog. 7. + ----------------------------------------- + Printed, and Publish'd according to + ORDER. + ----------------------------------------- + LONDON, + Printed by Ruth Raworth for Humphrey Moseley, + and are to be sold at the signe of the Princes + Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard. 1645. + + + +Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of 1673 edition +follows: + + + POEMS, &c. + UPON + Several Occasions. + -------------------------- + BY + Mr. John Milton: + -------------------------- + Both ENGLISH and LATIN &c. + Composed at several times. + -------------------------- + With a small tractate of + EDUCATION + To Mr. HARTLIB + -------------------------- + -------------------------- + LONDON. + Printed for Tho. Dring at the Blew Anchor + next Mitre Court over against Fetter + Lane in Fleet-street. 1673. + + + +THE STATIONER TO THE READER. + + +It is not any Private respect of gain, Gentle Reader, for the +slightest Pamphlet is now adayes more vendible then the Works +of learnedest men; but it is the love I have to our own Language +that hath made me diligent to collect, and set forth such Peeces +in Prose and Vers as may renew the wonted honour and esteem +of our tongue: and it's the worth of these both English and Latin +poems, not the flourish of any prefixed encomions that can +invite thee to buy them, though these are not without the +highest Commendations and Applause of the learnedst +Academicks, both domestic and forrein: And amongst those of +our own Countrey, the unparalleled attestation of that +renowned Provost of Eaton, Sir Henry Wootton: I know not +thy palat how it relishes such dainties, nor how harmonious thy +soul is; perhaps more trivial Airs may please thee better. But +howsoever thy opinion is spent upon these, that incouragement +I have already received from the most ingenious men in their +clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Wallers late choice +Peeces, hath once more made me adventure into the World, +presenting it with these ever-green, and not to be blasted +Laurels. The Authors more peculiar excellency in these studies, +was too well known to conceal his Papers, or to keep me from +attempting to sollicit them from him. Let the event guide it self +which way it will, I shall deserve of the age, by bringing into the +Light as true a Birth, as the Muses have brought forth since our +famous Spencer wrote; whose Poems in these English ones are +as rarely imitated, as sweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou art +Eagle-eied to censure their worth, I am not fearful to expose +them to thy exactest perusal. + +Thine to Command + +HUMPH. MOSELEY. + + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. + + +ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY. +Compos'd 1629. + +I + +This is the Month, and this the happy morn +Wherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King, +Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, +Our great redemption from above did bring; +For so the holy sages once did sing, +That he our deadly forfeit should release, +And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. + +II + +That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, +And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty, +Wherwith he wont at Heav'ns high Councel-Table, 10 +To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, +He laid aside; and here with us to be, +Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day, +And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay. + +III + +Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein +Afford a present to the Infant God? +Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein, +To welcom him to this his new abode, +Now while the Heav'n by the Suns team untrod, +Hath took no print of the approching light, 20 +And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? + +IV + +See how from far upon the Eastern rode +The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet, +O run, prevent them with thy humble ode, +And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; +Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet, +And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire, +>From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow'd fire. + + +The Hymn. + +I + +IT was the Winter wilde, +While the Heav'n-born-childe, 30 +All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; +Nature in aw to him +Had doff't her gawdy trim, +With her great Master so to sympathize: +It was no season then for her +To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. + +II + +Only with speeches fair +She woo'd the gentle Air +To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow, +And on her naked shame, 40 +Pollute with sinfull blame, +The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw, +Confounded, that her Makers eyes +Should look so near upon her foul deformities. + +III + +But he her fears to cease, +Sent down the meek-eyd Peace, +She crown'd with Olive green, came softly sliding +Down through the turning sphear +His ready Harbinger, +With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 50 +And waving wide her mirtle wand, +She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land. + +IV + +No War, or Battails sound +Was heard the World around, +The idle spear and shield were high up hung; +The hooked Chariot stood +Unstain'd with hostile blood, +The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng, +And Kings sate still with awfull eye, +As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 60 + +V + +But peacefull was the night +Wherin the Prince of light +His raign of peace upon the earth began: +The Windes with wonder whist, +Smoothly the waters kist, +Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean, +Who now hath quite forgot to rave, +While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. + +VI + +The Stars with deep amaze +Stand fit in steadfast gaze, 70 +Bending one way their pretious influence, +And will not take their flight, +For all the morning light, +Or Lucifer that often warned them thence; +But in their glimmering Orbs did glow, +Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. + +VII + +And though the shady gloom +Had given day her room, +The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed, +And hid his head for shame, 80 +As his inferior flame, +The new enlightened world no more should need; +He saw a greater Sun appear +Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear. + +VIII + +The Shepherds on the Lawn, +Or ere the point of dawn, +Sate simply chatting in a rustic row; +Full little thought they than, +That the mighty Pan +Was kindly com to live with them below; 90 +Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep, +Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep. + +IX + +When such Musick sweet +Their hearts and ears did greet, +As never was by mortal finger strook, +Divinely-warbled voice +Answering the stringed noise, +As all their souls in blisfull rapture took: +The Air such pleasure loth to lose, +With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close. 100 + +X + +Nature that heard such sound +Beneath the hollow round +of Cynthia's seat the Airy region thrilling, +Now was almost won +To think her part was don +And that her raign had here its last fulfilling; +She knew such harmony alone +Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. + +XI + +At last surrounds their sight +A globe of circular light, 110 +That with long beams the shame faced night arrayed +The helmed Cherubim +And sworded Seraphim, +Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid, +Harping in loud and solemn quire, +With unexpressive notes to Heav'ns new-born Heir. + +XII + +Such Musick (as 'tis said) +Before was never made, +But when of old the sons of morning sung, +While the Creator Great +His constellations set, 120 +And the well-ballanc't world on hinges hung, +And cast the dark foundations deep, +And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep. + +XIII + +Ring out ye Crystall sphears, +Once bless our human ears, +(If ye have power to touch our senses so) +And let your silver chime +Move in melodious time; +And let the Base of Heav'ns deep Organ blow, 130 +And with your ninefold harmony +Make up full consort to th'Angelike symphony. + +XIV + +For if such holy Song +Enwrap our fancy long, +Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, +And speckl'd vanity +Will sicken soon and die, +And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould, +And Hell it self will pass away +And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 140 + +XV + +Yea Truth, and Justice then +Will down return to men, +Th'enameld Arras of the Rain-bow wearing, +And Mercy set between +Thron'd in Celestiall sheen, +With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing, +And Heav'n as at som festivall, +Will open wide the gates of her high Palace Hall. + +XVI + +But wisest Fate sayes no, +This must not yet be so, 150 +The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy, +That on the bitter cross +Must redeem our loss; +So both himself and us to glorifie: +Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, +The Wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep, + +XVII + +With such a horrid clang +As on Mount Sinai rang +While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake: +The aged Earth agast 160 +With terrour of that blast, +Shall from the surface to the center shake; +When at the worlds last session, +The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne. + +XVIII + +And then at last our bliss +Full and perfect is, +But now begins; for from this happy day +Th'old Dragon under ground +In straiter limits bound, +Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 170 +And wrath to see his Kingdom fail, +Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail. + +XIX + +The Oracles are dumm, +No voice or hideous humm +Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. +Apollo from his shrine +Can no more divine, +With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving. +No nightly trance, or breathed spell, +Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell. 180 + +XX + +The lonely mountains o're, +And the resounding shore, +A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; +>From haunted spring, and dale +Edg'd with poplar pale +The parting Genius is with sighing sent, +With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn +The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. + +XXI + +In consecrated Earth, +And on the holy Hearth, 190 +The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint, +In Urns, and Altars round, +A drear, and dying sound +Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint; +And the chill Marble seems to sweat, +While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. + +XXII + +Peor, and Baalim, +Forsake their Temples dim, +With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine, +And mooned Ashtaroth, 200 +Heav'ns Queen and Mother both, +Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine, +The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, +In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn. + +XXIII + +And sullen Moloch fled, +Hath left in shadows dred, +His burning Idol all of blackest hue, +In vain with Cymbals ring, +They call the grisly king, +In dismall dance about the furnace Blue; 210 +And Brutish gods of Nile as fast, +lsis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast. + + + +THE PASSION. + + +I + +ERE-while of Musick, and Ethereal mirth, +Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring, +And joyous news of heav'nly Infants birth, +My muse with Angels did divide to sing; +But headlong joy is ever on the wing, +In Wintry solstice like the shortn'd light +Soon swallow'd up in dark and long out-living night. + +II + +For now to sorrow must I tune my song, +And set my Harpe to notes of saddest wo, +Which on our dearest Lord did sease er'e long, +Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse then so, 10 +Which he for us did freely undergo. +Most perfect Heroe, try'd in heaviest plight +Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight. + +III + +He sov'ran Priest stooping his regall head +That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, +Poor fleshly Tabernacle entered, +His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies; +O what a Mask was there, what a disguise! +Yet more; the stroke of death he must abide, 20 +Then lies him meekly down fast by his Brethrens side. + +IV + +These latter scenes confine my roving vers, +To this Horizon is my Phoebus bound, +His Godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, +And former sufferings other where are found; +Loud o're the rest Cremona's Trump doth sound; +Me softer airs befit, and softer strings +Of Lute, or Viol still, more apt for mournful things. + +Note: 22 latter] latest 1673. + +V + +Befriend me night best Patroness of grief, +Over the Pole thy thickest mantle throw, 30 +And work my flatterd fancy to belief, +That Heav'n and Earth are colour'd with my wo; +My sorrows are too dark for day to know: +The leaves should all be black wheron I write, +And letters where my tears have washt a wannish white. + +VI + +See see the Chariot, and those rushing wheels, +That whirl'd the Prophet up at Chebar flood, +My spirit som transporting Cherub feels, +To bear me where the Towers of Salem stood, +Once glorious Towers, now sunk in guiltles blood; 40 +There doth my soul in holy vision sit +In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatick fit. + +VII + +Mine eye hath found that sad Sepulchral rock +That was the Casket of Heav'ns richest store, +And here though grief my feeble hands up-lock, +Yet on the softned Quarry would I score +My plaining vers as lively as before; +For sure so well instructed are my tears, +They would fitly fall in order'd Characters. + +VIII + +I thence hurried on viewles wing, 50 +Take up a weeping on the Mountains wilde, +The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring +Would soon unboosom all their Echoes milde, +And I (for grief is easily beguild) +Might think th'infection of my sorrows bound, +Had got a race of mourners on som pregnant cloud. + +Note: This subject the Author finding to be above the yeers he had, +when he wrote it, and nothing satisfi'd with what was begun, +left it unfinish'd. + + + +On Time. + + +FLY envious Time, till thou run out thy race, +Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, +Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace; +And glut thy self with what thy womb devours, +Which is no more then what is false and vain, +And meerly mortal dross; +So little is our loss, +So little is thy gain. +For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd, +And last of all, thy greedy self consum'd, 10 +Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss +With an individual kiss; +And Joy shall overtake us as a flood, +When every thing that is sincerely good +And perfectly divine, +With Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine +About the supreme Throne +Of him, t'whose happy-making sight alone, +When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime, +Then all this Earthy grosnes quit, 20 +Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit, +Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time. + +Note: See the appendix for the manuscript version. + + + +UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. + + +YE flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright, +That erst with Musick, and triumphant song +First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear, +So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along +Through the soft silence of the list'ning night; +Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear +Your fiery essence can distill no tear, +Burn in your sighs, and borrow +Seas wept from our deep sorrow, +He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whileare 10 +Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease; +Alas, how soon our sin +Sore doth begin +His Infancy to sease! + +O more exceeding love or law more just? +Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! +For we by rightfull doom remediles +Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above +High thron'd in secret bliss, for us frail dust +Emptied his glory, ev'n to nakednes; 20 +And that great Cov'nant which we still transgress +Intirely satisfi'd, +And the full wrath beside +Of vengeful Justice bore for our excess, +And seals obedience first with wounding smart +This day, but O ere long +Huge pangs and strong +Will pierce more neer his heart. + + + +AT A SOLEMN MUSICK. + + +BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy, +Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers, +Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ +Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce, +And to our high-rais'd phantasie present, +That undisturbed Song of pure content, +Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throne +To him that sits theron +With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily, +Where the bright Seraphim in burning row 10 +Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow, +And the Cherubick host in thousand quires +Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires, +With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms, +Hymns devout and holy Psalms +Singing everlastingly; +That we on Earth with undiscording voice +May rightly answer that melodious noise; +As once we did, till disproportion'd sin +Jarr'd against natures chime, and with harsh din 20 +The fair musick that all creatures made +To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd +In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood +In first obedience, and their state of good. +O may we soon again renew that Song, +And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long +To his celestial consort us unite, +To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light. + +Note: 6 content] Manuscript reads concent as does the Second +Edition; so that content is probably a misprint. + + + + +AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER. + + +THIS rich Marble doth enterr +The honour'd Wife of Winchester, +A Vicounts daughter, an Earls heir, +Besides what her vertues fair +Added to her noble birth, +More then she could own from Earth. +Summers three times eight save one +She had told, alas too soon, +After so short time of breath, +To house with darknes, and with death. 10 +Yet had the number of her days +Bin as compleat as was her praise, +Nature and fate had had no strife +In giving limit to her life. +Her high birth, and her graces sweet, +Quickly found a lover meet; +The Virgin quire for her request +The God that sits at marriage feast; +He at their invoking came +But with a scarce-wel-lighted flame; 20 +And in his Garland as he stood, +Ye might discern a Cipress bud. +Once had the early Matrons run +To greet her of a lovely son, +And now with second hope she goes, +And calls Lucina to her throws; +But whether by mischance or blame +Atropos for Lucina came; +And with remorsles cruelty, +Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree: 30 +The haples Babe before his birth +Had burial, yet not laid in earth, +And the languisht Mothers Womb +Was not long a living Tomb. +So have I seen som tender slip +Sav'd with care from Winters nip, +The pride of her carnation train, +Pluck't up by som unheedy swain, +Who onely thought to crop the flowr +New shot up from vernall showr; 40 +But the fair blossom hangs the head +Side-ways as on a dying bed, +And those Pearls of dew she wears, +Prove to be presaging tears +Which the sad morn had let fall +On her hast'ning funerall. +Gentle Lady may thy grave +Peace and quiet ever have; +After this thy travail sore +Sweet rest sease thee evermore, 50 +That to give the world encrease, +Shortned hast thy own lives lease; +Here besides the sorrowing +That thy noble House doth bring, +Here be tears of perfect moan +Weept for thee in Helicon, +And som Flowers, and som Bays, +For thy Hears to strew the ways, +Sent thee from the banks of Came, +Devoted to thy vertuous name; 60 +Whilst thou bright Saint high sit'st in glory, +Next her much like to thee in story, +That fair Syrian Shepherdess, +Who after yeers of barrennes, +The highly favour'd Joseph bore +To him that serv'd for her before, +And at her next birth much like thee, +Through pangs fled to felicity, +Far within the boosom bright +of blazing Majesty and Light, 70 +There with thee, new welcom Saint, +Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, +With thee there clad in radiant sheen, +No Marchioness, but now a Queen. + + + +SONG ON MAY MORNING. + + +Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger, +Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her +The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws +The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose. +Hail bounteous May that dost inspire +Mirth and youth, and warm desire, +Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing, +Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing. +Thus we salute thee with our early Song, +And welcom thee, and wish thee long. 10 + + + +ON SHAKESPEAR. 1630. + + +WHAT needs my Shakespear for his honour'd Bones, +The labour of an age in piled Stones, +Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid +Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid? +Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame, +What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name? +Thou in our wonder and astonishment +Hast built thy self a live-long Monument. +For whilst to th'sharne of slow-endeavouring art, +Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart 10 +Hath from the Leaves of thy unvalu'd Book, +Those Delphick lines with deep impression took, +Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving, +Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving; +And so Sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie, +That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die. + +Notes: On Shakespear. Reprinted 1632 in the second folio +Shakespeare: +Title] An epitaph on the admirable dramaticke poet W. +Shakespeare +1 needs] neede +6 weak] dull +8 live-long] lasting +10 heart] part +13 it] her + + + +ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER WHO SICKN'D IN THE TIME OF HIS +VACANCY, BEING FORBID TO GO TO LONDON, BY REASON OF THE +PLAGUE. + + +HERE lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt, +And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt, +Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one, +He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. +'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, +Death was half glad when he had got him down; +For he had any time this ten yeers full, +Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. +And surely, Death could never have prevail'd, +Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail'd; 10 +But lately finding him so long at home, +And thinking now his journeys end was come, +And that he had tane up his latest Inne, +In the kind office of a Chamberlin +Shew'd him his room where he must lodge that night, +Pull'd off his Boots, and took away the light: +If any ask for him, it shall be sed, +Hobson has supt, and 's newly gon to bed. + + + +ANOTHER ON THE SAME. + + +HERE lieth one who did most truly prove, +That he could never die while he could move, +So hung his destiny never to rot +While he might still jogg on, and keep his trot, +Made of sphear-metal, never to decay +Untill his revolution was at stay. +Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime +'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time: +And like an Engin mov'd with wheel and waight, +His principles being ceast, he ended strait. 10 +Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death, +And too much breathing put him out of breath; +Nor were it contradiction to affirm +Too long vacation hastned on his term. +Meerly to drive the time away he sickn'd, +Fainted, and died, nor would with Ale be quickn'd; +Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd, +If I may not carry, sure Ile ne're be fetch'd, +But vow though the cross Doctors all stood hearers, +For one Carrier put down to make six bearers. 20 +Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right, +He di'd for heavines that his Cart went light, +His leasure told him that his time was com, +And lack of load, made his life burdensom +That even to his last breath (ther be that say't) +As he were prest to death, he cry'd more waight; +But had his doings lasted as they were, +He had bin an immortall Carrier. +Obedient to the Moon he spent his date +In cours reciprocal, and had his fate 30 +Linkt to the mutual flowing of the Seas, +Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase: +His Letters are deliver'd all and gon, +Onely remains this superscription. + + + +L'ALLEGRO. + + +HENCE loathed Melancholy +Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born, +In Stygian Cave forlorn +'Mongst horrid shapes, and shreiks, and sights unholy, +Find out som uncouth cell, +Where brooding darknes spreads his jealous wings, +And the night-Raven sings; +There under Ebon shades and low-brow'd Rocks, +As ragged as thy Locks, +In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 +But com thou Goddes fair and free, +In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne, +And by men, heart-easing Mirth, +Whom lovely Venus at a birth +With two sister Graces more +To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore; +Or whether (as som Sager sing) +The frolick Wind that breathes the Spring, +Zephir with Aurora playing, +As he met her once a Maying, 20 +There on Beds of Violets blew, +And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew, +Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair, +So bucksom, blith, and debonair. +Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee +Jest and youthful Jollity, +Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, +Nods, and Becks, and Wreathed Smiles, +Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, +And love to live in dimple sleek; 30 +Sport that wrincled Care derides, +And Laughter holding both his sides. +Com, and trip it as ye go +On the light fantastick toe, +And in thy right hand lead with thee, +The Mountain Nymph, sweet Liberty; +And if I give thee honour due, +Mirth, admit me of thy crue +To live with her, and live with thee, +In unreproved pleasures free; 40 +To hear the Lark begin his flight, +And singing startle the dull night, +>From his watch-towre in the skies, +Till the dappled dawn doth rise; +Then to com in spight of sorrow, +And at my window bid good morrow, +Through the Sweet-Briar, or the Vine, +Or the twisted Eglantine. +While the Cock with lively din, +Scatters the rear of darknes thin, 50 +And to the stack, or the Barn dore, +Stoutly struts his Dames before, +Oft list'ning how the Hounds and horn +Chearly rouse the slumbring morn, +>From the side of som Hoar Hill, +Through the high wood echoing shrill. +Som time walking not unseen +By Hedge-row Elms, on Hillocks green, +Right against the Eastern gate, +Wher the great Sun begins his state, 60 +Rob'd in flames, and Amber light, +The clouds in thousand Liveries dight. +While the Plowman neer at hand, +Whistles ore the Furrow'd Land, +And the Milkmaid singeth blithe, +And the Mower whets his sithe, +And every Shepherd tells his tale +Under the Hawthorn in the dale. +Streit mine eye hath caught new pleasures +Whilst the Lantskip round it measures, 70 +Russet Lawns, and Fallows Gray, +Where the nibling flocks do stray, +Mountains on whose barren brest +The labouring clouds do often rest: +Meadows trim with Daisies pide, +Shallow Brooks, and Rivers wide. +Towers, and Battlements it sees +Boosom'd high in tufted Trees, +Wher perhaps som beauty lies, +The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. 80 +Hard by, a Cottage chimney smokes, +>From betwixt two aged Okes, +Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, +Are at their savory dinner set +Of Hearbs, and other Country Messes, +Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; +And then in haste her Bowre she leaves, +With Thestylis to bind the Sheaves; +Or if the earlier season lead +To the tann'd Haycock in the Mead, 90 +Som times with secure delight +The up-land Hamlets will invite, +When the merry Bells ring round, +And the jocond rebecks sound +To many a youth, and many a maid, +Dancing in the Chequer'd shade; +And young and old com forth to play +On a Sunshine Holyday, +Till the live-long day-light fail, +Then to the Spicy Nut-brown Ale, 100 +With stories told of many a feat, +How Faery Mab the junkets eat, +She was pincht, and pull'd she sed, +And he by Friars Lanthorn led +Tells how the drudging Goblin swet, +To ern his Cream-bowle duly set, +When in one night, ere glimps of morn, +His shadowy Flale hath thresh'd the Corn +That ten day-labourers could not end, +Then lies him down the Lubbar Fend. 110 +And stretch'd out all the Chimney's length, +Basks at the fire his hairy strength; +And Crop-full out of dores he flings, +Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings. +Thus don the Tales, to bed they creep, +By whispering Windes soon lull'd asleep. +Towred Cities please us then, +And the busie humm of men, +Where throngs of Knights and Barons bold, +In weeds of Peace high triumphs hold, 120 +With store of Ladies, whose bright eies +Rain influence, and judge the prise +Of Wit, or Arms, while both contend +To win her Grace, whom all commend. +There let Hymen oft appear +In Saffron robe, with Taper clear, +And pomp, and feast, and revelry, +With mask, and antique Pageantry, +Such sights as youthfull Poets dream +On Summer eeves by haunted stream. 130 +Then to the well-trod stage anon, +If Jonsons learned Sock be on, +Or sweetest Shakespear fancies childe, +Warble his native Wood-notes wilde, +And ever against eating Cares, +Lap me in soft Lydian Aires, +Married to immortal verse +Such as the meeting soul may pierce +In notes, with many a winding bout +Of lincked sweetnes long drawn out, 140 +With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, +The melting voice through mazes running; +Untwisting all the chains that ty +The hidden soul of harmony. +That Orpheus self may heave his head +>From golden slumber on a bed +Of heapt Elysian flowres, and hear +Such streins as would have won the ear +Of Pluto, to have quite set free +His half regain'd Eurydice. 150 +These delights, if thou canst give, +Mirth with thee, I mean to live. + +Notes: +33 Ye] You 1673 +104 And he by] And by the 1673 + + + +IL PENSEROSO. + + +Hence vain deluding joyes, +The brood of folly without father bred, +How little you bested, +Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes; +Dwell in som idle brain +And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, +As thick and numberless +As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams, +Or likest hovering dreams +The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train. 10 +But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy, +Hail divinest Melancholy +Whose Saintly visage is too bright +To hit the Sense of human sight; +And therefore to our weaker view, +Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue. +Black, but such as in esteem, +Prince Memnons sister might beseem, +Or that Starr'd Ethiope Queen that strove +To set her beauties praise above 20 +The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended. +Yet thou art higher far descended, +Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore, +To solitary Saturn bore; +His daughter she (in Saturns raign, +Such mixture was not held a stain) +Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades +He met her, and in secret shades +Of woody Ida's inmost grove, +While yet there was no fear of Jove. 30 +Com pensive Nun, devout and pure, +Sober, stedfast, and demure, +All in a robe of darkest grain, +Flowing with majestick train, +And sable stole of Cipres Lawn, +Over thy decent shoulders drawn. +Com, but keep thy wonted state, +With eev'n step, and musing gate, +And looks commercing with the skies, +Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: 40 +There held in holy passion still, +Forget thy self to Marble, till +With a sad Leaden downward cast, +Thou fix them on the earth as fast. +And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, +Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, +And hears the Muses in a ring, +Ay round about Joves Altar sing. +And adde to these retired Leasure, +That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure; 50 +But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, +Him that yon soars on golden wing, +Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, +The Cherub Contemplation, +And the mute Silence hist along, +'Less Philomel will daign a Song, +In her sweetest, saddest plight, +Smoothing the rugged brow of night, +While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke, +Gently o're th'accustom'd Oke; 60 +Sweet Bird that shunn'st the noise of folly +Most musical!, most melancholy! +Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among +I woo to hear thy eeven-Song; +And missing thee, I walk unseen +On the dry smooth-shaven Green, +To behold the wandring Moon, +Riding neer her highest noon, +Like one that had bin led astray +Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way; 70 +And oft, as if her head she bow'd, +Stooping through a fleecy cloud. +Oft on a Plat of rising ground, +I hear the far-off Curfeu sound, +Over som wide-water'd shoar, +Swinging slow with sullen roar; +Or if the Ayr will not permit, +Som still removed place will fit, +Where glowing Embers through the room +Teach light to counterfeit a gloom 80 +Far from all resort of mirth, +Save the Cricket on the hearth, +Or the Belmans drowsie charm, +To bless the dores from nightly harm: +Or let my Lamp at midnight hour, +Be seen in som high lonely Towr, +Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, +With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear +The spirit of Plato to unfold +What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold 90 +The immortal mind that hath forsook +Her mansion in this fleshly nook: +And of those Daemons that are found +In fire, air, flood, or under ground, +Whose power hath a true consent +With planet or with Element. +Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy +In Scepter'd Pall com sweeping by, +Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line, +Or the tale of Troy divine. 100 +Or what (though rare) of later age, +Ennobled hath the Buskind stage. +But, O sad Virgin, that thy power +Might raise Musaeus from his bower, +Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing +Such notes as warbled to the string, +Drew Iron tears down Pluto's cheek, +And made Hell grant what Love did seek. +Or call up him that left half told +The story of Cambuscan bold, 110 +Of Camball, and of Algarsife, +And who had Canace to wife, +That own'd the vertuous Ring and Glass, +And of the wondrous Hors of Brass, +On which the Tartar King did ride; +And if ought els, great Bards beside, +In sage and solemn tunes have sung, +Of Turneys and of Trophies hung; +Of Forests, and inchantments drear, +Where more is meant then meets the ear. 120 +Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, +Till civil-suited Morn appeer, +Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont, +With the Attick Boy to hunt, +But Cherchef't in a comly Cloud, +While rocking Winds are Piping loud, +Or usher'd with a shower still, +When the gust hath blown his fill, +Ending on the russling Leaves, +With minute drops from off the Eaves. 130 +And when the Sun begins to fling +His flaring beams, me Goddes bring +To arched walks of twilight groves, +And shadows brown that Sylvan loves +Of Pine, or monumental Oake, +Where the rude Ax with heaved stroke, +Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, +Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt. +There in close covert by som Brook, +Where no profaner eye may look, 140 +Hide me from Day's garish eie, +While the Bee with Honied thie, +That at her flowry work doth sing, +And the Waters murmuring +With such consort as they keep, +Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep; +And let som strange mysterious dream, +Wave at his Wings in Airy stream, +Of lively portrature display'd, +Softly on my eye-lids laid. 150 +And as I wake, sweet musick breath +Above, about, or underneath, +Sent by som spirit to mortals good, +Or th'unseen Genius of the Wood. +But let my due feet never fail, +To walk the studious Cloysters pale, +And love the high embowed Roof +With antick Pillars massy proof, +And storied Windows richly dight, +Casting a dimm religious light. 160 +There let the pealing Organ blow, +To the full voic'd Quire below, +In Service high, and Anthems cleer, +As may with sweetnes, through mine ear, +Dissolve me into extasies, +And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes. +And may at last my weary age +Find out the peacefull hermitage, +The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell, +Where I may sit and rightly spell 170 +Of every Star that Heav'n doth shew, +And every Herb that sips the dew; +Till old experience do attain +To somthing like prophetic strain. +These pleasures Melancholy give, +And I with thee will choose to live. + + + +SONNETS. + + +I + +O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray +Warbl'st at eeve, when all the Woods are still, +Thou with fresh hope the Lovers heart dost fill, +While the jolly hours lead on propitious May, +Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, +First heard before the shallow Cuccoo's bill +Portend success in love; O if Jove's will +Have linkt that amorous power to thy soft lay, +Now timely sing, ere the rude Bird of Hate +Foretell my hopeles doom in som Grove ny: 10 +As thou from yeer to yeer hast sung too late +For my relief; yet hadst no reason why, +Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate, +Both them I serve, and of their train am I. + +II + +Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora +L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco, +Ben e colui d'ogni valore scarco +Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora, +Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora +De suoi atti soavi giamai parco, +E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco, +La onde l' alta tua virtu s'infiora. +Quando tu vaga parli, O lieta canti +Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 10 +Guardi ciascun a gli occhi ed a gli orecchi +L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno; +Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti +Che'l disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi. + +III + +Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera +L'avezza giovinetta pastorella +Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella +Che mal si spande a disusata spera +Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, +Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella +Desta il fior novo di strania favella, +Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera, +Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso +E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno 10 +Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso +Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno. +Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno +A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. + +Canzone. + +Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi +M' occostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi, +Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana +Verseggiando d'amor, e conie t'osi ? +Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana +E de pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi; +Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi +Altri lidi t' aspettan, & altre onde +Nelle cui verdi sponde +Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 10 +L'immortal guiderdon d 'eterne frondi +Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma? +Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi +Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore +Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore. + +IV + +Diodati, e te'l diro con maraviglia, +Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar solea +E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea +Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia. +Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia +M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea +Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea, +Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia +Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil nero, +Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una, 10 +E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero +Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna, +E degil occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco +Che l 'incerar gli oreechi mi fia poco. + +V + +Per certo i bei vostr'occhi Donna mia +Esser non puo che non fian lo mio sole +Si mi percuoton forte, come ci suole +Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia, +Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) +Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, +Che forsi amanti nelle lor parole +Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia: +Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela +Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco 10 +Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela; +Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco +Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose +Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose. + +VI + +Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante +Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono, +Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono +Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante +L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante, +De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono; +Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono, +S 'arma di se, e d' intero diamante, +Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro, +Di timori, e speranze al popol use 10 +Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago, +E di cetra sonora, e delle muse: +Sol troverete in tal parte men duro +Ove amor mise l 'insanabil ago. + +VII +How soon hath Time the suttle theef of youth, +Stoln on his wing my three and twentith yeer ! +My hasting dayes flie on with full career, +But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th, +Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, +That I to manhood am arriv'd so near, +And inward ripenes doth much less appear, +That som more timely-happy spirits indu'th. +Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow. +It shall be still in strictest measure eev'n, 10 +To that same lot, however mean, or high, +Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n; +All is, if I have grace to use it so, +As ever in my great task Masters eye. + + +VIII + +Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms, +Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease, +If ever deed of honour did thee please, +Guard them, and him within protect from harms, +He can requite thee, for he knows the charms +That call Fame on such gentle acts as these, +And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas, +What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms. +Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre, +The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare 10 +The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre +Went to the ground: And the repeated air +Of sad Electra's Poet had the power +To save th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare. + +Notes: +Camb. autograph supplies title, When the assault was intended +to the city. +3 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 1673. + +IX + +Lady that in the prime of earliest youth, +Wisely hath shun'd the broad way and the green, +And with those few art eminently seen, +That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth, +The better part with Mary and with Ruth, +Chosen thou hast, and they that overween, +And at thy growing vertues fret their spleen, +No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. +Thy care is fixt and zealously attends +To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light, +And Hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure +Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastfull friends +Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, +Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. + +Note: 5 with Ruth] the Ruth 1645. + +X + +Daughter to that good Earl, once President +Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury, +Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee, +And left them both, more in himself content, +Till the sad breaking of that Parlament +Broke him, as that dishonest victory +At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty +Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent, +Though later born, then to have known the dayes +Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you 10 +Madam, me thinks I see him living yet; +So well your words his noble vertues praise, +That all both judge you to relate them true, +And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret. + +Note: Camb. autograph supplies title, To the Lady Margaret +Ley. + + + +ARCADES. + + +Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of +Darby at Harefield, by som Noble persons of her Family, who +appear on the Scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat +of State with this Song. + +I. SONG. + +LOOK Nymphs, and Shepherds look, +What sudden blaze of majesty +Is that which we from hence descry +Too divine to be mistook: +This this is she +To whom our vows and wishes bend, +Heer our solemn search hath end. + +Fame that her high worth to raise, +Seem'd erst so lavish and profuse, +We may justly now accuse 10 +Of detraction from her praise, +Less then half we find exprest, +Envy bid conceal the rest. + +Mark what radiant state she spreds, +In circle round her shining throne, +Shooting her beams like silver threds, +This this is she alone, +Sitting like a Goddes bright, +In the center of her light. +Might she the wise Latona be, 20 +Or the towred Cybele, +Mother of a hunderd gods; +Juno dare's not give her odds; +Who had thought this clime had held +A deity so unparalel'd? + +As they com forward, the genius of the Wood appears, and +turning toward them, speaks. + +GEN. Stay gentle Swains, for though in this disguise, +I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes, +Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung +Of that renowned flood, so often sung, +Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluse, 30 +Stole under Seas to meet his Arethuse; +And ye the breathing Roses of the Wood, +Fair silver-buskind Nymphs as great and good, +I know this quest of yours, and free intent +Was all in honour and devotion ment +To the great Mistres of yon princely shrine, +Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, +And with all helpful service will comply +To further this nights glad solemnity; +And lead ye where ye may more neer behold 40 +What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold; +Which I full oft amidst these shades alone +Have sate to wonder at, and gaze upon: +For know by lot from Jove I am the powr +Of this fair wood, and live in Oak'n bowr, +To nurse the Saplings tall, and curl the grove +With Ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. +And all my Plants I save from nightly ill, +Of noisom winds, and blasting vapours chill. +And from the Boughs brush off the evil dew, 50 +And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blew, +Or what the cross dire-looking Planet smites, +Or hurtfull Worm with canker'd venom bites. +When Eev'ning gray doth rise, I fetch my round +Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, +And early ere the odorous breath of morn +Awakes the slumbring leaves, or tasseld horn +Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about, +Number my ranks, and visit every sprout +With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless, 60 +But els in deep of night when drowsines +Hath lockt up mortal sense, then listen I +To the celestial Sirens harmony, +That sit upon the nine enfolded Sphears, +And sing to those that hold the vital shears, +And turn the Adamantine spindle round, +On which the fate of gods and men is wound. +Such sweet compulsion doth in musick ly, +To lull the daughters of Necessity, +And keep unsteddy Nature to her law, 70 +And the low world in measur'd motion draw +After the heavenly tune, which none can hear +Of human mould with grosse unpurged ear; +And yet such musick worthiest were to blaze +The peerles height of her immortal praise, +Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, +If my inferior hand or voice could hit +Inimitable sounds, yet as we go, +What ere the skill of lesser gods can show, +I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 80 +And so attend ye toward her glittering state; +Where ye may all that are of noble stemm +Approach, and kiss her sacred vestures hemm. + + +2. SONG. + +O're the smooth enameld green +Where no print of step hath been, +Follow me as I sing, +And touch the warbled string. +Under the shady roof +Of branching Elm Star-proof, +Follow me, 90 +I will bring you where she sits +Clad in splendor as befits +Her deity. +Such a rural Queen +All Arcadia hath not seen. + + +3. SONG. + +Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more +By sandy Ladons Lillied banks. +On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar, +Trip no more in twilight ranks, +Though Erynanth your loss deplore, 100 +A better soyl shall give ye thanks. +>From the stony Maenalus, +Bring your Flocks, and live with us, +Here ye shall have greater grace, +To serve the Lady of this place. +Though Syrinx your Pans Mistres were, +Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. +Such a rural Queen +All Arcadia hath not seen. + +Note: 22 hunderd] Milton's own spelling here is hundred. But in +the Errata to Paradise Lost (i. 760) he corrects hundred to hunderd. + + + +Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Lycidas follows: + + + JUSTA + EDOVARDO KING + naufrago, + ab + Amicis Moerentibus, + amoris + & + mneias chaein +------------------------------------------------------------ +------------------------------------------------------------ + Sirecte calculam ponas, ubique naufragium est. + Pet. Arb. +------------------------------------------------------------ +------------------------------------------------------------ + CANTABRIGIAE: + Apud Thomam Buck, & Rogerum Daniel, celeberrimae + Academiae typographos. 1638. + + + +LYCIDAS. + + +In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, +unfortunatly drown'd in his Passage from Chester on the Irish +Seas, 1637. And by occasion foretels the ruine of our +corrupted Clergy then in their height. + +YET once more, O ye Laurels, and once more +Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-sear, +I com to pluck your Berries harsh and crude, +And with forc'd fingers rude, +Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. +Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, +Compels me to disturb your season due: +For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime +Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer: +Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew +Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 10 +He must not flote upon his watry bear +Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, +Without the meed of som melodious tear. + +Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, +That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring, +Begin, and somwhat loudly sweep the string. +Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse, +So may som gentle Muse +With lucky words favour my destin'd Urn, 20 +And as he passes turn, +And bid fair peace be to my sable shrowd. +For we were nurst upon the self-same hill, +Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. + +Together both, ere the high Lawns appear'd +Under the opening eye-lids of the morn, +We drove a field and both together heard +What time the Gray-fly winds her sultry horn, +Batt'ning our flocks with the fresh dews of night, +Oft till the Star that rose, at Ev'ning, bright 30 +Toward Heav'ns descent had slop'd his westering wheel. +Mean while the Rural ditties were not mute, +Temper'd to th'Oaten Flute; +Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with clov'n heel, +>From the glad sound would not be absent long, +And old Damoetas lov'd to hear our song. + +But O the heavy change, now thou art gon, +Now thou art gon, and never must return! +Thee Shepherd, thee the Woods, and desert Caves, +With wilde Thyme and the gadding Vine o'regrown, 40 +And all their echoes mourn. +The Willows, and the Hazle Copses green, +Shall now no more be seen, +Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft layes. +As killing as the Canker to the Rose, +Or Taint-worm to the weanling Herds that graze, +Or Frost to Flowers, that their gay wardrop wear, +When first the White thorn blows; +Such, Lycidas, thy loss to Shepherds ear. + +Where were ye Nymphs when the remorseless deep 50 +Clos'd o're the head of your lov'd Lycidas? +For neither were ye playing on the steep, +Where your old Bards, the famous Druids ly, +Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, +Nor yet where Deva spreads her wisard stream: +Ay me, I fondly dream! +Had ye bin there -- for what could that have don? +What could the Muse her self that Orpheus bore, +The Muse her self, for her inchanting son +Whom Universal nature did lament, 60 +When by the rout that made the hideous roar, +His goary visage down the stream was sent, +Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore. + +Alas! What boots it with uncessant care +To tend the homely slighted Shepherds trade, +And strictly meditate the thankles Muse, +Were it not better don as others use, +To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, +Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? +Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 +(That last infirmity of Noble mind) +To scorn delights, and live laborious dayes: +But the fair Guerdon when we hope to find, +And think to burst out into sudden blaze. +Comes the blind Fury with th'abhorred shears, +And slits the thin spun life. But not the praise, +Phoebus repli'd, and touch'd my trembling ears; +Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, +Nor in the glistering foil +Set off to th'world, nor in broad rumour lies, 80 +But lives and spreds aloft by those pure eyes, +And perfet witnes of all judging Jove; +As he pronounces lastly on each deed, +Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed. + +O Fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd floud, +Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocall reeds, +That strain I heard was of a higher mood: +But now my Oate proceeds, +And listens to the Herald of the Sea +That came in Neptune's plea, 90 +He ask'd the Waves, and ask'd the Fellon winds, +What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain? +And question'd every gust of rugged wings +That blows from off each beaked Promontory, +They knew not of his story, +And sage Hippotades their answer brings, +That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd, +The Ayr was calm, and on the level brine, +Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. +It was that fatall and perfidious Bark 100 +Built in th'eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, +That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. + +Next Camus, reverend Sire, went footing slow, +His Mantle hairy, and his Bonnet sedge, +Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge +Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe. +Ah; Who hath reft (quoth he) my dearest pledge? +Last came, and last did go, +The Pilot of the Galilean lake, +Two massy Keyes he bore of metals twain, 110 +(The Golden opes, the Iron shuts amain) +He shook his Miter'd locks, and stern bespake, +How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain, +Anow of such as for their bellies sake, +Creep and intrude, and climb into the fold? +Of other care they little reck'ning make, +Then how to scramble at the shearers feast, +And shove away the worthy bidden guest. +Blind mouthes! that scarce themselves know how to hold +A Sheep-hook, or have learn'd ought els the least 120 +That to the faithfull Herdmans art belongs! +What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; +And when they list, their lean and flashy songs +Grate on their scrannel Pipes of wretched straw, +The hungry Sheep look up, and are not fed, +But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, +Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: +Besides what the grim Woolf with privy paw +Daily devours apace, and nothing sed, +But that two-handed engine at the door, 130 +Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. + +Return Alpheus, the dread voice is past, +That shrunk thy streams; Return Sicilian Muse, +And call the Vales, and bid them hither cast +Their Bels, and Flourets of a thousand hues. +Ye valleys low where the milde whispers use, +Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, +On whose fresh lap the swart Star sparely looks, +Throw hither all your quaint enameld eyes, +That on the green terf suck the honied showres, 140 +And purple all the ground with vernal flowres. +Bring the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies. +The tufted Crow-toe, and pale Gessamine, +The white Pink, and the Pansie freakt with jeat, +The glowing Violet. +The Musk-rose, and the well attir'd Woodbine. +With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive hed, +And every flower that sad embroidery wears: +Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed, +Daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150 +And strew the Laureat Herse where Lycid lies. +For so to interpose a little ease, +Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. +Ah me! Whilst thee the shores, and sounding Seas +Wash far away, where ere thy bones are hurl'd +Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides. +Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide +Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world; +Or whether thou to our moist vows deny'd, +Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160 +Where the great vision of the guarded Mount +Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold; +Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth. +And, O ye Dolphins, waft the haples youth. + +Weep no more, woful Shepherds weep no more, +For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, +Sunk though he be beneath the watry floar, +So sinks the day-star in the Ocean bed, +And yet anon repairs his drooping head, +And tricks his beams, and with new spangled Ore, 170 +Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: +So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, +Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves +Where other groves, and other streams along, +With Nectar pure his oozy Lock's he laves, +And hears the unexpressive nuptiall Song, +In the blest Kingdoms meek of joy and love. +There entertain him all the Saints above, +In solemn troops, and sweet Societies +That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180 +And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. +Now Lycidas the Shepherds weep no more; +Hence forth thou art the Genius of the shore, +In thy large recompense and shalt be good +To all that wander in that perilous flood. + +Thus sang the uncouth Swain to th'Okes and rills, +While the still morn went out with Sandals gray, +He touch'd the tender stops of various Quills, +With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay: +And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, 190 +And now was dropt into the Western bay; +At last he rose, and twitch'd his Mantle blew: +To morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new. + +Notes: + 64 uncessant] Manuscript reads incessant, so that uncessant +is probably a misprint; though that spelling is retained in the Second +Edition. + 82 perfet] So in Comus, line 203. In both these places +the manuscript has perfect, as elsewhere where the word occurs. In +the Solemn Music, line 23, where the First Edition reads perfect, +the second reads perfet. +149 Amaranthus] Amarantus + + + +Transcriber's note: Facsimile of Title page of Comus follows: + + A MASKE + PRESENTED + At Ludlow Castle, + 1634: + + On Michalemasse night, before the + RIGHT HONORABLE, + IOHN Earle of Bridgewater, Viscount Brackly, + Lord President of WALES, and one of + His MAIESTIES most honorable + Privie Counsell. + +------------------------------------------------------------ + Eheu quid volui misero mihi! floribus austrum + Perditus ------------------ +------------------------------------------------------------ + + LONDON + Printed for HYMPHREY ROBINSON + at the signe of the Three Pidgeons in + Pauls Church-yard. 1637. + + + +To the Right Honourable, John Lord Vicount Bracly, Son and +Heir apparent to the Earl of Bridgewater, &c. + + +My LORD, + +This Poem, which receiv'd its first occasion of Birth from your +Self, and others of your Noble Family, and much honour from +your own Person in the performance, now returns again to +make a finall Dedication of it self to you. Although not openly +acknowledg'd by the Author, yet it is a legitimate off-spring, so +lovely, and so much desired, that the often Copying of it hath +tired my Pen to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought +me to a necessity of producing it to the publike view; and now +to offer it up in all rightfull devotion to those fair Hopes, and +rare endowments of your much-promising Youth, which give a +full assurance, to all that know you, of a future excellence. Live +sweet Lord to be the honour of your Name, and receive this as +your own, from the hands of him, who hath by many favours +been long oblig'd to your most honour'd Parents, and as in this +representation your attendant Thyrsis, so now in all reall +expression + +Your faithfull, and most humble Servant + +H. LAWES. + + +Note: Dedication to Vicount Bracly: Omitted in 1673. + + + +The Copy of a Letter writt'n by Sir HENRY WOOTTON, to +the Author, upon the following Poem. + + +>From the Colledge, this 13. of April, 1638. + +SIR, +It was a special favour, when you lately bestowed upon me +here, the first taste of your acquaintance, though no longer then +to make me know that I wanted more time to value it, and to +enjoy it rightly; and in truth, if I could then have imagined your +farther stay in these parts, which I understood afterwards by +Mr. H. I would have been bold in our vulgar phrase to mend my +draught (for you left me with an extreme thirst) and to have +begged your conversation again, joyntly with your said learned +Friend, at a poor meal or two, that we might have banded +together som good Authors of the antient time: Among which, I +observed you to have been familiar. + +Since your going, you have charg'd me with new Obligations, +both for a very kinde Letter from you dated the sixth of this +Month, and for a dainty peece of entertainment which came +therwith. Wherin I should much commend the Tragical part, if +the Lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Dorique delicacy in +your Songs and Odes, wherunto I must plainly confess to have +seen yet nothing parallel in our Language: Ipsa mollities. +But I must not omit to tell you, that I now onely owe you +thanks for intimating unto me (how modestly soever) the true +Artificer. For the work it self I had view'd som good while +before, with singular delight, having receiv'd it from our +common Friend Mr. R. in the very close of the late R's Poems, +Printed at Oxford, wherunto it was added (as I now suppose) +that the Accessory might help out the Principal, according to +the Art of Stationers, and to leave the Reader Con la bocca +dolce. + +Now Sir, concerning your travels, wherin I may challenge a +little more priviledge of Discours with you; I suppose you will +not blanch Paris in your way; therfore I have been bold to +trouble you with a few lines to Mr. M. B. whom you shall easily +find attending the young Lord S. as his Governour, and you +may surely receive from him good directions for the shaping of +your farther journey into Italy, where he did reside by my choice +som time for the King, after mine own recess from Venice. + +I should think that your best Line will be thorow the whole +length of France to Marseilles, and thence by Sea to Genoa, +whence the passage into Tuscany is as Diurnal as a Gravesend +Barge: I hasten as you do to Florence, or Siena, the rather tell +you a short story from the interest you have given me in your +safety. + +At Siena I was tabled in the House of one Alberto Scipioni, an +old Roman Courtier in dangerous times, having bin Steward to +the Duca di Pagliano, who with all his Family were strangled +save this onely man that escap'd by foresight of the Tempest: +With him I had often much chat of those affairs; Into which he +took pleasure to look back from his Native Harbour: and at my +departure toward Rome (which had been the center of his +experience) I had wonn confidence enough to beg his advice, +how I might carry my self securely there, without offence of +mine own conscience. Signor Arrigo mio (sayes he) I pensieri +stretti, & il viso sciolto, will go safely over the whole World: Of +which Delphian Oracle (for so I have found it) your judgement +doth need no commentary; and therfore (Sir) I will commit you +with it to the best of all securities, Gods dear love, remaining + +Your Friend as much at command as any of longer date, + +Henry Wootton. + +Postscript. + +SIR, I have expressly sent this my Foot-boy to prevent your +departure without som acknowledgement from me of the +receipt of your obliging Letter, having myself through som +busines, I know not how, neglected the ordinary conveyance. +In any part where I shall understand you fixed, I shall be glad, +and diligent to entertain you with Home-Novelties; even for +som fomentation of our friendship, too soon interrupted in the +Cradle. + +Note: Letter from Sir Henry Wootton: Omitted in 1673 + + + +A MASK PRESENTED At LUDLOW-Castle, 1634. &c. + + +The Persons. + +The attendant Spirit afterwards in the habit of Thyrsis. +Comus with his crew. +The Lady. +1. Brother. +2. Brother. +Sabrina the Nymph. + +The cheif persons which presented, were +The Lord Bracly. +Mr. Thomas Egerton his Brother, +The Lady Alice Egerton. + + +The first Scene discovers a wilde Wood. + +The attendant Spirit descends or enters. + +Spir: Before the starry threshold of Joves Court +My mansion is, where those immortal shapes +Of bright aereal Spirits live insphear'd +In Regions milde of calm and serene Ayr, +Above the smoak and stirr of this dim spot, +Which men call Earth, and with low-thoughted care +Confin'd, and pester'd in this pin-fold here, +Strive to keep up a frail, and Feaverish being +Unmindfull of the crown that Vertue gives +After this mortal change, to her true Servants 10 +Amongst the enthron'd gods on Sainted seats. +Yet som there he that by due steps aspire +To lay their just hands on that Golden Key +That ope's the Palace of Eternity: +To such my errand is, and but for such, +I would not soil these pure Ambrosial weeds, +With the rank vapours of this Sin-worn mould. +But to my task. Neptune besides the sway +Of every salt Flood, and each ebbing Stream, +Took in by lot 'twixt high, and neather Jove, 20 +Imperial rule of all the Sea-girt Iles +That like to rich, and various gemms inlay +The unadorned boosom of the Deep, +Which he to grace his tributary gods +By course commits to severall government, +And gives them leave to wear their Saphire crowns, +And weild their little tridents, but this Ile +The greatest, and the best of all the main +He quarters to his blu-hair'd deities, +And all this tract that fronts the falling Sun 30 +A noble Peer of mickle trust, and power +Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide +An old, and haughty Nation proud in Arms: +Where his fair off-spring nurs't in Princely lore, +Are coming to attend their Fathers state, +And new-entrusted Scepter, but their way +Lies through the perplex't paths of this drear Wood, +The nodding horror of whose shady brows +Threats the forlorn and wandring Passinger. +And here their tender age might suffer perill, 40 +But that by quick command from Soveran Jove +I was dispatcht for their defence, and guard; +And listen why, for I will tell ye now +What never yet was heard in Tale or Song +>From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr. +Bacchus that first from out the purple Grape, +Crush't the sweet poyson of mis-used Wine +After the Tuscan Mariners transform'd +Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, +On Circes Hand fell (who knows not Circe 50 +The daughter of the Sun? Whose charmed Cup +Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, +And downward fell into a groveling Swine) +This Nymph that gaz'd upon his clustring locks, +With Ivy berries wreath'd, and his blithe youth, +Had by him, ere he parted thence, a Son +Much like his Father, but his Mother more, +Whom therfore she brought up and Comus named, +Who ripe, and frolick of his full grown age, +Roving the Celtic, and Iberian fields, 60 +At last betakes him to this ominous Wood, +And in thick shelter of black shades imbowr'd, +Excells his Mother at her mighty Art, +Offring to every weary Travailer, +His orient liquor in a Crystal Glasse, +To quench the drouth of Phoebus, which as they taste +(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst ) +Soon as the Potion works, their human count'nance, +Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd +Into som brutish form of Woolf, or Bear, 70 +Or Ounce, or Tiger, Hog, or bearded Goat, +All other parts remaining as they were, +And they, so perfect is their misery, +Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, +But boast themselves more comely then before +And all their friends, and native home forget +To roule with pleasure in a sensual stie. +Therfore when any favour'd of high Jove, +Chances to pass through this adventrous glade, +Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star, 80 +I shoot from Heav'n to give him safe convoy, +As now I do: But first I must put off +These my skie robes spun out of Iris Wooff, +And take the Weeds and likenes of a Swain, +That to the service of this house belongs, +Who with his soft Pipe, and smooth-dittied Song, +Well knows to still the wilde winds when they roar, +And hush the waving Woods, nor of lesse faith, +And in this office of his Mountain watch, +Likeliest, and neerest to the present ayd 90 +Of this occasion. But I hear the tread +Of hatefull steps, I must be viewles now. + +Comus enters with a Charming Rod in one hand, his Glass in +the other, with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts +of wilde Beasts, but otherwise like Men and Women, their +Apparel glistring, they come in making a riotous and unruly +noise, with Torches in their hands. + +Co: The Star that bids the Shepherd fold, +Now the top of Heav'n doth hold, +And the gilded Car of Day, +His glowing Axle doth allay +In the steep Atlantick stream, +And the slope Sun his upward beam +Shoots against the dusky Pole, +Pacing toward the other gole 100 +Of his Chamber in the East. +Meanwhile welcom Joy, and Feast, +Midnight shout, and revelry, +Tipsie dance, and Jollity. +Braid your Locks with rosie Twine +Dropping odours, dropping Wine. +Rigor now is gon to bed, +And Advice with scrupulous head, +Strict Age, and sowre Severity, +With their grave Saws in slumber ly. 110 +We that are of purer fire +Imitate the Starry Quire, +Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears, +Lead in swift round the Months and Years. +The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove +Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move, +And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves, +Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves; +By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim, +The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim, 120 +Their merry wakes and pastimes keep: +What hath night to do with sleep? +Night hath better sweets to prove, +Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love. +Com let us our rights begin, +'Tis onely day-light that makes Sin +Which these dun shades will ne're report. +Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport +Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame +Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame 130 +That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom +Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom, +And makes one blot of all the ayr, +Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair, +Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend +Us thy vow'd Priests, til utmost end +Of all thy dues be done, and none left out, +Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, +The nice Morn on th' Indian steep +>From her cabin'd loop hole peep, 140 +And to the tel-tale Sun discry +Our conceal'd Solemnity. +Com, knit hands, and beat the ground, +In a light fantastick round. + +The Measure. + +Break off; break off, I feel the different pace, +Of som chast footing neer about this ground. +Run to your shrouds, within these Brakes and Trees, +Our number may affright: Som Virgin sure +(For so I can distinguish by mine Art) +Benighted in these Woods. Now to my charms, 150 +And to my wily trains, I shall e're long +Be well stock't with as fair a herd as graz'd +About my Mother Circe. Thus I hurl +My dazling Spells into the spungy ayr, +Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, +And give it false presentments, lest the place +And my quaint habits breed astonishment, +And put the Damsel to suspicious flight, +Which must not be, for that's against my course; +I under fair pretence of friendly ends, 160 +And well plac't words of glozing courtesie +Baited with reasons not unplausible +Wind me into the easie-hearted man, +And hugg him into snares. When once her eye +Hath met the vertue of this Magick dust, +I shall appear som harmles Villager +Whom thrift keeps up about his Country gear, +But here she comes, I fairly step aside, +And hearken, if I may, her busines here. + +The Lady enters. + +La: This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 170 +My best guide now, me thought it was the sound +Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment, +Such as the jocond Flute, or gamesom Pipe +Stirs up among the loose unleter'd Hinds, +When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full +In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, +And thank the gods amiss. I should he loath +To meet the rudenesse, and swill'd insolence +of such late Wassailers; yet O where els +Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 180 +In the blind mazes of this tangl'd Wood? +My Brothers when they saw me wearied out +With this long way, resolving here to lodge +Under the spreading favour of these Pines, +Stept as they se'd to the next Thicket side +To bring me Berries, or such cooling fruit +As the kind hospitable Woods provide. +They left me then. when the gray-hooded Eev'n +Like a sad Votarist in Palmers weed +Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain. 190 +But where they are, and why they came not back, +Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliest +They had ingag'd their wandring steps too far, +And envious darknes, e're they could return, +Had stole them from me, els O theevish Night +Why shouldst thou, but for som fellonious end, +In thy dark lantern thus close up the Stars, +That nature hung in Heav'n, and fill'd their Lamps +With everlasting oil, to give due light +To the misled and lonely Travailer? 200 +This is the place as well as I may guess, +Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth +Was rife and perfect in my list'ning ear, +Yet nought but single darknes do I find. +What might this be? A thousand fantasies +Begin to throng into my memory +Of calling shapes, and beckning shadows dire, +And airy tongues, that syllable mens names +On Sands and Shoars and desert Wildernesses. +These thoughts may startle well, but not astound 210 +The vertuous mind that ever walks attended +By a strong siding champion Conscience.-- +O welcom pure-ey'd Faith, white-handed Hope, +Thou hovering Angel girt with golden wings. +And thou unblemish't form of Chastity, +I see ye visibly and now beleeve +That he, the Supreme good t'whom all things ill +Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, +Would send a glistring Guardian if need were +To keep my life and honour unassail'd. 220 +Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud +Turn forth her silver lining on the night? +I did not err, there does a sable cloud +Turn forth her silver lining on the night, +And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove. +I cannot hallow to my Brothers, but +Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest +Ile venter, for my new enliv'nd spirits +Prompt me; and they perhaps are not far off. + +SONG. + +Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseen 230 +Within thy airy shell +By slow Meander's margent green, +And in the violet imbroider'd vale +Where the love-lorn Nightingale +Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well. +Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair +That likest thy Narcissus are? +O if thou have +Hid them in som flowry Cave, +Tell me but where 240 +Sweet Queen of Parly, Daughter of the Sphear, +So maist thou be translated to the skies, +And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies. + +Co: Can any mortal mixture of Earths mould +Breath such Divine inchanting ravishment? +Sure somthing holy lodges in that brest, +And with these raptures moves the vocal air +To testifie his hidd'n residence; +How sweetly did they float upon the wings +Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night 250 +At every fall smoothing the Raven doune +Of darknes till it smil'd: I have oft heard +My mother Circe with the Sirens three, +Amid'st the flowry-kirtl'd Naiades +Culling their Potent hearbs, and balefull drugs. +Who as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, +And lap it in Elysium, Scylla wept, +And chid her barking waves into attention. +And fell Charybdis murmur'd soft applause: +Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, 260 +And in sweet madnes rob'd it of it self, +But such a sacred, and home-felt delight, +Such sober certainty of waking bliss +I never heard till now. Ile speak to her +And she shall be my Queen. Hail forren wonder +Whom certain these rough shades did never breed +Unlesse the Goddes that in rurall shrine +Dwell'st here with Pan, or Silvan, by blest Song +Forbidding every bleak unkindly Fog +To touch the prosperous growth of this tall Wood. 270 + +La: Nay gentle Shepherd ill is lost that praise +That is addrest to unattending Ears, +Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift +How to regain my sever'd company +Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo +To give me answer from her mossie Couch. + +Co: What chance good Lady hath bereft you thus? + +La: Dim darknes, and this heavy Labyrinth. + +Co: Could that divide you from neer-ushering guides? + +La: They left me weary on a grassie terf. 280 + +Co: By falshood. or discourtesie, or why? + +La: To seek in vally som cool friendly Spring. + +Co: And left your fair side all unguarded Lady? + +La: They were but twain, and purpos'd quick return. + +Co: Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them. + +La: How easie my misfortune is to hit ! + +Co: Imports their loss, beside the present need? + +La: No less then if I should my brothers loose. + +Co: Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom? + +La: As smooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips. 290 + +Co: Two such I saw, what time the labour'd Oxe +In his loose traces from the furrow came, +And the swink't hedger at his Supper sate; +I saw them under a green mantling vine +That crawls along the side of yon small hill, +Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots, +Their port was more then human, as they stood; +I took it for a faery vision +Of som gay creatures of the element +That in the colours of the Rainbow live 300 +And play i'th plighted clouds. I was aw-strook, +And as I past, I worshipt: if those you seek +It were a journey like the path to Heav'n, +To help you find them. La: Gentle villager +What readiest way would bring me to that place? + +Co: Due west it rises from this shrubby point. + +La: To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose, +In such a scant allowance of Star-light, +Would overtask the best Land-Pilots art, +Without the sure guess of well-practiz'd feet, 310 + +Co: I know each lane, and every alley green +Dingle, or bushy dell of this wilde Wood, +And every bosky bourn from side to side +My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood, +And if your stray attendance be yet lodg'd, +Or shroud within these limits, I shall know +Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark +>From her thatch't pallat rowse, if otherwise +I can conduct you Lady to a low +But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 320 +Till further quest. + La: Shepherd I take thy word, +And trust thy honest offer'd courtesie, +Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds +With smoaky rafters, then in tapstry Halls +And Courts of Princes, where it first was nam'd, +And yet is most pretended: In a place +Less warranted then this, or less secure +I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. +Eie me blest Providence, and square my triall +To my proportion'd strength. Shepherd lead on.-- 330 + +The Two Brothers. + +Eld. Bro: Unmuffle ye faint stars, and thou fair Moon +That wontst to love the travailers benizon, +Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, +And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here +In double night of darknes, and of shades; +Or if your influence be quite damm'd up +With black usurping mists, som gentle taper +Though a rush Candle from the wicker hole +Of som clay habitation visit us +With thy long levell'd rule of streaming light. 340 +And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, +Or Tyrian Cynosure. + 2. Bro: Or if our eyes +Be barr'd that happines, might we but hear +The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes, +Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, +Or whistle from the Lodge, or village cock +Count the night watches to his feathery Dames, +'Twould be som solace yet, som little chearing +In this close dungeon of innumerous bowes. +But O that haples virgin our lost sister 350 +Where may she wander now, whether betake her +>From the chill dew, amongst rude burrs and thistles? +Perhaps som cold bank is her boulster now +Or 'gainst the rugged bark of som broad Elm +Leans her unpillow'd head fraught with sad fears. +What if in wild amazement, and affright, +Or while we speak within the direfull grasp +Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat? + +Eld. Bro: Peace brother, be not over-exquisite +To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; 360 +For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, +What need a man forestall his date of grief +And run to meet what he would most avoid? +Or if they be but false alarms of Fear, +How bitter is such self delusion? +I do not think my sister so to seek, +Or so unprincipl'd in vertues book, +And the sweet peace that goodnes boosoms ever, +As that the single want of light and noise +(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 370 +Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, +And put them into mis-becoming plight. +Vertue could see to do what vertue would +By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon +Were in the salt sea sunk. And Wisdoms self +Oft seeks to sweet retired Solitude, +Where with her best nurse Contemplation +She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings +That in the various bustle of resort +Were all too ruffled and sometimes impaired. 380 +He that has light within his own deer brest +May sit i'th center, and enjoy bright day, +But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts +Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun; +Himself is his own dungeon. + +2. Bro: Tis most true +That musing meditation most affects +The pensive secrecy of desert cell, +Far from the cheerfull haunt of men, and herds, +And sits as safe as in a Senat house, +For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds, 390 +His few Books, or his Beads, or Maple Dish, +Or do his gray hairs any violence? +But beauty like the fair Hesperian Tree +Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard +Of dragon watch with uninchanted eye, +To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit +>From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. +You may as well spred out the unsun'd heaps +Of Misers treasure by an out-laws den, +And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 400 +Danger will wink on Opportunity, +And let a single helpless maiden pass +Uninjur'd in this wilde surrounding wast. +Of night, or lonelines it recks me not, +I fear the dred events that dog them both, +Lest som ill greeting touch attempt the person +Of our unowned sister. + +Eld. Bro: I do not, brother, +Inferr, as if I thought my sisters state +Secure without all doubt, or controversie: +Yet where an equall poise of hope and fear 410 +Does arbitrate th'event, my nature is +That I encline to hope, rather then fear, +And gladly banish squint suspicion. +My sister is not so defenceless left +As you imagine, she has a hidden strength +Which you remember not. + +2. Bro: What hidden strength, +Unless the strength of Heav'n, if you mean that? + +ELD Bro: I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength +Which if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own: +'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity: 420 +She that has that, is clad in compleat steel, +And like a quiver'd Nymph with Arrows keen +May trace huge Forests, and unharbour'd Heaths, +Infamous Hills, and sandy perilous wildes, +Where through the sacred rayes of Chastity, +No savage fierce, Bandite, or mountaneer +Will dare to soyl her Virgin purity, +Yea there, where very desolation dwels +By grots, and caverns shag'd with horrid shades, +She may pass on with unblench't majesty, 430 +Be it not don in pride, or in presumption. +Som say no evil thing that walks by night +In fog, or fire, by lake, or moorish fen, +Blew meager Hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, +That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time, +No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, +Hath hurtfull power o're true virginity. +Do ye beleeve me yet, or shall I call +Antiquity from the old Schools of Greece +To testifie the arms of Chastity? 440 +Hence had the huntress Dian her dred bow +Fair silver-shafted Queen for ever chaste, +Wherwith she tam'd the brinded lioness +And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought +The frivolous bolt of Cupid, gods and men +Fear'd her stern frown, and she was queen oth' Woods. +What was that snaky-headed Gorgon sheild +That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd Virgin, +Wherwith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone? +But rigid looks of Chast austerity, 450 +And noble grace that dash't brute violence +With sudden adoration, and blank aw. +So dear to Heav'n is Saintly chastity, +That when a soul is found sincerely so, +A thousand liveried Angels lacky her, +Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, +And in cleer dream, and solemn vision +Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, +Till oft convers with heav'nly habitants +Begin to cast a beam on th'outward shape, 460 +The unpolluted temple of the mind. +And turns it by degrees to the souls essence, +Till all be made immortal: but when lust +By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, +But most by leud and lavish act of sin, +Lets in defilement to the inward parts, +The soul grows clotted by contagion, +Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite loose +The divine property of her first being. +Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 470 +Oft seen in Charnell vaults, and Sepulchers +Lingering, and sitting by a new made grave, +As loath to leave the body that it lov'd, +And link't it self by carnal sensualty +To a degenerate and degraded state. + +2. Bro: How charming is divine Philosophy ! +Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose, +But musical as is Apollo's lute, +And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, +Where no crude surfet raigns. + Eld. Bro: List, list, I hear 480 +Som far off hallow break the silent Air. + +2. Bro: Me thought so too; what should it be? + +Eld. Bro: For certain +Either som one like us night-founder'd here, +Or els som neighbour Wood-man, or at worst, +Som roaving robber calling to his fellows. + +2. Bro: Heav'n keep my sister, agen agen and neer, +Best draw, and stand upon our guard. + +Eld. Bro: Ile hallow, +If he be friendly he comes well, if not, +Defence is a good cause, and Heav'n be for us. + +[Enter] The attendant Spirit habited like a Shepherd. + +That hallow I should know, what are you? speak; 490 +Com not too neer, you fall on iron stakes else. + +Spir: What voice is that, my young Lord? speak agen. + +2. Bro: O brother, 'tis my father Shepherd sure. + +Eld. Bro: Thyrsis? Whose artful strains have oft delaid +The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, +And sweeten'd every muskrose of the dale, +How cam'st thou here good Swain? hath any ram +Slip't from the fold, or young Kid lost his dam, +Or straggling weather the pen't flock forsook? +How couldst thou find this dark sequester'd nook? 500 + +Spir: O my lov'd masters heir, and his next joy, +I came not here on such a trivial toy +As a stray'd Ewe, or to pursue the stealth +Of pilfering Woolf, not all the fleecy wealth +That doth enrich these Downs, is worth a thought +To this my errand, and the care it brought. +But O my Virgin Lady, where is she? +How chance she is not in your company? + +Eld. Bro: To tell thee sadly Shepherd, without blame +Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 510 + +Spir: Ay me unhappy then my fears are true. + +Eld. Bro: What fears good Thyrsis? Prethee briefly shew. + +Spir: Ile tell ye, 'tis not vain or fabulous, +(Though so esteem'd by shallow ignorance) +What the sage Poets taught by th' heav'nly Muse, +Storied of old in high immortal vers +Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles, +And rifted Rocks whose entrance leads to hell, +For such there be, but unbelief is blind. +Within the navil of this hideous Wood, 520 +Immur'd in cypress shades a Sorcerer dwels +Of Bacchus, and of Circe born, great Comus, +Deep skill'd in all his mothers witcheries, +And here to every thirsty wanderer, +By sly enticement gives his banefull cup, +With many murmurs mixt, whose pleasing poison +The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, +And the inglorious likenes of a beast +Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage +Character'd in the Face; this have I learn't 530 +Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts, +That brow this bottom glade, whence night by night +He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl +Like stabl'd wolves, or tigers at their prey, +Doing abhorred rites to Hecate +In their obscured haunts of inmost bowres. +Yet have they many baits, and guilefull spells +To inveigle and invite th' unwary sense +Of them that pass unweeting by the way. +This evening late by then the chewing flocks 540 +Had ta'n their supper on the savoury Herb +Of Knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, +I sate me down to watch upon a bank +With Ivy canopied, and interwove +With flaunting Hony-suckle, and began +Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy +To meditate my rural minstrelsie, +Till fancy had her fill, but ere a close +The wonted roar was up amidst the Woods, +And fill'd the Air with barbarous dissonance, 550 +At which I ceas' t, and listen'd them a while, +Till an unusuall stop of sudden silence +Gave respit to the drowsie frighted steeds +That draw the litter of close-curtain'd sleep. +At last a soft and solemn breathing sound +Rose like a steam of rich distill'd Perfumes, +And stole upon the Air, that even Silence +Was took e're she was ware, and wish't she might +Deny her nature, and be never more +Still to be so displac't. I was all eare, 560 +And took in strains that might create a soul +Under the ribs of Death, but O ere long +Too well I did perceive it was the voice +Of my most honour'd Lady, your dear sister. +Amaz'd I stood, harrow'd with grief and fear, +And O poor hapless Nightingale thought I, +How sweet thou sing'st, how neer the deadly snare! +Then down the Lawns I ran with headlong hast +Through paths, and turnings oft'n trod by day, +Till guided by mine ear I found the place 570 +Where that damn'd wisard hid in sly disguise +(For so by certain signes I knew) had met +Already, ere my best speed could praevent, +The aidless innocent Lady his wish't prey, +Who gently ask't if he had seen such two, +Supposing him som neighbour villager; +Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guess't +Ye were the two she mean't, with that I sprung +Into swift flight, till I had found you here, +But furder know I not. + 2. Bro: O night and shades, 580 +How are ye joyn'd with hell in triple knot +Against th'unarmed weakness of one Virgin +Alone, and helpless! Is this the confidence +You gave me Brother? + Eld. Bro: Yes, and keep it still, +Lean on it safely, not a period +Shall be unsaid for me: against the threats +Of malice or of sorcery, or that power +Which erring men call Chance, this I hold firm, +Vertue may be assail'd, but never hurt, +Surpriz'd by unjust force, but not enthrall'd, 590 +Yea even that which mischief meant most harm, +Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. +But evil on it self shall back recoyl, +And mix no more with goodness, when at last +Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it self +It shall be in eternal restless change +Self-fed, and self-consum'd, if this fail, +The pillar'd firmament is rott'nness, +And earths base built on stubble. But corn let's on. +Against th' opposing will and arm of Heav'n 600 +May never this just sword be lifted up, +But for that damn'd magician, let him be girt +With all the greisly legions that troop +Under the sooty flag of Acheron, +Harpyies and Hydra's, or all the monstrous forms +'Twixt Africa and Inde, Ile find him out, +And force him to restore his purchase back, +Or drag him by the curls, to a foul death, +Curs'd as his life. + +Spir: Alas good ventrous youth, +I love thy courage yet, and bold Emprise, 610 +But here thy sword can do thee little stead, +Farr other arms, and other weapons must +Be those that quell the might of hellish charms, +He with his bare wand can unthred thy joynts, +And crumble all thy sinews. + +Eld. Bro: Why prethee Shepherd +How durst thou then thy self approach so neer +As to make this relation? + +Spir: Care and utmost shifts +How to secure the lady from surprisal, +Brought to my mind a certain Shepherd Lad +Of small regard to see to, yet well skill'd 620 +In every vertuous plant and healing herb +That spreds her verdant leaf to th'morning ray, +He lov'd me well, and oft would beg me sing, +Which when I did, he on the tender grass +Would sit, and hearken even to extasie, +And in requitall ope his leather'n scrip, +And shew me simples of a thousand names +Telling their strange and vigorous faculties; +Amongst the rest a small unsightly root, +But of divine effect, he cull'd me out; 630 +The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, +But in another Countrey, as he said, +Bore a bright golden flowre, but not in this soyl: +Unknown, and like esteem'd, and the dull swayn +Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon, +And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly +That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave; +He call'd it Haemony, and gave it me, +And bad me keep it as of sov'ran use +'Gainst all inchantments, mildew blast, or damp 640 +Or gastly furies apparition; +I purs't it up, but little reck'ning made, +Till now that this extremity compell'd, +But now I find it true; for by this means +I knew the foul inchanter though disguis'd, +Enter'd the very lime-twigs of his spells, +And yet came off: if you have this about you +(As I will give you when we go) you may +Boldly assault the necromancers hall; +Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 650 +And brandish't blade rush on him, break his glass, +And shed the lushious liquor on the ground, +But sease his wand, though he and his curst crew +Feirce signe of battail make, and menace high, +Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoak, +Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. + +Eld. Bro: Thyrsis lead on apace, Ile follow thee, +And som good angel bear a sheild before us. + +The scene changes to a stately Palace, set out with all manner of +deliciousness; Soft Musick, Tables spred with all dainties. +Comus appears with his rabble. and the Lady set in an inchanted +Chair, to whom he offers his Glass, which she puts by, and goes +about to rise. + +COMUS: Nay Lady sit; if I but wave this wand +Your nerves are all chain'd up in Alablaster, 660 +And you a statue; or as Daphne was +Root-bound, that fled Apollo. + +La: Fool do not boast, +Thou canst not touch the freedom of my minde +With all thy charms, although this corporal rinde +Thou haste immanacl'd, while Heav'n sees good. + +Co: Why are you vext Lady? why do you frown +Here dwell no frowns, nor anger, from these gates +Sorrow flies farr: See here be all the pleasures +That fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts, +When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 670 +Brisk as the April buds in Primrose-season. +And first behold this cordial Julep here +That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds +With spirits of balm, and fragrant Syrops mixt. +Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone, +In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena +Is of such power to stir up joy as this, +To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. +Why should you be so cruel to your self, +And to those dainty limms which nature lent 680 +For gentle usage, and soft delicacy? +But you invert the cov'nants of her trust, +And harshly deal like an ill borrower +With that which you receiv'd on other terms, +Scorning the unexempt condition +By which all mortal frailty must subsist, +Refreshment after toil, ease after pain, +That have been tir'd all day without repast, +And timely rest have wanted, but fair Virgin +This will restore all soon. + +La: 'Twill not false traitor, 690 +'Twill not restore the truth and honesty +That thou hast banish't from thy tongue with lies +Was this the cottage, and the safe abode +Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these +These oughly-headed Monsters? Mercy guard me! +Hence with thy brew'd inchantments, foul deceit +Hast thou betrai'd my credulous innocence +With visor'd falshood, and base forgery, +And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here +With lickerish baits fit to ensnare a brute? 700 +Were it a draft for Juno when she banquets, +I would not taste thy treasonous offer; none +But such as are good men can give good things, +And that which is not good, is not delicious +To a well-govern'd and wise appetite. + +Co: O foolishnes of men ! that lend their ears +To those budge doctors of the Stoick Furr, +And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub, +Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence. +Wherefore did Nature powre her bounties forth, 710 +With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, +Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, +Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable, +But all to please, and sate the curious taste? +And set to work millions of spinning Worms, +That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd silk +To deck her Sons, and that no corner might +Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loyns +She hutch't th'all-worshipt ore, and precious gems +To store her children with; if all the world 720 +Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse, +Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Freize, +Th'all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd, +Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd, +And we should serve him as a grudging master, +As a penurious niggard of his wealth, +And live like Natures bastards, not her sons, +Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, +And strangl'd with her waste fertility; +Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air dark't with plumes. 730 +The herds would over-multitude their Lords, +The Sea o'refraught would swell, and th'unsought diamonds +Would so emblaze the forhead of the Deep, +And so bested with Stars, that they below +Would grow inur'd to light, and com at last +To gaze upon the Sun with shameless brows. +List Lady be not coy, and be not cosen'd +With that same vaunted name Virginity, +Beauty is natures coyn, must not be hoorded, +But must be currant, and the good thereof 740 +Consists in mutual and partak'n bliss, +Unsavoury in th'injoyment of it self +If you let slip time, like a neglected rose +It withers on the stalk with languish't head. +Beauty is natures brag, and must be shown +In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities +Where most may wonder at the workmanship; +It is for homely features to keep home, +They had their name thence; course complexions +And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply 750 +The sampler, and to teize the huswifes wooll. +What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that +Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn? +There was another meaning in these gifts, +Think what, and be adviz'd, you are but young yet. + +La: I had not thought to have unlockt my lips +In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler +Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes, +Obtruding false rules pranckt in reasons garb. +I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, 760 +And vertue has no tongue to check her pride: +Impostor do not charge most innocent nature, +As if she would her children should be riotous +With her abundance, she good cateress +Means her provision onely to the good +That live according to her sober laws, +And holy dictate of spare Temperance: +If every just man that now pines with want +Had but a moderate and heseeming share +Of that which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury 770 +Now heaps upon som few with vast excess, +Natures full blessings would be well dispenc't +In unsuperfluous eeven proportion, +And she no whit encomber'd with her store, +And then the giver would he better thank't, +His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony +Ne're looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast, +But with besotted base ingratitude +Cramms, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on? +Or have I said anough? To him that dares 780 +Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words +Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity, +Fain would I somthing say, yet to what end? +Thou hast nor Eare, nor Soul to apprehend +The sublime notion, and high mystery +That must be utter'd to unfold the sage +And serious doctrine of Virginity, +And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know +More happiness then this thy present lot. +Enjoy your deer Wit, and gay Rhetorick 790 +That hath so well been taught her dazling fence, +Thou art not fit to hear thy self convinc't; +Yet should I try, the uncontrouled worth +Of this pure cause would kindle my rap't spirits +To such a flame of sacred vehemence +That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize, +And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake, +Till all thy magick structures rear'd so high, +Were shatter'd into heaps o're thy false head. + +Co: She fables not, I feel that I do fear 800 +Her words set off by som superior power; +And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddring dew +Dips me all o're, as when the wrath of Jove +Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus +To som of Saturns crew. I must dissemble, +And try her yet more strongly. Com, no more, +This is meer moral babble, and direct +Against the canon laws of our foundation; +I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees +And setlings of a melancholy blood; 810 +But this will cure all streight, one sip of this +Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight +Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.-- + +The brothers rush in with Swords drawn, wrest his Glass out of +his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make signe of +resistance, but are all driven in; The attendant Spirit comes in. + +Spir: What, have you let the false enchanter scape? +O ye mistook, ye should have snatcht his wand +And bound him fast; without his rod revers't, +And backward mutters of dissevering power, +We cannot free the Lady that sits here +In stony fetters fixt, and motionless; +Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me 820 +Som other means I have which may he us'd +Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt +The soothest Shepherd that ere pip't on plains. +There is a gentle Nymph not farr from hence, +That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream, +Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure, +Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, +That had the Scepter from his father Brute. +The guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit +Of her enraged stepdam Guendolen, 830 +Commended her fair innocence to the flood +That stay'd her flight with his cross-flowing course, +The water Nymphs that in the bottom plaid, +Held up their pearled wrists and took her in, +Bearing her straight to aged Nereus Hall, +Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her lank head, +And gave her to his daughters to imbathe +In nectar'd lavers strew'd with Asphodil, +And through the porch and inlet of each sense +Dropt in Ambrosial Oils till she reviv'd, 840 +And underwent a quick immortal change +Made Goddess of the River; still she retains +Her maid'n gentlenes, and oft at Eeve +Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, +Helping all urchin blasts, and ill luck signes +That the shrewd medling Elfe delights to make, +Which she with pretious viold liquors heals. +For which the Shepherds at their festivals +Carrol her goodnes lowd in rustick layes, +And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 850 +Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy Daffadils. +And, as the old Swain said, she can unlock +The clasping charms, and thaw the numming spell, +If she be right invok't in warbled Song, +For maid'nhood she loves, and will be swift +To aid a Virgin, such as was her self +In hard besetting need, this will I try +And adde the power of som adjuring verse. + +SONG. + +Sabrina fair +Listen when thou art sitting 860 +Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave, +In twisted braids of Lillies knitting +The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair, +Listen for dear honour's sake, +Goddess of the silver lake, +Listen and save. + +Listen and appear to us +In name of great Oceanus, +By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, +And Tethys grave majestick pace, 870 +By hoary Nereus wrincled look, +And the Carpathian wisards hook, +By scaly Tritons winding shell, +And old sooth-saying Glaucus spell, +By Leucothea's lovely hands, +And her son that rules the strands, +By Thetis tinsel-slipper'd feet, +And the Songs of Sirens sweet, +By dead Parthenope's dear tomb, +And fair Ligea's golden comb, 880 +Wherwith she sits on diamond rocks +Sleeking her soft alluring locks, +By all the Nymphs that nightly dance +Upon thy streams with wily glance, +Rise, rise, and heave thy rosie head +>From thy coral-pav'n bed, +And bridle in thy headlong wave, +Till thou our summons answered have. +Listen and save. + +Sabrina rises, attended by water-Nymphes, and sings. + +Sab: By the rushy-fringed bank, 890 +Where grows the Willow and the Osier dank, +My sliding Chariot stayes, +Thick set with Agat, and the azurn sheen +Of Turkis blew, and Emrauld green +That in the channell strayes, +Whilst from off the waters fleet +Thus I set my printless feet +O're the Cowslips Velvet head, +That bends not as I tread, +Gentle swain at thy request 900 +I am here. + +Spir: Goddess dear +We implore thy powerful hand +To undo the charmed band +Of true Virgin here distrest, +Through the force, and through the wile +Of unblest inchanter vile. + +Sab: Shepherd 'tis my office best +To help insnared chastity; +Brightest Lady look on me, 910 +Thus I sprinkle on thy brest +Drops that from my fountain pure, +I have kept of pretious cure, +Thrice upon thy fingers tip, +Thrice upon thy rubied lip, +Next this marble venom'd seat +Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat +I touch with chaste palms moist and cold, +Now the spell hath lost his hold; +And I must haste ere morning hour 920 +To wait in Amphitrite's bowr. + +Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat. + +Spir: Virgin, daughter of Locrine +Sprung of old Anchises line, +May thy brimmed waves for this +Their full tribute never miss +>From a thousand petty rills, +That tumble down the snowy hills: +Summer drouth, or singed air +Never scorch thy tresses fair, +Nor wet Octobers torrent flood 930 +Thy molten crystal fill with mudd, +May thy billows rowl ashoar +The beryl, and the golden ore, +May thy lofty head be crown'd +With many a tower and terrass round, +And here and there thy banks upon +With Groves of myrrhe, and cinnamon. + +Com Lady while Heaven lends us grace, +Let us fly this cursed place, +Lest the Sorcerer us intice 940 +With som other new device. +Not a waste, or needless sound +Till we com to holier ground, +I shall be your faithfull guide +Through this gloomy covert wide, +And not many furlongs thence +Is your Fathers residence, +Where this night are met in state +Many a friend to gratulate +His wish't presence, and beside 950 +All the Swains that there abide, +With Jiggs, and rural dance resort, +We shall catch them at their sport, +And our sudden coming there +Will double all their mirth and chere; +Com let us haste, the Stars grow high, +But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. + +The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town and the President +Castle, then com in Countrey-Dancers, after them the attendant +Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady. + +SONG. + +Spir: Back Shepherds, back, anough your play, +Till next Sun-shine holiday, +Here be without duck or nod 960 +Other trippings to be trod +Of lighter toes, and such Court guise +As Mercury did first devise +With the mincing Dryades +On the Lawns, and on the Leas. + +This second Song presents them to their father and mother. + +Noble Lord, and Lady bright, +I have brought ye new delight, +Here behold so goodly grown +Three fair branches of your own, +Heav'n hath timely tri'd their youth. 970 +Their faith, their patience, and their truth +And sent them here through hard assays +With a crown of deathless Praise, +To triumph in victorious dance +O're sensual folly, and Intemperance. + +The dances ended, the Spirit Epiloguizes. + +Spir: To the Ocean now I fly, +And those happy climes that ly +Where day never shuts his eye, +Up in the broad fields of the sky: +There I suck the liquid ayr 980 +All amidst the Gardens fair +Of Hesperus, and his daughters three +That sing about the golden tree: +Along the crisped shades and bowres +Revels the spruce and jocond Spring, +The Graces, and the rosie-boosom'd Howres, +Thither all their bounties bring, +That there eternal Summer dwels, +And West winds, with musky wing +About the cedar'n alleys fling 990 +Nard, and Cassia's balmy smels. +Iris there with humid bow, +Waters the odorous banks that blow +Flowers of more mingled hew +Then her purfl'd scarf can shew, +And drenches with Elysian dew +(List mortals, if your ears be true) +Beds of Hyacinth, and roses +Where young Adonis oft reposes, +Waxing well of his deep wound 1000 +In slumber soft, and on the ground +Sadly sits th' Assyrian Queen; +But far above in spangled sheen +Celestial Cupid her fam'd son advanc't, +Holds his dear Psyche sweet intranc't +After her wandring labours long, +Till free consent the gods among +Make her his eternal Bride, +And from her fair unspotted side +Two blissful twins are to be born, +Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn. 1010 +But now my task is smoothly don, +I can fly, or I can run +Quickly to the green earths end, +Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend, +And from thence can soar as soon +To the corners of the Moon. +Mortals that would follow me, +Love vertue, she alone is free, +She can teach ye how to clime 1020 +Higher then the Spheary chime; +Or if Vertue feeble were, +Heav'n it self would stoop to her. + +Notes: +43 ye] you 1673 +167 omitted 1673 +168, 9 Thus 1637. Manuscript reads -- +but heere she comes I fairly step aside +& hearken, if I may, her buisnesse heere. +1673 reads -- +And hearken, if I may her business hear. +But here she comes, I fairly step aside. +474 sensualty] sensuality 1673. Manuscript also reads sensualtie, +as the metre requires. +493 father] So also 1673. Manuscript reads father's +547 meditate] meditate upon 1673 +553 drowsie frighted] Manuscript reads drowsie flighted. +556 steam] stream 1673 +580 furder] further 1673 +743 In the manuscript, which reads-- +If you let slip time like an neglected rose +a circle has been drawn round the an, but probably not by Milton. +780 anough] anow 1673 + + + + +POEMS ADDED IN THE 1673 EDITION. + + + +Anno aetatis 17. On the Death of a fair Infant dying of a Cough. + + +I + +O FAIREST flower no sooner blown but blasted, +Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie, +Summers chief honour if thou hadst outlasted +Bleak winters force that made thy blossome drie; +For he being amorous on that lovely die +That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss +But kill'd alas, and then bewayl'd his fatal bliss. + +II + +For since grim Aquilo his charioter +By boistrous rape th' Athenian damsel got, +He thought it toucht his Deitie full neer, 10 +If likewise he some fair one wedded not, +Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot, +Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, +Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held. + +III + +So mounting up in ycie-pearled carr, +Through middle empire of the freezing aire +He wanderd long, till thee he spy'd from farr, +There ended was his quest, there ceast his care +Down he descended from his Snow-soft chaire, +But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 20 +Unhous'd thy Virgin Soul from her fair hiding place. + +IV + +Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; +For so Apollo, with unweeting hand +Whilome did slay his dearly-loved mate +Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand, +Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land; +But then transform'd him to a purple flower +Alack that so to change thee winter had no power. + +V + +Yet can I not perswade me thou art dead +Or that thy coarse corrupts in earths dark wombe, 30 +Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed, +Hid from the world in a low delved tombe; +Could Heav'n for pittie thee so strictly doom? +O no! for something in thy face did shine +Above mortalitie that shew'd thou wast divine. + +VI + +Resolve me then oh Soul most surely blest +(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear) +Tell me bright Spirit where e're thou hoverest +Whether above that high first-moving Spheare +Or in the Elisian fields (if such there were.) 40 +Oh say me true if thou wert mortal wight +And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight. + +VII + +Wert thou some Starr which from the ruin'd roofe +Of shak't Olympus by mischance didst fall; +Which carefull Jove in natures true behoofe +Took up, and in fit place did reinstall? +Or did of late earths Sonnes besiege the wall +Of sheenie Heav'n, and thou some goddess fled +Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head + +VIII + +Or wert thou that just Maid who once before 50 +Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth +And cam'st again to visit us once more? +Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth! +Or that c[r]own'd Matron sage white-robed Truth? +Or any other of that heav'nly brood +Let down in clowdie throne to do the world some good. + +Note: 53 Or wert thou] Or wert thou Mercy -- conjectured by +John Heskin Ch. Ch. Oxon. from Ode on Nativity, st. 15. + +IX + +Or wert thou of the golden-winged boast, +Who having clad thy self in humane weed, +To earth from thy praefixed seat didst poast, +And after short abode flie back with speed, 60 +As if to shew what creatures Heav'n doth breed, +Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire +To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire. + +X + +But oh why didst thou not stay here below +To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence, +To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe +To turn Swift-rushing black perdition hence, +Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence, +To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart +But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. 70 + +XI + +Then thou the mother of so sweet a child +Her false imagin'd loss cease to lament, +And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild; +Think what a present thou to God hast sent, +And render him with patience what he lent; +This if thou do he will an off-spring give, +That till the worlds last-end shall make thy name to live. + + + +Anno Aetatis 19. At a Vacation Exercise in the Colledge, part +Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus +began. + + +HAIL native Language, that by sinews weak +Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak, +And mad'st imperfect words with childish tripps, +Half unpronounc't, slide through my infant-lipps, +Driving dum silence from the portal dore, +Where he had mutely sate two years before: +Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask, +That now I use thee in my latter task: +Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee, +I know my tongue but little Grace can do thee: 10 +Thou needst not be ambitious to be first, +Believe me I have thither packt the worst: +And, if it happen as I did forecast, +The daintest dishes shall be serv'd up last. +I pray thee then deny me not thy aide +For this same small neglect that I have made: +But haste thee strait to do me once a Pleasure, +And from thy wardrope bring thy chiefest treasure; +Not those new fangled toys, and triming slight +Which takes our late fantasticks with delight, 20 +But cull those richest Robes, and gay'st attire +Which deepest Spirits, and choicest Wits desire: +I have some naked thoughts that rove about +And loudly knock to have their passage out; +And wearie of their place do only stay +Till thou hast deck't them in thy best aray; +That so they may without suspect or fears +Fly swiftly to this fair Assembly's ears; +Yet I had rather if I were to chuse, +Thy service in some graver subject use, 30 +Such as may make thee search thy coffers round +Before thou cloath my fancy in fit sound: +Such where the deep transported mind may scare +Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'ns dore +Look in, and see each blissful Deitie +How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, +Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings +To th'touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings +Immortal Nectar to her Kingly Sire: +Then passing through the Spherse of watchful fire, 40 +And mistie Regions of wide air next under, +And hills of Snow and lofts of piled Thunder, +May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves, +In Heav'ns defiance mustering all his waves; +Then sing of secret things that came to pass +When Beldam Nature in her cradle was; +And last of Kings and Queens and Hero's old, +Such as the wise Demodocus once told +In solemn Songs at King Alcinous feast, +While sad Ulisses soul and all the rest 50 +Are held with his melodious harmonie +In willing chains and sweet captivitie. +But fie my wandring Muse how thou dost stray ! +Expectance calls thee now another way, +Thou know'st it must he now thy only bent +To keep in compass of thy Predicament: +Then quick about thy purpos'd business come, +That to the next I may resign my Roome + +Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments his ten +Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for Substance with his Canons, +which Ens thus speaking, explains. + +Good luck befriend thee Son; for at thy birth +The Faiery Ladies daunc't upon the hearth; 60 +Thy drowsie Nurse hath sworn she did them spie +Come tripping to the Room where thou didst lie; +And sweetly singing round about thy Bed +Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping Head. +She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still +>From eyes of mortals walk invisible, +Yet there is something that doth force my fear, +For once it was my dismal hap to hear +A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age, +That far events full wisely could presage, +And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass +Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass, +Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent) +Shall subject be to many an Accident. +O're all his Brethren he shall Reign as King, +Yet every one shall make him underling, +And those that cannot live from him asunder +Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under, +In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, +Yet being above them, he shall be below them; 80 +>From others he shall stand in need of nothing, +Yet on his Brothers shall depend for Cloathing. +To find a Foe it shall not be his hap, +And peace shall lull him in her flowry lap; +Yet shall he live in strife, and at his dore +Devouring war shall never cease to roare; +Yea it shall be his natural property +To harbour those that are at enmity. +What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not +Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 90 + +The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation +was call'd by his Name. + +Rivers arise; whether thou be the Son, +Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun, +Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant spreads +His thirty Armes along the indented Meads, +Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath, +Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death, +Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee, +Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee, +Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name, +Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame. 100 + +The rest was Prose. + + + +THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE. LIB. I. -- +Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa +Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the +Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit. + +WHAT slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours +Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave, +Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou +In wreaths thy golden Hair, +Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he +On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas +Rough with black winds and storms +Unwonted shall admire: +Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold, +Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable 10 +Hopes thee; of flattering gales +Unmindfull. Hapless they +To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd +Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung +My dank and dropping weeds +To the stern God of Sea. +[The Latin text follows.] + + + +SONNETS. + + +XI + +A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon; +And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile; +The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while, +Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on. +Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on +A title page is this! and some in file +Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile- +End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon, +Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? +Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek 10 +That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. +Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, +Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp; +When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek. + +Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which +followed my writing certain Treatises. + + +XII. On the same. + +I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs +By the known rules of antient libertie, +When strait a barbarous noise environs me +Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs. +As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs +Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie +Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee. +But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs; +That bawle for freedom in their senceless mood, +And still revolt when truth would set them free. 10 +Licence they mean when they cry libertie; +For who loves that, must first be wise and good; +But from that mark how far they roave we see +For all this wast of wealth, and loss of blood. + + +XIII + +To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires. + +Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song +First taught our English Musick how to span +Words with just note and accent, not to scan +With Midas Ears, committing short and long; +Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, +With praise enough for Envy to look wan; +To after age thou shalt be writ the man, +That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue +Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing +To honour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire 10 +That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn or Story +Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher +Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing +Met in the milder shades of Purgatory. + +Note: 9 send] lend Cambridge Autograph MS. + + +XIV + +When Faith and Love which parted from thee never, +Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, +Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load +Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever +Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour +Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod; +But as Faith pointed with her golden rod, +Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. +Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best +Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams 10 +And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, +And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams +Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest +And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. + +Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious +Memory of Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased +16 Decemb., 1646. + + +XV + +ON THE LATE MASSACHER IN PIEMONT. + +Avenge O lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones +Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold, +Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old +When all our Fathers worship't Stocks and Stones, +Forget not: in thy book record their groanes +Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold +Slayn by the bloody Piemontese that roll'd +Mother with Infant down the Rocks. Their moans +The Vales redoubl'd to the Hills, and they +To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 10 +O're all th'Italian fields where still doth sway +The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow +A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way +Early may fly the Babylonian wo. + + + +XVI + + +When I consider how my light is spent, +E're half my days, in this dark world and wide, +And that one Talent which is death to hide, +Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent +To serve therewith my Maker, and present +My true account, least he returning chide, +Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd, +I fondly ask; But patience to prevent +That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need +Either man's work or his own gifts, who best 10 +Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State +Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed +And post o're Land and Ocean without rest: +They also serve who only stand and waite. + + + +XVII + + +Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son, +Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire, +Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire +Help wast a sullen day; what may be Won +>From the hard Season gaining: time will run +On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire +The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire +The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. +What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, +Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise 10 +To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice +Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre? +He who of those delights can judge, and spare +To interpose them oft, is not unwise. + + + +XVIII + + +Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench +Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause +Pronounc't and in his volumes taught our Lawes, +Which others at their Barr so often wrench: +To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench +In mirth, that after no repenting drawes; +Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, +And what the Swede intend, and what the French. +To measure life, learn thou betimes, and know +Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; 10 +For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains, +And disapproves that care, though wise in show, +That with superfluous burden loads the day, +And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. + + + +XIX + + +Methought I saw my late espoused Saint +Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, +Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave, +Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint. +Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint, +Purification in the old Law did save, +And such, as yet once more I trust to have +Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, +Came vested all in white, pure as her mind: +Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight, 10 +Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd +So clear, as in no face with more delight. +But O as to embrace me she enclin'd +I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night. + + + +On the new forcers of Conscience under the Long PARLIAMENT. + + +Because you have thrown of your Prelate Lord, +And with stiff Vowes renounc'd his Liturgie +To seise the widdow'd whore Pluralitie +>From them whose sin ye envi'd, not abhor'd, +Dare ye for this adjure the Civill Sword +To force our Consciences that Christ set free, +And ride us with a classic Hierarchy +Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford? +Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent +Would have been held in high esteem with Paul 10 +Must now he nam'd and printed Hereticks +By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call: +But we do hope to find out all your tricks, +Your plots and packing wors then those of Trent, +That so the Parliament +May with their wholsom and preventive Shears +Clip your Phylacteries, though bauk your Ears, +And succour our just Fears +When they shall read this clearly in your charge +New Presbyter is but Old Priest Writ Large. 20 + + +The four following sonnets were not published until 1694, and +then in a mangled form by Phillips, in his Life of Milton; they +are here printed from the Cambridge MS., where that to Fairfax +is in Milton's autograph. + + + +ON THE LORD GEN. FAIRFAX AT THE SEIGE OF COLCHESTER. + + +Fairfax, whose name in armes through Europe rings +Filling each mouth with envy, or with praise, +And all her jealous monarchs with amaze, +And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings, +Thy firm unshak'n vertue ever brings +Victory home, though new rebellions raise +Their Hydra heads, & the fals North displaies +Her brok'n league, to impe their serpent wings, +O yet a nobler task awaites thy hand; +Yet what can Warr, but endless warr still breed, 10 +Till Truth, & Right from Violence be freed, +And Public Faith cleard from the shamefull brand +Of Public Fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed +While Avarice, & Rapine share the land. + + + +To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652. +ON THE PROPOSALLS OF CERTAINE MINISTERS AT THE COMMITTEE FOR +PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPELL. + + +Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud +Not of warr onely, but detractions rude, +Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude +To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, +And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud +Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu'd, +While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru'd, +And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud, +And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines +To conquer still; peace hath her victories 10 +No less renownd then warr, new foes aries +Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines: +Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw +Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw. + + + +TO SR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER. + + +Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old, +Then whome a better Senatour nere held +The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld +The feirce Epeirot & the African bold, +Whether to settle peace, or to unfold +The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld, +Then to advise how warr may best, upheld, +Move by her two maine nerves, Iron & Gold +In all her equipage: besides to know +Both spirituall powre & civill, what each meanes 10 +What severs each thou hast learnt, which few have don +The bounds of either sword to thee wee ow. +Therfore on thy firme hand religion leanes +In peace, & reck'ns thee her eldest son. + + + +TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNER UPON HIS BLINDNESS. + + +Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear +To outward view, of blemish or of spot; +Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot, +Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear +Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year, +Or man or woman. Yet I argue not +Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot +Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer +Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? +The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd 10 +In libertyes defence, my noble task, +Of which all Europe talks from side to side. +This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask +Content though blind, had I no better guide. + + + +PSAL. I. Done into Verse, 1653. + + +BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray +In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way +Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat +Of scorners hath not sate. But in the great +Jehovahs Law is ever his delight, +And in his law he studies day and night. +He shall be as a tree which planted grows +By watry streams, and in his season knows +To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall. +And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 10 +Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd +The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand +In judgment, or abide their tryal then +Nor sinners in th'assembly of just men. +For the Lord knows th'upright way of the just +And the way of bad men to ruine must. + + + +PSAL. II Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti. + + +WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations +Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand +With power, and Princes in their Congregations +Lay deep their plots together through each Land, +Against the Lord and his Messiah dear. +Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand +Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, +Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell +Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe +Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 10 +And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee +Anointed have my King (though ye rebell) +On Sion my holi' hill. A firm decree +I will declare; the Lord to me hath say'd +Thou art my Son I have begotten thee +This day, ask of me, and the grant is made; +As thy possession I on thee bestow +Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd +Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low +With Iron Sceptir bruis'd, and them disperse 20 +Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so. +And now be wise at length ye Kings averse +Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear +Jehovah serve and let your joy converse +With trembling; Kiss the Son least he appear +In anger and ye perish in the way +If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere. +Happy all those who have in him their stay. + + + +PSAL. III. Aug. 9. 1653 +WHEN HE FLED FROM ABSALOM. + + +LORD how many are my foes +How many those +That in arms against me rise +Many are they +That of my life distrustfully thus say, +No help for him in God there lies. +But thou Lord art my shield my glory, +Thee through my story +Th' exalter of my head I count +Aloud I cry'd 10 +Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd +And heard me from his holy mount. +I lay and slept, I wak'd again, +For my sustain +Was the Lord. Of many millions +The populous rout +I fear not though incamping round about +They pitch against me their Pavillions. +Rise Lord, save me my God for thou +Hast smote ere now 20 +On the cheek-bone all my foes, +Of men abhor'd +Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord; +Thy blessing on thy people flows. + + + +PSAL. IV. Aug. 10.1653. + + +ANSWER me when I call +God of my righteousness; +In straights and in distress +Thou didst me disinthrall +And set at large; now spare, +Now pity me, and hear my earnest prai'r. + +Great ones how long will ye +My glory have in scorn +How long be thus forlorn +Still to love vanity, 10 +To love, to seek, to prize +Things false and vain and nothing else but lies? + +Yet know the Lord hath chose +Chose to himself a part +The good and meek of heart +(For whom to chuse he knows) +Jehovah from on high +Will hear my voyce what time to him I crie. + +Be aw'd, and do not sin, +Speak to your hearts alone, 20 +Upon your beds, each one, +And be at peace within. +Offer the offerings just +Of righteousness and in Jehovah trust. + +Many there be that say +Who yet will shew us good? +Talking like this worlds brood; +But Lord, thus let me pray, +On us lift up the light +Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright. 30 + +Into my heart more joy +And gladness thou hast put +Then when a year of glut +Their stores doth over-cloy +And from their plenteous grounds +With vast increase their corn and wine abounds. + +In peace at once will I +Both lay me down and sleep +For thou alone dost keep +Me safe where ere I lie 40 +As in a rocky Cell +Thou Lord alone in safety mak'st me dwell. + + + +PSAL. V. Aug. 12.1653. + + +JEHOVAH to my words give ear +My meditation waigh +The voyce of my complaining hear +My King and God for unto thee I pray. +Jehovah thou my early voyce +Shalt in the morning hear +Ith'morning I to thee with choyce +Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear. +For thou art not a God that takes +In wickedness delight 10 +Evil with thee no biding makes +Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight. +All workers of iniquity +Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly +The bloodi' and guileful man God doth detest. +But I will in thy mercies dear +Thy numerous mercies go +Into thy house; I in thy fear +Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 20 +Lord lead me in thy righteousness +Lead me because of those +That do observe if I transgress, +Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes. +For in his faltring mouth unstable +No word is firm or sooth +Their inside, troubles miserable; +An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth. +God, find them guilty, let them fall +By their own counsels quell'd; 30 +Push them in their rebellions all +Still on; for against thee they have rebell'd; +Then all who trust in thee shall bring +Their joy, while thou from blame +Defend'st them, they shall ever sing +And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name. +For thou Jehovah wilt be found +To bless the just man still, +As with a shield thou wilt surround +Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 40 + + + +PSAL. VI Aug. 13. 1653. + + +LORD in thine anger do not reprehend me +Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; +Pity me Lord for I am much deject +Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me, +For all my bones, that even with anguish ake, +Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore +And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore +My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake +For in death no remembrance is of thee; +Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? 10 +Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes. +Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea; +My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie +Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark +Ith' mid'st of all mine enemies that mark. +Depart all ye that work iniquitie. +Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping +The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai'r +My supplication with acceptance fair +The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 20 +Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash't +With much confusion; then grow red with shame, +They shall return in hast the way they came +And in a moment shall be quite abash't. + + + +PSAL. VII. Aug. 14. 1653. +UPON THE WORDS OF CHUSH THE BENJAMITE AGAINST HIM. + + +Lord my God to thee I flie +Save me and secure me under +Thy protection while I crie +Least as a Lion (and no wonder) +He hast to tear my Soul asunder +Tearing and no rescue nigh. + +Lord my God if I have thought +Or done this, if wickedness +Be in my hands, if I have wrought +Ill to him that meant me peace, 10 +Or to him have render'd less, +And fre'd my foe for naught; + +Let th'enemy pursue my soul +And overtake it, let him tread +My life down to the earth and roul +In the dust my glory dead, +In the dust and there out spread +Lodge it with dishonour foul. + +Rise Jehovah in thine ire +Rouze thy self amidst the rage 20 +Of my foes that urge like fire; +And wake for me, their furi' asswage; +Judgment here thou didst ingage +And command which I desire. + +So th' assemblies of each Nation +Will surround thee, seeking right, +Thence to thy glorious habitation +Return on high and in their sight. +Jehovah judgeth most upright +All people from the worlds foundation. 30 + +Judge me Lord, be judge in this +According to my righteousness +And the innocence which is +Upon me: cause at length to cease +Of evil men the wickedness +And their power that do amiss. + +But the just establish fast, +Since thou art the just God that tries +Hearts and reins. On God is cast +My defence, and in him lies 40 +In him who both just and wise +Saves th' upright of Heart at last. + +God is a just Judge and severe, +And God is every day offended; +If th' unjust will not forbear, +His Sword he whets, his Bow hath bended +Already, and for him intended +The tools of death, that waits him near. + +(His arrows purposely made he +For them that persecute.) Behold 50 +He travels big with vanitie, +Trouble he hath conceav'd of old +As in a womb, and from that mould +Hath at length brought forth a Lie. + +He dig'd a pit, and delv'd it deep, +And fell into the pit he made, +His mischief that due course doth keep, +Turns on his head, and his ill trade +Of violence will undelay'd +Fall on his crown with ruine steep. 60 + +Then will I Jehovah's praise +According to his justice raise +And sing the Name and Deitie +Of Jehovah the most high. + + + +PSAL. VIII. Aug. 14. 1653. + + +O JEHOVAH our Lord how wondrous great +And glorious is thy name through all the earth? +So as above the Heavens thy praise to set +Out of the tender mouths of latest bearth, + +Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou +Hast founded strength because of all thy foes +To stint th'enemy, and slack th'avengers brow +That bends his rage thy providence to oppose. + +When I behold thy Heavens, thy Fingers art, +The Moon and Starrs which thou so bright hast set, 10 +In the pure firmament, then saith my heart, +O What is man that thou remembrest yet, + +And think'st upon him; or of man begot +That him thou visit'st and of him art found; +Scarce to be less then Gods, thou mad'st his lot, +With honour and with state thou hast him crown'd. + +O're the works of thy hand thou mad'st him Lord, +Thou hast put all under his lordly feet, +All Flocks, and Herds, by thy commanding word, +All beasts that in the field or forrest meet. 20 + +Fowl of the Heavens, and Fish that through the wet +Sea-paths in shoals do slide. And know no dearth. +O Jehovah our Lord how wondrous great +And glorious is thy name through all the earth. + + + + +April, 1648. J. M. +Nine of the Psalms done into Metre, wherein all but what is +in a different Character, are the very words of the Text, +translated from the Original. + + + +PSAL. LXXX. + + +1 THOU Shepherd that dost Israel keep + Give ear in time of need, + Who leadest like a flock of sheep + Thy loved Josephs seed, + That sitt'st between the Cherubs bright + Between their wings out-spread + Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light, + And on our foes thy dread. +2 In Ephraims view and Benjamins, + And in Manasse's sight 10 + Awake* thy strength, come, and be seen *Gnorera. + To save us by thy might. +3 Turn us again, thy grace divine + To us O God vouchsafe; + Cause thou thy face on us to shine + And then we shall be safe. +4 Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou, + How long wilt thou declare + Thy *smoaking wrath, and angry brow *Gnashanta. + Against thy peoples praire. 20 +5 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears, + Their bread with tears they eat, + And mak'st them* largely drink the tears *Shalish. + Wherewith their cheeks are wet. +6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey + To every neighbour foe, + Among themselves they *laugh, they *play, *Jilgnagu. + And *flouts at us they throw. +7 Return us, and thy grace divine, + O God of Hosts vouchsafe 30 + Cause thou thy face on us to shine, + And then we shall be safe. +8 A Vine from Aegypt thou hast brought, + Thy free love made it thine, + And drov'st out Nations proud and haut + To plant this lovely Vine. +9 Thou did'st prepare for it a place + And root it deep and fast + That it began to grow apace, + And fill'd the land at last. 40 +10 With her green shade that cover'd all, + The Hills were over-spread + Her Bows as high as Cedars tall + Advanc'd their lofty head. +11 Her branches on the western side + Down to the Sea she sent, + And upward to that river wide + Her other branches went. +12 Why hast thou laid her Hedges low + And brok'n down her Fence, 50 + That all may pluck her, as they go, + With rudest violence? +13 The tusked Boar out of the wood + Up turns it by the roots, + Wild Beasts there brouze, and make their food + Her Grapes and tender Shoots. +14 Return now, God of Hosts, look down + From Heav'n, thy Seat divine, + Behold us, but without a frown, + And visit this thy Vine. 60 +15 Visit this Vine, which thy right hand + Hath set, and planted long, + And the young branch, that for thy self + Thou hast made firm and strong. +16 But now it is consum'd with fire, + And cut with Axes down, + They perish at thy dreadfull ire, + At thy rebuke and frown. +17 Upon the man of thy right hand + Let thy good hand be laid, 70 + Upon the Son of Man, whom thou + Strong for thyself hast made. +18 So shall we not go back from thee + To wayes of sin and shame, + Quick'n us thou, then gladly wee + Shall call upon thy Name. + Return us, and thy grace divine + Lord God of Hosts voutsafe, + Cause thou thy face on us to shine, + And then we shall be safe. 80 + + + +PSAL. LXXXI. + + +1 To God our strength sing loud, and clear, + Sing loud to God our King, + To Jacobs God, that all may hear + Loud acclamations ring. +2 Prepare a Hymn, prepare a Song + The Timbrel hither bring + The cheerfull Psaltry bring along + And Harp with pleasant string. +3 Blow, as is wont, in the new Moon + With Trumpets lofty sound, 10 + Th'appointed time, the day wheron + Our solemn Feast comes round. +4 This was a Statute giv'n of old + For Israel to observe + A Law of Jacobs God, to hold + From whence they might not swerve. +5 This he a Testimony ordain'd + In Joseph, not to change, + When as he pass'd through Aegypt land; + The Tongue I heard, was strange. 20 +6 From burden, and from slavish toyle + I set his shoulder free; + His hands from pots, and mirie soyle + Deliver'd were by me. +7 When trouble did thee sore assaile, + On me then didst thou call, + And I to free thee did not faile, + And led thee out of thrall. + I answer'd thee in *thunder deep *Be Sether ragnam. + With clouds encompass'd round; 30 + I tri'd thee at the water steep + Of Meriba renown'd. +8 Hear O my people, heark'n well, + I testifie to thee + Thou antient flock of Israel, + If thou wilt list to mee, +9 Through out the land of thy abode + No alien God shall be + Nor shalt thou to a forein God + In honour bend thy knee. 40 +10 I am the Lord thy God which brought + Thee out of Aegypt land + Ask large enough, and I, besought, + Will grant thy full demand. +11 And yet my people would not hear, + Nor hearken to my voice; + And Israel whom I lov'd so dear + Mislik'd me for his choice. +12 Then did I leave them to their will + And to their wandring mind; 50 + Their own conceits they follow'd still + Their own devises blind +13 O that my people would be wise + To serve me all their daies, + And O that Israel would advise + To walk my righteous waies. +14 Then would I soon bring down their foes + That now so proudly rise, + And turn my hand against all those + That are their enemies. 60 +15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain + To bow to him and bend, + But they, His should remain, + Their time should have no end. +16 And he would free them from the shock + With flower of finest wheat, + And satisfie them from the rock + With Honey for their Meat. + + + +PSAL. LXXXII. + + +1 GOD in the *great *assembly stands *Bagnadath-el + Of Kings and lordly States, + Among the gods* on both his hands. *Bekerev. + He judges and debates. +2 How long will ye *pervert the right *Tishphetu + With *judgment false and wrong gnavel. + Favouring the wicked by your might, + Who thence grow bold and strong? +3 *Regard the *weak and fatherless *Shiphtu-dal. + *Dispatch the *poor mans cause, 10 + And **raise the man in deep distress + By **just and equal Lawes. **Hatzdiku. +4 Defend the poor and desolate, + And rescue from the hands + Of wicked men the low estate + Of him that help demands. +5 They know not nor will understand, + In darkness they walk on, + The Earths foundations all are *mov'd *Jimmotu. + And *out of order gon. 20 +6 I said that ye were Gods, yea all + The Sons of God most high +7 But ye shall die like men, and fall + As other Princes die. +8 Rise God, *judge thou the earth in might, + This wicked earth *redress, *Shiphta. + For thou art he who shalt by right + The Nations all possess. + + + + +PSAL. LXXXIII. + +1 BE not thou silent now at length + O God hold not thy peace, + Sit not thou still O God of strength + We cry and do not cease. +2 For lo thy furious foes now *swell + And *storm outrageously, *Jehemajun. + And they that hate thee proud and fill + Exalt their heads full hie. +3 Against thy people they *contrive *Jagnarimu. + *Their Plots and Counsels deep, *Sod. 10 + *Them to ensnare they chiefly strive *Jithjagnatsu gnal. + *Whom thou dost hide and keep. *Tsephuneca. +4 Come let us cut them off say they, + Till they no Nation be + That Israels name for ever may + Be lost in memory. +5 For they consult *with all their might, *Lev jachdau. + And all as one in mind + Themselves against thee they unite + And in firm union bind. 20 +6 The tents of Edom, and the brood + Of scornful Ishmael, + Moab, with them of Hagars blood + That in the Desart dwell, +7 Gebal and Ammon there conspire, + And hateful Amalec, + The Philistims, and they of Tyre + Whose bounds the sea doth check. +8 With them great Asshur also bands + And doth confirm the knot, 30 + All these have lent their armed hands + To aid the Sons of Lot. +9 Do to them as to Midian bold + That wasted all the Coast. + To Sisera, and as is told + Thou didst to Jabins hoast, + When at the brook of Kishon old + They were repulst and slain, +10 At Endor quite cut off, and rowl'd + As dung upon the plain. 40 +11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped + So let their Princes speed + As Zeba, and Zalmunna bled + So let their Princes bleed. +12 For they amidst their pride have said + By right now shall we seize + Gods houses, and will now invade + *Their stately Palaces. *Neoth Elohim bears both. +13 My God, oh make them as a wheel + No quiet let them find, 50 + Giddy and restless let them reel + Like stubble from the wind. +14 As when an aged wood takes fire + Which on a sudden straies, + The greedy flame runs hier and hier + Till all the mountains blaze, +15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, + And with thy tempest chase; +16 *And till they *yield thee honour due, *They seek thy + Lord fill with shame their face. Name. Heb. +17 Asham'd and troubl'd let them be, 60 + Troubl'd and sham'd for ever, + Ever confounded, and so die + With shame, and scape it never. +18 Then shall they know that thou whose name + Jehova is alone, + Art the most high, and thou the same + O're all the earth art one. + + + +PSAL. LXXXIV. + + +1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! + O Lord of Hoasts, how dear + The pleasant Tabernacles are! + Where thou do'st dwell so near. +2 My Soul doth long and almost die + Thy Courts O Lord to see, + My heart and flesh aloud do crie, + O living God, for thee. +3 There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong + Hath found a house of rest, 10 + The Swallow there, to lay her young + Hath built her brooding nest, + Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts + They find their safe abode, + And home they fly from round the Coasts + Toward thee, My King, my God +4 Happy, who in thy house reside + Where thee they ever praise, +5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, + And in their hearts thy waies. 20 +6 They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale, + That dry and barren ground + As through a fruitfull watry Dale + Where Springs and Showrs abound. +7 They journey on from strength to strength + With joy and gladsom cheer + Till all before our God at length + In Sion do appear. +8 Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier + O Jacobs God give ear, 30 +9 Thou God our shield look on the face + Of thy anointed dear. +10 For one day in thy Courts to be + Is better, and mere blest + Then in the joyes of Vanity, + A thousand daies at best. + I in the temple of my God + Had rather keep a dore, + Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode + With Sin for evermore 40 +11 For God the Lord both Sun and Shield + Gives grace and glory bright, + No good from him shall be with-held + Whose waies are just and right. +12 Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high, + That man is truly blest + Who only on thee doth relie. + And in thee only rest. + + + +PSAL LXXXV. + + +1 THY Land to favour graciously + Thou hast not Lord been slack, + Thou hast from hard Captivity + Returned Jacob back. +2 Th' iniquity thou didst forgive + That wrought thy people woe, + And all their Sin, that did thee grieve + Hast hid where none shall know. +3 Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd, + And calmly didst return 10 + From thy *fierce wrath which we had prov'd *Heb. The burning + Far worse then fire to burn. heat of thy +4 God of our saving health and peace, wrath. + Turn us, and us restore, + Thine indignation cause to cease + Toward us, and chide no more. +5 Wilt thou be angry without end, + For ever angry thus + Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend + From age to age on us? 20 +6 Wilt thou not * turn, and hear our voice * Heb. Turn to + And us again * revive , quicken us. + That so thy people may rejoyce + By thee preserv'd alive. +7 Cause us to see thy goodness Lord, + To us thy mercy shew + Thy saving health to us afford + And lift in us renew. +8 And now what God the Lord will speak + I will go strait and hear, 30 + For to his people he speaks peace + And to his Saints full dear, + To his dear Saints he will speak peace, + But let them never more + Return to folly, but surcease + To trespass as before. +9 Surely to such as do him fear + Salvation is at hand + And glory shall ere long appear + To dwell within our Land. 40 +10 Mercy and Truth that long were miss'd + Now joyfully are met + Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd + And hand in hand are set. +11 Truth from the earth like to a flowr + Shall bud and blossom then, + And Justice from her heavenly bowr + Look down on mortal men. +12 The Lord will also then bestow + Whatever thing is good 50 + Our Land shall forth in plenty throw + Her fruits to be our food. +13 Before him Righteousness shall go + His Royal Harbinger, + Then * will he come, and not be slow *Heb. He will set his + His footsteps cannot err. steps to the way. + + + +PSAL. LXXXVI. + + +1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, encline, + O hear me I thee pray, + For I am poor, and almost pine + With need, and sad decay. +2 Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving, + Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and + Save thou thy servant O my God holy things + Who still in thee doth trust. +3 Pity me Lord for daily thee + I call; 4 O make rejoyce 10 + Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee + I lift my soul and voice, +5 For thou art good, thou Lord art prone + To pardon, thou to all + Art full of mercy, thou alone + To them that on thee call. +6 Unto my supplication Lord + Give ear, and to the crie + Of my incessant praiers afford + Thy hearing graciously. 20 +7 I in the day of my distress + Will call on thee for aid; + For thou wilt grant me free access + And answer, what I pray'd. +8 Like thee among the gods is none + O Lord, nor any works + Of all that other Gods have done + Like to thy glorious works. +9 The Nations all whom thou hast made + Shall come, and all shall frame 30 + To bow them low before thee Lord, + And glorifie thy name. +10 For great thou art, and wonders great + By thy strong hand are done, + Thou in thy everlasting Seat + Remainest God alone. +11 Teach me O Lord thy way most right, + I in thy truth will hide, + To fear thy name my heart unite + So shall it never slide. 40 +12 Thee will I praise O Lord my God + Thee honour, and adore + With my whole heart, and blaze abroad + Thy name for ever more. +13 For great thy mercy is toward me, + And thou hast free'd my Soul + Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free + From deepest darkness foul. +14 O God the proud against me rise + And violent men are met 50 + To seek my life, and in their eyes + No fear of thee have set. +15 But thou Lord art the God most mild + Readiest thy grace to shew, + Slow to be angry, and art stil'd + Most mercifull, most true. +16 O turn to me thy face at length, + And me have mercy on, + Unto thy servant give thy strength, + And save thy hand-maids Son. 60 +17 Some sign of good to me afford, + And let my foes then see + And be asham'd, because thou Lord + Do'st help and comfort me. + + + +PSAL. LXXXVII + + +1 AMONG the holy Mountains high + Is his foundation fast, + There Seated in his Sanctuary, + His Temple there is plac't. +2 Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more + Then all the dwellings faire + Of Jacobs Land, though there be store, + And all within his care. +3 City of God, most glorious things + Of thee abroad are spoke; 10 +4 I mention Egypt, where proud Kings + Did our forefathers yoke, + I mention Babel to my friends, + Philistia full of scorn, + And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends, + Lo this man there was born: +5 But twise that praise shall in our ear + Be said of Sion last + This and this man was born in her, + High God shall fix her fast. 20 +6 The Lord shall write it in a Scrowle + That ne're shall be out-worn + When he the Nations doth enrowle + That this man there was born. +7 Both they who sing, and they who dance + With sacred Songs are there, + In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance + And all my fountains clear. + + + +PSAL. LXXXVIII + + +1 LORD God that dost me save and keep, + All day to thee I cry; + And all night long, before thee weep + Before thee prostrate lie. +2 Into thy presence let my praier + With sighs devout ascend + And to my cries, that ceaseless are, + Thine ear with favour bend. +3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store + Surcharg'd my Soul doth lie, 10 + My life at death's uncherful dore + Unto the grave draws nigh. +4 Reck'n'd I am with them that pass + Down to the dismal pit + I am a *man, but weak alas * Heb. A man without manly + And for that name unfit. strength. +5 From life discharg'd and parted quite + Among the dead to sleep + And like the slain in bloody fight + That in the grave lie deep. 20 + Whom thou rememberest no more, + Dost never more regard, + Them from thy hand deliver'd o're + Deaths hideous house hath barr'd. +6 Thou in the lowest pit profound' + Hast set me all forlorn, + Where thickest darkness hovers round, + In horrid deeps to mourn. +7 Thy wrath from which no shelter saves + Full sore doth press on me; 30 + *Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, *The Heb. + *And all thy waves break me bears both. +8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, + And mak'st me odious, + Me to them odious, for they change, + And I here pent up thus. +9 Through sorrow, and affliction great + Mine eye grows dim and dead, + Lord all the day I thee entreat, + My hands to thee I spread. 40 +10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead, + Shall the deceas'd arise + And praise thee from their loathsom bed + With pale and hollow eyes ? +11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell + On whom the grave hath hold, + Or they who in perdition dwell + Thy faithfulness unfold? +12 In darkness can thy mighty hand + Or wondrous acts be known, 50 + Thy justice in the gloomy land + Of dark oblivion? +13 But I to thee O Lord do cry + E're yet my life be spent, + And up to thee my praier doth hie + Each morn, and thee prevent. +14 Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake, + And hide thy face from me, +15 That am already bruis'd, and *shake *Heb. Prae Concussione. + With terror sent from thee; 60 + Bruz'd, and afflicted and so low + As ready to expire, + While I thy terrors undergo + Astonish'd with thine ire. +16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow + Thy threatnings cut me through. +17 All day they round about me go, + Like waves they me persue. +18 Lover and friend thou hast remov'd + And sever'd from me far. 70 + They fly me now whom I have lov'd, + And as in darkness are. + + +Finis. + + + + +COLLECTION OF PASSAGES TRANSLATED IN THE PROSE WRITINGS. + + + +[From Of Reformation in England, 1641.] + + +Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause +Not thy Conversion, but those rich demains +That the first wealthy Pope receiv'd of thee. +DANTE, Inf. xix. 115. + +Founded in chast and humble Poverty, +'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn, +Impudent whoore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope? +In thy Adulterers, or thy ill got wealth? +Another Constantine comes not in hast. +PETRARCA, Son. 108. + +And to be short, at last his guid him brings +Into a goodly valley, where he sees +A mighty mass of things strangely confus'd +Things that on earth were lost or were abus'd. + . . . . . +Then past he to a flowry Mountain green, +Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously; +This was that gift (if you the truth will have) +That Constantine to good Sylvestro gave. +ARIOSTO, Orl. Fur. xxxiv. 80. + + + +[From Reason of Church Government, 1641.] + + +When I die, let the Earth be roul'd in flames. + + + +[From Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.] + + +Laughing to teach the truth +What hinders? as some teachers give to Boys +Junkets and knacks, that they may learne apace. +HORACE, Sat. 1. 24. + +Jesting decides great things +Stronglier, and better oft than earnest can. +IBID. i. 10. 14. + +'Tis you that say it, not I: you do the deeds +And your ungodly deeds find me the words. +SOPHOCLES, Elec. 624. + + + +[From Areopagitica, 1644.] + + +This is true Liberty, when free-born Men, +Having to advise the Public, may speak free, +Which he who can, and will, deserv's high praise; +Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace, +What can be juster in a state then this? +EURIPIDES, Supp. 438 + + + +[From Tetrachordon, 1645.] + + +Whom do we count a good man, whom but he +Who keeps the laws and statutes of the Senate, +Who judges in great suits and controversies, +Whose witness and opinion wins the cause? +But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood +See his foul inside through his whited skin. +HORACE, Ep. i. 16. 40. + + + +[From The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, 1649.] + + + There can be slaine +No sacrifice to God more acceptable +Than an unjust and wicked king. +SENECA, Herc. Fur. 922. + + + +[From History of Britain, 1670.] + + +Brutus thus addresses Diana in the country of Leogecia. + +Goddess of Shades, and Huntress, who at will +Walk'st on the rowling Sphear, and through the deep, +On thy third Reign the Earth look now, and tell +What Land, what Seat of rest thou bidst me seek, +What certain Seat, where I may worship thee +For aye, with Temples vow'd, and Virgin quires. + +To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana in a Vision that night +thus answer'd. + +Brutus far to the West, in th' Ocean wide +Beyond the Realm of Gaul, a Land there lies, +Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old, +Now void, it fits thy People; thether bend +Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat, +There to thy Sons another Troy shall rise, +And Kings be born of thee, whose dredded might +Shall aw the World, and conquer Nations bold. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: Title page of first (1667) edition of +Paradise Lost follows: + + + + + SAMSON + AGONISTES, + A + DRAMATIC POEM. +------------------------------------------------------------ + The Author + JOHN MILTON +------------------------------------------------------------ + Aristot. Poet. Cap. 6. + Tragedia mimeis praxeos spadaias, &c. +Tragedia est imitatio actionis seriae. &c. Per misericordiam & + metum perficiens talium affectuum lustrationem. +------------------------------------------------------------ +------------------------------------------------------------ + LONDON. + Printed by J.M. for John Starkey at the + Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Bar. + MDCLXXI + + + +SAMSON AGONISTES + + + +Of that sort of Dramatic Poem which is call'd Tragedy. + + +TRAGEDY, as it was antiently compos'd, hath been ever held the +gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other Poems: +therefore said by Aristotle to be of power by raising pity and fear, +or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions, that is +to temper and reduce them to just measure with a kind of delight, +stirr'd up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated. Nor is +Nature wanting in her own effects to make good his assertion: for +so in Physic things of melancholic hue and quality are us'd against +melancholy, sowr against sowr, salt to remove salt humours. +Hence Philosophers and other gravest Writers, as Cicero, Plutarch +and others, frequently cite out of Tragic Poets, both to adorn and +illustrate thir discourse. The Apostle Paul himself thought it not +unworthy to insert a verse of Euripides into the Text of Holy +Scripture, I Cor. 15. 33. and Paraeus commenting on the +Revelation, divides the whole Book as a Tragedy, into Acts +distinguisht each by a Chorus of Heavenly Harpings and Song +between. Heretofore Men in highest dignity have labour'd not a +little to be thought able to compose a Tragedy. Of that honour +Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, then before of his +attaining to the Tyranny. Augustus Caesar also had begun his +Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with what he had +begun. left it unfinisht. Seneca the Philosopher is by some thought +the Author of those Tragedies (at lest the best of them) that go +under that name. Gregory Nazianzen a Father of the Church, +thought it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person to write a +Tragedy which he entitl'd, Christ suffering. This is mention'd to +vindicate Tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which +in the account of many it undergoes at this day with other common +Interludes; hap'ning through the Poets error of intermixing Comic +stuff with Tragic sadness and gravity; or introducing trivial and +vulgar persons, which by all judicious hath bin counted absurd; and +brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratifie the people. And +though antient Tragedy use no Prologue, yet using sometimes, in +case of self defence, or explanation, that which Martial calls an +Epistle; in behalf of this Tragedy coming forth after the antient +manner, much different from what among us passes for best, thus +much before-hand may be Epistl'd; that Chorus is here introduc'd +after the Greek manner, not antient only but modern, and still in +use among the Italians. In the modelling therefore of this Poem +with good reason, the Antients and Italians are rather follow'd, as +of much more authority and fame. The measure of Verse us'd in +the Chorus is of all sorts, call'd by the Greeks Monostrophic, or +rather Apolelymenon, without regard had to Strophe, Antistrophe +or Epod, which were a kind of Stanza's fram'd only for the Music, +then us'd with the Chorus that sung; not essential to the Poem, and +therefore not material; or being divided into Stanza's or Pauses +they may be call'd Allaeostropha. Division into Act and Scene +referring chiefly to the Stage (to which this work never was +intended) is here omitted. + + It suffices if the whole Drama be found not produc't beyond the +fift Act, of the style and uniformitie, and that commonly call'd the +Plot, whether intricate or explicit, which is nothing indeed but such +oeconomy, or disposition of the fable as may stand best with +verisimilitude and decorum; they only will best judge who are not +unacquainted with Aeschulus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the three +Tragic Poets unequall'd yet by any, and the best rule to all who +endeavour to write Tragedy. The circumscription of time wherein +the whole Drama begins and ends, is according to antient rule, and +best example, within the space of 24 hours. + + + +The ARGUMENT. + + +Samson made Captive, Blind, and now in the Prison at Gaza, there +to labour as in a common work-house, on a Festival day, in the +general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open Air, to a +place nigh, somewhat retir'd there to sit a while and bemoan his +condition. Where he happens at length to be visited by certain +friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek +to comfort him what they can ; then by his old Father Manoa, who +endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his +liberty by ransom; lastly, that this Feast was proclaim'd by the +Philistins as a day of Thanksgiving for thir deliverance from the +hands of Samson, which yet more troubles him. Manoa then +departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistian Lords for +Samson's redemption; who in the mean while is visited by other +persons; and lastly by a publick Officer to require coming to the +Feast before the Lords and People, to play or shew his strength in +thir presence; he at first refuses, dismissing the publick officer with +absolute denyal to come; at length perswaded inwardly that this +was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the +second time with great threatnings to fetch him; the Chorus yet +remaining on the place, Manoa returns full of joyful hope, to +procure e're long his Sons deliverance: in the midst of which +discourse an Ebrew comes in haste confusedly at first; and +afterward more distinctly relating the Catastrophe, what Samson +had done to the Philistins, and by accident to himself; wherewith +the Tragedy ends. + + +The Persons + +Samson. +Manoa the father of Samson. +Dalila his wife. +Harapha of Gath. +Publick Officer. +Messenger. +Chorus of Danites + + +The Scene before the Prison in Gaza. + +Sam: A little onward lend thy guiding hand +To these dark steps, a little further on; +For yonder bank hath choice of Sun or shade, +There I am wont to sit, when any chance +Relieves me from my task of servile toyl, +Daily in the common Prison else enjoyn'd me, +Where I a Prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw +The air imprison'd also, close and damp, +Unwholsom draught: but here I feel amends, +The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet, 10 +With day-spring born; here leave me to respire. +This day a solemn Feast the people hold +To Dagon thir Sea-Idol, and forbid +Laborious works, unwillingly this rest +Thir Superstition yields me; hence with leave +Retiring from the popular noise, I seek +This unfrequented place to find some ease, +Ease to the body some, none to the mind +>From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm +Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 20 +But rush upon me thronging, and present +Times past, what once I was, and what am now. +O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold +Twice by an Angel, who at last in sight +Of both my Parents all in flames ascended +>From off the Altar, where an Off'ring burn'd, +As in a fiery column charioting +His Godlike presence, and from some great act +Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race? +Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd 30 +As of a person separate to God, +Design'd for great exploits; if I must dye +Betray'd, Captiv'd, and both my Eyes put out, +Made of my Enemies the scorn and gaze; +To grind in Brazen Fetters under task +With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength +Put to the labour of a Beast, debas't +Lower then bondslave! Promise was that I +Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver; +Ask for this great Deliverer now, and find him 40 +Eyeless in Gaza at the Mill with slaves, +Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke; +Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt +Divine Prediction; what if all foretold +Had been fulfilld but through mine own default, +Whom have I to complain of but my self? +Who this high gift of strength committed to me, +In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me, +Under the Seal of silence could not keep, +But weakly to a woman must reveal it 50 +O'recome with importunity and tears. +O impotence of mind, in body strong ! +But what is strength without a double share +Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensom, +Proudly secure, yet liable to fall +By weakest suttleties, not made to rule, +But to subserve where wisdom bears command. +God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal +How slight the gift was, hung it in my Hair. +But peace, I must not quarrel with the will 60 +Of highest dispensation, which herein +Happ'ly had ends above my reach to know: +Suffices that to me strength is my bane, +And proves the sourse of all my miseries; +So many, and so huge, that each apart +Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all, +O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! +Blind among enemies, O worse then chains, +Dungeon, or beggery, or decrepit age! +Light the prime work of God to me is extinct, +And all her various objects of delight +Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd, +Inferiour to the vilest now become +Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me, +They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd +To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong, +Within doors, or without, still as a fool, +In power of others, never in my own; +Scarce half I seem to live, dead more then half. +O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 80 +Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse +Without all hope of day! +O first created Beam, and thou great Word, +Let there be light, and light was over all; +Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree? +The Sun to me is dark +And silent as the Moon, +When she deserts the night +Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. +Since light so necessary is to life, 90 +And almost life itself, if it be true +That light is in the Soul, +She all in every part; why was the sight +To such a tender ball as th' eye confin'd? +So obvious and so easie to be quench't, +And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd, +That she might look at will through every pore? +Then had I not been thus exil'd from light; +As in the land of darkness yet in light, +To live a life half dead, a living death, 100 +And buried; but O yet more miserable! +My self, my Sepulcher, a moving Grave, +Buried, yet not exempt +By priviledge of death and burial +>From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs, +But made hereby obnoxious more +To all the miseries of life, +Life in captivity +Among inhuman foes. +But who are these? for with joint pace I hear 110 +The tread of many feet stearing this way; +Perhaps my enemies who come to stare +At my affliction, and perhaps to insult, +Thir daily practice to afflict me more. + +Chor: This, this is he; softly a while, +Let us not break in upon him; +O change beyond report, thought, or belief! +See how he lies at random, carelessly diffus'd, +With languish't head unpropt, +As one past hope, abandon'd 120 +And by himself given over; +In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds +O're worn and soild; +Or do my eyes misrepresent? Can this be hee, +That Heroic, that Renown'd, +Irresistible Samson? whom unarm'd +No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could withstand; +Who tore the Lion, as the Lion tears the Kid, +Ran on embattelld Armies clad in Iron, +And weaponless himself, 130 +Made Arms ridiculous, useless the forgery +Of brazen shield and spear, the hammer'd Cuirass, +Chalybean temper'd steel, and frock of mail +Adamantean Proof; +But safest he who stood aloof, +When insupportably his foot advanc't, +In scorn of thir proud arms and warlike tools, +Spurn'd them to death by Troops. The bold Ascalonite +Fled from his Lion ramp, old Warriors turn'd +Thir plated backs under his heel; 140 +Or grovling soild thir crested helmets in the dust. +Then with what trivial weapon came to Hand, +The Jaw of a dead Ass, his sword of bone, +A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestin +In Ramath-lechi famous to this day: +Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders bore +The Gates of Azza, Post, and massie Bar +Up to the Hill by Hebron, seat of Giants old, +No journey of a Sabbath day, and loaded so; +Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n. 150 +Which shall I first bewail, +Thy Bondage or lost Sight, +Prison within Prison +Inseparably dark? +Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!) +The Dungeon of thy self; thy Soul + (Which Men enjoying sight oft without cause complain) +Imprison'd now indeed, +In real darkness of the body dwells, +Shut up from outward light 160 +To incorporate with gloomy night; +For inward light alas +Puts forth no visual beam. +O mirror of our fickle state, +Since man on earth unparallel'd! +The rarer thy example stands, +By how much from the top of wondrous glory, +Strongest of mortal men, +To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n. +For him I reckon not in high estate 170 +Whom long descent of birth +Or the sphear of fortune raises; +But thee whose strength, while vertue was her mate +Might have subdu'd the Earth, +Universally crown'd with highest praises. + +Sam: I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air +Dissolves unjointed e're it reach my ear. + +Chor: Hee speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in might, +The glory late of Israel, now the grief; +We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 180 +>From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful Vale +To visit or bewail thee, or if better, +Counsel or Consolation we may bring, +Salve to thy Sores, apt words have power to swage +The tumors of a troubl'd mind, +And are as Balm to fester'd wounds. + +Sam: Your coming, Friends, revives me, for I learn +Now of my own experience, not by talk, +How counterfeit a coin they are who friends +Bear in their Superscription (of the most 190 +I would be understood) in prosperous days +They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head +Not to be found, though sought. Wee see, O friends. +How many evils have enclos'd me round; +Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, +Blindness, for had I sight, confus'd with shame, +How could I once look up, or heave the head, +Who like a foolish Pilot have shipwrack't, +My Vessel trusted to me from above, +Gloriously rigg'd; and for a word, a tear, 200 +Fool, have divulg'd the secret gift of God +To a deceitful Woman : tell me Friends, +Am I not sung and proverbd for a Fool +In every street, do they not say, how well +Are come upon him his deserts? yet why? +Immeasurable strength they might behold +In me, of wisdom nothing more then mean; +This with the other should, at least, have paird, +These two proportiond ill drove me transverse. + +Chor: Tax not divine disposal, wisest Men 210 +Have err'd, and by bad Women been deceiv'd; +And shall again, pretend they ne're so wise. +Deject not then so overmuch thy self, +Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides; +Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder +Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather +Then of thine own Tribe fairer, or as fair, +At least of thy own Nation, and as noble. + +Sam: The first I saw at Timna, and she pleas'd +Mee, not my Parents, that I sought to wed, 220 +The daughter of an Infidel: they knew not +That what I motion'd was of God; I knew +>From intimate impulse, and therefore urg'd +The Marriage on; that by occasion hence +I might begin Israel's Deliverance, +The work to which I was divinely call'd; +She proving false, the next I took to Wife +(O that I never had ! fond wish too late) +Was in the Vale of Sorec, Dalila, +That specious Monster, my accomplisht snare. 230 +I thought it lawful from my former act, +And the same end; still watching to oppress +Israel's oppressours: of what now I suffer +She was not the prime cause, but I my self, +Who vanquisht with a peal of words (O weakness!) +Gave up my fort of silence to a Woman. + +Chor: In seeking just occasion to provoke +The Philistine, thy Countries Enemy, +Thou never wast remiss, I hear thee witness: +Yet Israel still serves with all his Sons. 240 + +Sam: That fault I take not on me, but transfer +On Israel's Governours, and Heads of Tribes, +Who seeing those great acts which God had done +Singly by me against their Conquerours +Acknowledg'd not, or not at all consider'd +Deliverance offerd : I on th' other side +Us'd no ambition to commend my deeds, +The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the dooer; +But they persisted deaf, and would not seem +To count them things worth notice, till at length 250 +Thir Lords the Philistines with gather'd powers +Enterd Judea seeking mee, who then +Safe to the rock of Etham was retir'd, +Not flying, but fore-casting in what place +To set upon them, what advantag'd best; +Mean while the men of Judah to prevent +The harrass of thir Land, beset me round; +I willingly on some conditions came +Into thir hands, and they as gladly yield me +To the uncircumcis'd a welcom prey, 260 +Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threds +Toucht with the flame: on thir whole Host I flew +Unarm'd, and with a trivial weapon fell'd +Thir choicest youth; they only liv'd who fled. +Had Judah that day join'd, or one whole Tribe, +They had by this possess'd the Towers of Gath, +And lorded over them whom now they serve; +But what more oft in Nations grown corrupt, +And by thir vices brought to servitude, +Then to love Bondage more then Liberty, 270 +Bondage with ease then strenuous liberty; +And to despise, or envy, or suspect +Whom God hath of his special favour rais'd +As thir Deliverer; if he aught begin, +How frequent to desert him, and at last +To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds? + +Chor: Thy words to my remembrance bring +How Succoth and the Fort of Penuel +Thir great Deliverer contemn'd, +The matchless Gideon in pursuit 280 +Of Madian and her vanquisht Kings; +And how ingrateful Ephraim +Not worse then by his shield and spear +Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument, +Defended Israel from the Ammonite, +Had not his prowess quell'd thir pride +In that sore battel when so many dy'd +Without Reprieve adjudg'd to death, +For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. + +Sam: Of such examples adde mee to the roul, 290 +Mee easily indeed mine may neglect, +But Gods propos'd deliverance not so. + +Chor: Just are the ways of God, +And justifiable to Men; +Unless there be who think not God at all, +If any be, they walk obscure; +For of such Doctrine never was there School, +But the heart of the Fool, +And no man therein Doctor but himself. +Yet more there be who doubt his ways not just, 300 +As to his own edicts, found contradicting, +Then give the rains to wandring thought, +Regardless of his glories diminution; +Till by thir own perplexities involv'd +They ravel more, still less resolv'd, +But never find self-satisfying solution. +As if they would confine th' interminable, +And tie him to his own prescript, +Who made our Laws to bind us, not himself, +And hath full right to exempt 310 +Whom so it pleases him by choice +>From National obstriction, without taint +Of sin, or legal debt; +For with his own Laws he can best dispence. +He would not else who never wanted means, +Nor in respect of the enemy just cause +To set his people free, +Have prompted this Heroic Nazarite, +Against his vow of strictest purity, +To seek in marriage that fallacious Bride, 320 +Unclean, unchaste. +Down Reason then, at least vain reasonings down, +Though Reason here aver +That moral verdit quits her of unclean : +Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his. +But see here comes thy reverend Sire +With careful step, Locks white as doune, +Old Manoah: advise +Forthwith how thou oughtst to receive him. + +Sam: Ay me, another inward grief awak't, 330 +With mention of that name renews th' assault. + +Man: Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem, +Though in this uncouth place; if old respect, +As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend, +My Son now Captive, hither hath inform'd +Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age +Came lagging after; say if he be here. + +Chor: As signal now in low dejected state, +As earst in highest; behold him where be lies. + +Man: O miserable change! is this the man, 340 +That invincible Samson, far renown'd, +The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength +Equivalent to Angels walk'd thir streets, +None offering fight; who single combatant +Duell'd thir Armies rank't in proud array, +Himself an Army, now unequal match +To save himself against a coward arm'd +At one spears length. O ever failing trust +In mortal strength! and oh what not in man +Deceivable and vain! Nay what thing good 350 +Pray'd for, but often proves our woe, our bane? +I pray'd for Children, and thought barrenness +In wedlock a reproach; I gain'd a Son, +And such a Son as all Men hail'd me happy; +Who would be now a Father in my stead? +O wherefore did God grant me my request, +And as a blessing with such pomp adorn'd? +Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt +Our earnest Prayers, then giv'n with solemn hand +As Graces, draw a Scorpions tail behind? 360 +For this did the Angel twice descend? for this +Ordain'd thy nurture holy, as of a Plant; +Select, and Sacred, Glorious for a while, +The miracle of men: then in an hour +Ensnar'd, assaulted, overcome, led bound, +Thy Foes derision, Captive, Poor, and Blind +Into a Dungeon thrust, to work with Slaves? +Alas methinks whom God hath chosen once +To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err, +He should not so o'rewhelm, and as a thrall 370 +Subject him to so foul indignities, +Be it but for honours sake of former deeds. + +Sam: Appoint not heavenly disposition, Father, +Nothing of all these evils hath befall'n me +But justly; I my self have brought them on, +Sole Author I, sole cause: if aught seem vile, +As vile hath been my folly, who have profan'd +The mystery of God giv'n me under pledge +Of vow, and have betray'd it to a woman, +A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 380 +This well I knew, nor was at all surpris'd, +But warn'd by oft experience: did not she +Of Timna first betray me, and reveal +The secret wrested from me in her highth +Of Nuptial Love profest, carrying it strait +To them who had corrupted her, my Spies, +And Rivals? In this other was there found +More Faith? who also in her prime of love, +Spousal embraces, vitiated with Gold, +Though offer'd only, by the sent conceiv'd 390 +Her spurious first-born; Treason against me? +Thrice she assay'd with flattering prayers and sighs, +And amorous reproaches to win from me +My capital secret, in what part my strength +Lay stor'd in what part summ'd, that she might know: +Thrice I deluded her, and turn'd to sport +Her importunity, each time perceiving +How openly, and with what impudence +She purpos'd to betray me, and (which was worse +Then undissembl'd hate) with what contempt 400 +She sought to make me Traytor to my self; +Yet the fourth time, when mustring all her wiles, +With blandisht parlies, feminine assaults, +Tongue-batteries, she surceas'd not day nor night +To storm me over-watch't, and wearied out. +At times when men seek most repose and rest, +I yielded, and unlock'd her all my heart, +Who with a grain of manhood well resolv'd +Might easily have shook off all her snares : +But foul effeminacy held me yok't 410 +Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot +To Honour and Religion! servil mind +Rewarded well with servil punishment! +The base degree to which I now am fall'n, +These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base +As was my former servitude, ignoble, +Unmanly, ignominious, infamous, +True slavery, and that blindness worse then this, +That saw not how degeneratly I serv'd. + +Man: I cannot praise thy Marriage choises, Son, 420 +Rather approv'd them not; but thou didst plead +Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st +Find some occasion to infest our Foes. +I state not that; this I am sure; our Foes +Found soon occasion thereby to make thee +Thir Captive, and thir triumph; thou the sooner +Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms +To violate the sacred trust of silence +Deposited within thee; which to have kept +Tacit, was in thy power; true; and thou hear'st 430 +Enough, and more the burden of that fault; +Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying +That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains, +This day the Philistines a popular Feast +Here celebrate in Gaza, and proclaim +Great Pomp, and Sacrifice, and Praises loud +To Dagon, as their God who hath deliver'd +Thee Samson bound and blind into thir hands, +Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slain. +So Dagon shall be magnifi'd, and God, 440 +Besides whom is no God, compar'd with Idols, +Disglorifi'd, blasphem'd, and had in scorn +By th' Idolatrous rout amidst thir wine; +Which to have come to pass by means of thee, +Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, +Of all reproach the most with shame that ever +Could have befall'n thee and thy Fathers house. + +Sam: Father, I do acknowledge and confess +That I this honour, I this pomp have brought +To Dagon, and advanc'd his praises high 450 +Among the Heathen round; to God have brought +Dishonour, obloquie, and op't the mouths +Of Idolists, and Atheists; have brought scandal +To Israel diffidence of God, and doubt +In feeble hearts, propense anough before +To waver, or fall off and joyn with Idols: +Which is my chief affliction, shame and sorrow, +The anguish of my Soul, that suffers not +Mine eie to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest. +This only hope relieves me, that the strife 460 +With me hath end; all the contest is now +'Twixt God and Dagon; Dagon hath presum'd, +Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, +His Deity comparing and preferring +Before the God of Abraham. He, he sure, +Will not connive, or linger, thus provok'd, +But will arise and his great name assert: +Dagon must stoop, and shall e're long receive +Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him +Of all these boasted Trophies won on me, 470 +And with confusion blank his Worshippers. + +Man: With cause this hope relieves thee, and these words +I as a Prophecy receive: for God, +Nothing more certain, will not long defer +To vindicate the glory of his name +Against all competition, nor will long +Endure it, doubtful whether God be Lord, +Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done? +Thou must not in the mean while here forgot +Lie in this miserable loathsom plight 480 +Neglected. I already have made way +To some Philistian Lords, with whom to treat +About thy ransom: well they may by this +Have satisfi'd thir utmost of revenge +By pains and slaveries, worse then death inflicted +On thee, who now no more canst do them harm. + +Sam: Spare that proposal, Father, spare the trouble +Of that sollicitation; let me here, +As I deserve, pay on my punishment; +And expiate, if possible, my crime, 490 +Shameful garrulity. To have reveal'd +Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend, +How hainous had the fact been, how deserving +Contempt, and scorn of all, to be excluded +All friendship, and avoided as a blab, +The mark of fool set on his front? +But I Gods counsel have not kept, his holy secret +Presumptuously have publish'd, impiously, +Weakly at least, and shamefully: A sin +That Gentiles in thir Parables condemn 500 +To thir abyss and horrid pains confin'd. + +Man: Be penitent and for thy fault contrite, +But act not in thy own affliction, Son, +Repent the sin, but if the punishment +Thou canst avoid, selfpreservation bids; +Or th' execution leave to high disposal, +And let another hand, not thine, exact +Thy penal forfeit from thy self; perhaps +God will relent, and quit thee all his debt; +Who evermore approves and more accepts 510 +(Best pleas'd with humble and filial submission) +Him who imploring mercy sues for life, +Then who selfrigorous chooses death as due; +Which argues overjust, and self-displeas'd +For self-offence, more then for God offended. +Reject not then what offerd means, who knows +But God hath set before us, to return thee +Home to thy countrey and his sacred house, +Where thou mayst bring thy off'rings, to avert +His further ire, with praiers and vows renew'd. 520 + +Sam: His pardon I implore; but as for life, +To what end should I seek it? when in strength +All mortals I excell'd, and great in hopes +With youthful courage and magnanimous thoughts +Of birth from Heav'n foretold and high exploits, +Full of divine instinct, after some proof +Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond +The Sons of Anac, famous now and blaz'd, +Fearless of danger, like a petty God +I walk'd about admir'd of all and dreaded 530 +On hostile ground, none daring my affront. +Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell +Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, +Softn'd with pleasure and voluptuous life; +At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge +Of all my strength in the lascivious lap +Of a deceitful Concubine who shore me +Like a tame Weather, all my precious fleece, +Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd, +Shav'n, and disarm'd among my enemies. 540 + +Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, +Which many a famous Warriour overturns, +Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing Rubie +Sparkling; out-pow'rd, the flavor, or the smell, +Or taste that cheers the heart of Gods and men, +Allure thee from the cool Crystalline stream. + +Sam. Where ever fountain or fresh current flow'd +Against the Eastern ray, translucent, pure, +With touch aetherial of Heav'ns fiery rod +I drank, from the clear milkie juice allaying 550 +Thirst, and refresht; nor envy'd them the grape +Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. + +Chor. O madness, to think use of strongest wines +And strongest drinks our chief support of health, +When God with these forbid'n made choice to rear +His mighty Champion, strong above compare, +Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. + + Sam. But what avail'd this temperance, not compleat +Against another object more enticing? +What boots it at one gate to make defence, 560 +And at another to let in the foe +Effeminatly vanquish't? by which means, +Now blind, disheartn'd, sham'd, dishonour'd, quell'd, +To what can I be useful, wherein serve +My Nation, and the work from Heav'n impos'd, +But to sit idle on the houshold hearth, +A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze, +Or pitied object, these redundant locks +Robustious to no purpose clustring down, +Vain monument of strength; till length of years 570 +And sedentary numness craze my limbs +To a contemptible old age obscure. +Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread, +Till vermin or the draff of servil food +Consume me, and oft-invocated death +Hast'n the welcom end of all my pains. + +Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift +Which was expresly giv'n thee to annoy them? +Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, +Inglorious, unimploy'd, with age out-worn. 580 +But God who caus'd a fountain at thy prayer +>From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay +After the brunt of battel, can as easie +Cause light again within thy eies to spring, +Wherewith to serve him better then thou hast; +And I perswade me so; why else this strength +Miraculous yet remaining in those locks? +His might continues in thee not for naught, +Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. + +Sam: All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 590 +That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, +Nor th' other light of life continue long, +But yield to double darkness nigh at hand: +So much I feel my genial spirits droop, +My hopes all flat, nature within me seems +In all her functions weary of herself; +My race of glory run, and race of shame, +And I shall shortly be with them that rest. + +Man. Believe not these suggestions which proceed +>From anguish of the mind and humours black, 600 +That mingle with thy fancy. I however +Must not omit a Fathers timely care +To prosecute the means of thy deliverance +By ransom or how else: mean while be calm, +And healing words from these thy friends admit. + +Sam. O that torment should not be confin'd +To the bodies wounds and sores +With maladies innumerable +In heart, head, brest, and reins; +But must secret passage find 610 +To th' inmost mind, +There exercise all his fierce accidents, +And on her purest spirits prey, +As on entrails, joints, and limbs, +With answerable pains, but more intense, +'Though void of corporal sense. +My griefs not only pain me +As a lingring disease, +But finding no redress, ferment and rage, +Nor less then wounds immedicable 620 +Ranckle, and fester, and gangrene, +To black mortification. +Thoughts my Tormenters arm'd with deadly stings +Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, +Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise +Dire inflammation which no cooling herb +Or rnedcinal liquor can asswage, +Nor breath of Vernal Air from snowy Alp. +Sleep hath forsook and giv'n me o're +To deaths benumming Opium as my only cure. 630 +Thence faintings, swounings of despair, +And sense of Heav'ns desertion. +I was his nursling once and choice delight, +His destin'd from the womb, +Promisd by Heavenly message twice descending. +Under his special eie +Abstemious I grew up and thriv'd amain; +He led me on to mightiest deeds +Above the nerve of mortal arm +Against the uncircumcis'd, our enemies. 640 +But now hath cast me off as never known, +And to those cruel enemies, +Whom I by his appointment had provok't, +Left me all helpless with th' irreparable loss +Of sight, reserv'd alive to be repeated +The subject of thir cruelty, or scorn. +Nor am I in the list of them that hope; +Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless; +This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard, +No long petition, speedy death, 650 +The close of all my miseries, and the balm. + +Chor: Many are the sayings of the wise +In antient and in modern books enroll'd; +Extolling Patience as the truest fortitude; +And to the bearing well of all calamities, +All chances incident to mans frail life +Consolatories writ +With studied argument, and much perswasion sought +Lenient of grief and anxious thought, +But with th' afflicted in his pangs thir sound 680 +Little prevails, or rather seems a tune, +Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint, +Unless he feel within +Some sourse of consolation from above; +Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, +And fainting spirits uphold. +God of our Fathers, what is man! +That thou towards him with hand so various, +Or might I say contrarious, +Temperst thy providence through his short course, 670 +Not evenly, as thou rul'st +The Angelic orders and inferiour creatures mute, +Irrational and brute. +Nor do I name of men the common rout, +That wandring loose about +Grow up and perish, as the summer flie, +Heads without name no more rememberd, +But such as thou hast solemnly elected, +With gifts and graces eminently adorn'd +To some great work, thy glory, 680 +And peoples safety, which in part they effect: +Yet toward these thus dignifi'd, thou oft +Amidst thir highth of noon, +Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard +Of highest favours past +>From thee on them, or them to thee of service. +Nor only dost degrade them, or remit +To life obscur'd, which were a fair dismission, +But throw'st them lower then thou didst exalt them high, +Unseemly falls in human eie, 690 +Too grievous for the trespass or omission, +Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword +Of Heathen and prophane, thir carkasses +To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd: +Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, +And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude. +If these they scape, perhaps in poverty +With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, +Painful diseases and deform'd, 700 +In crude old age; +Though not disordinate, yet causless suffring +The punishment of dissolute days, in fine, +Just or unjust, alike seem miserable, +For oft alike, both come to evil end. +So deal not with this once thy glorious Champion, +The Image of thy strength, and mighty minister. +What do I beg? how hast thou dealt already? +Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn +His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. +But who is this, what thing of Sea or Land? 710 +Femal of sex it seems, +That so bedeckt, ornate, and gay, +Comes this way sailing +Like a stately Ship +Of Tarsus, bound for th' Isles +Of Javan or Gadier +With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, +Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, +Courted by all the winds that hold them play, +An Amber sent of odorous perfume 720 +Her harbinger, a damsel train behind; +Some rich Philistian Matron she may seem, +And now at nearer view, no other certain +Than Dalila thy wife. + +Sam: My Wife, my Traytress, let her not come near me. + +Cho: Yet on she moves, now stands & eies thee fixt, +About t'have spoke, but now, with head declin'd +Like a fair flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps +And words addrest seem into tears dissolv'd, +Wetting the borders of her silk'n veil: 730 +But now again she makes address to speak. + +Dal: With doubtful feet and wavering resolution +I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, +Which to have merited, without excuse, +I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears +May expiate (though the fact more evil drew +In the perverse event then I foresaw) +My penance hath not slack'n'd, though my pardon +No way assur'd. But conjugal affection +Prevailing over fear, and timerous doubt 740 +Hath led me on desirous to behold +Once more thy face, and know of thy estate. +If aught in my ability may serve +To light'n what thou suffer'st, and appease +Thy mind with what amends is in my power, +Though late, yet in some part to recompense +My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. + +Sam: Out, out Hyaena; these are thy wonted arts, +And arts of every woman false like thee, +To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 750 +Then as repentant to submit, beseech, +And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, +Confess, and promise wonders in her change, +Not truly penitent, but chief to try +Her husband, how far urg'd his patience bears, +His vertue or weakness which way to assail: +Then with more cautious and instructed skill +Again transgresses, and again submits; +That wisest and best men full oft beguil'd +With goodness principl'd not to reject 760 +The penitent, but ever to forgive, +Are drawn to wear out miserable days, +Entangl'd with a poysnous bosom snake, +If not by quick destruction soon cut off +As I by thee, to Ages an example. + +Dal: Yet hear me Samson; not that I endeavour +To lessen or extenuate my offence, +But that on th' other side if it be weigh'd +By it self, with aggravations not surcharg'd, +Or else with just allowance counterpois'd 770 +I may, if possible, thy pardon find +The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. +First granting, as I do, it was a weakness +In me, but incident to all our sex, +Curiosity, inquisitive, importune +Of secrets, then with like infirmity +To publish them, both common female faults: +Was it not weakness also to make known +For importunity, that is for naught, +Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety? 780 +To what I did thou shewdst me first the way. +But I to enemies reveal'd, and should not. +Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to womans frailty +E're I to thee, thou to thy self wast cruel. +Let weakness then with weakness come to parl +So near related, or the same of kind, +Thine forgive mine; that men may censure thine +The gentler, if severely thou exact not +More strength from me, then in thy self was found. +And what if Love, which thou interpret'st hate, 790 +The jealousie of Love, powerful of sway +In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee, +Caus'd what I did? I saw thee mutable +Of fancy, feard lest one day thou wouldst leave me +As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore +How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest: +No better way I saw then by importuning +To learn thy secrets, get into my power +Thy key of strength and safety: thou wilt say, +Why then reveal'd? I was assur'd by those 800 +Who tempted me, that nothing was design'd +Against thee but safe custody, and hold: +That made for me, I knew that liberty +Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, +While I at home sate full of cares and fears +Wailing thy absence in my widow'd bed; +Here I should still enjoy thee day and night +Mine and Loves prisoner, not the Philistines, +Whole to my self, unhazarded abroad, +Fearless at home of partners in my love. 810 +These reasons in Loves law have past for good, +Though fond and reasonless to some perhaps: +And Love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much wo, +Yet always pity or pardon hath obtain'd. +Be not unlike all others, not austere +As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. +If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, +In uncompassionate anger do not so. + +Sam: How cunningly the sorceress displays +Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine! 820 +That malice not repentance brought thee hither, +By this appears : I gave, thou say'st, th' example, +I led the way; bitter reproach, but true, +I to my self was false e're thou to me, +Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, +Take to thy wicked deed: which when thou seest +Impartial, self-severe, inexorable, +Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather +Confess it feign'd, weakness is thy excuse, +And I believe it, weakness to resist 830 +Philistian gold: if weakness may excuse, +What Murtherer, what Traytor, Parricide, +Incestuous, Sacrilegious, but may plead it? +All wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore +With God or Man will gain thee no remission. +But Love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage +To satisfie thy lust: Love seeks to have Love; +My love how couldst thou hope, who tookst the way +To raise in me inexpiable hate, +Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd ? 840 +In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shame, +Or by evasions thy crime uncoverst more. + +Dal: Since thou determinst weakness for no plea +In man or woman, though to thy own condemning, +Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, +What sieges girt me round, e're I consented; +Which might have aw'd the best resolv'd of men, +The constantest to have yielded without blame. +It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st, +That wrought with me: thou know'st the Magistrates 850 +And Princes of my countrey came in person, +Sollicited, commanded, threatn'd, urg'd, +Adjur'd by all the bonds of civil Duty +And of Religion, press'd how just it was, +How honourable, how glorious to entrap +A common enemy, who had destroy'd +Such numbers of our Nation : and the Priest +Was not behind, but ever at my ear, +Preaching how meritorious with the gods +It would be to ensnare an irreligious 860 +Dishonourer of Dagon : what had I +To oppose against such powerful arguments? +Only my love of thee held long debate; +And combated in silence all these reasons +With hard contest: at length that grounded maxim +So rife and celebrated in the mouths +Of wisest men; that to the public good +Private respects must yield; with grave authority' +Took full possession of me and prevail'd; +Vertue, as I thought, truth, duty so enjoyning. 870 + +Sam: I thought where all thy circling wiles would end; +In feign'd Religion, smooth hypocrisie. +But had thy love, still odiously pretended, +Bin, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thee +Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. +I before all the daughters of my Tribe +And of my Nation chose thee from among +My enemies, lov'd thee, as too well thou knew'st, +Too well, unbosom'd all my secrets to thee, +Not out of levity, but over-powr'd 880 +By thy request, who could deny thee nothing; +Yet now am judg'd an enemy. Why then +Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband? +Then, as since then, thy countries foe profest: +Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave +Parents and countrey; nor was I their subject, +Nor under their protection but my own, +Thou mine, not theirs: if aught against my life +Thy countrey sought of thee, it sought unjustly, +Against the law of nature, law of nations, 890 +No more thy countrey, but an impious crew +Of men conspiring to uphold thir state +By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends +For which our countrey is a name so dear; +Not therefore to be obey'd. But zeal mov'd thee; +To please thy gods thou didst it; gods unable +To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes +But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction +Of their own deity, Gods cannot be: +Less therefore to be pleas'd, obey'd, or fear'd, 900 +These false pretexts and varnish'd colours failing, +Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear? + +Dal: In argument with men a woman ever +Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause. + +Sam: For want of words no doubt, or lack of breath, +Witness when I was worried with thy peals. + +Dal: I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken +In what I thought would have succeeded best. +Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson, +Afford me place to shew what recompence 910 +Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone, +Misguided: only what remains past cure +Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist +To afflict thy self in vain: though sight be lost, +Life yet hath many solaces, enjoy'd +Where other senses want not their delights +At home in leisure and domestic ease, +Exempt from many a care and chance to which +Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad. +I to the Lords will intercede, not doubting 920 +Thir favourable ear, that I may fetch thee +>From forth this loathsom prison-house, to abide +With me, where my redoubl'd love and care +With nursing diligence, to me glad office, +May ever tend about thee to old age +With all things grateful chear'd, and so suppli'd, +That what by me thou hast lost thou least shalt miss. + +Sam: No, no, of my condition take no care; +It fits not; thou and I long since are twain; +Nor think me so unwary or accurst 930 +To bring my feet again into the snare +Where once I have been caught; I know thy trains +Though dearly to my cost, thy ginns, and toyls; +Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms +No more on me have power, their force is null'd, +So much of Adders wisdom I have learn't +To fence my ear against thy sorceries. +If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men +Lov'd, honour'd, fear'd me, thou alone could hate me +Thy Husband, slight me, sell me, and forgo me; 940 +How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby +Deceiveable, in most things as a child +Helpless, thence easily contemn'd, and scorn'd, +And last neglected? How wouldst thou insult +When I must live uxorious to thy will +In perfet thraldom, how again betray me, +Bearing my words and doings to the Lords +To gloss upon, and censuring, frown or smile? +This Gaol I count the house of Liberty +To thine whose doors my feet shall never enter. 950 + +Dal: Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand. + +Sam: Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake +My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. +At distance I forgive thee, go with that; +Bewail thy falshood, and the pious works +It hath brought forth to make thee memorable +Among illustrious women, faithful wives: +Cherish thy hast'n'd widowhood with the gold +Of Matrimonial treason: so farewel. + +Dal: I see thou art implacable, more deaf 960 +To prayers, then winds and seas, yet winds to seas +Are reconcil'd at length, and Sea to Shore: +Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages, +Eternal tempest never to be calm'd. +Why do I humble thus my self, and suing +For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate? +Bid go with evil omen and the brand +Of infamy upon my name denounc't? +To mix with thy concernments I desist +Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own. 970 +Fame if not double-fac't is double-mouth'd, +And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds, +On both his wings, one black, th' other white, +Bears greatest names in his wild aerie flight. +My name perhaps among the Circumcis'd +In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering Tribes, +To all posterity may stand defam'd, +With malediction mention'd, and the blot +Of falshood most unconjugal traduc't. +But in my countrey where I most desire, 980 +In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath +I shall be nam'd among the famousest +Of Women, sung at solemn festivals, +Living and dead recorded, who to save +Her countrey from a fierce destroyer, chose +Above the faith of wedlock-bands, my tomb +With odours visited and annual flowers. +Not less renown'd then in Mount Ephraim, +Jael who with inhospitable guile +Smote Sisera sleeping through the Temples nail'd. 990 +Nor shall I count it hainous to enjoy +The public marks of honour and reward +Conferr'd upon me, for the piety +Which to my countrey I was judg'd to have shewn. +At this who ever envies or repines +I leave him to his lot, and like my own. + +Chor: She's gone, a manifest Serpent by her sting +Discover'd in the end, till now conceal'd. + +Sam: So let her go, God sent her to debase me, +And aggravate my folly who committed 1000 +To such a viper his most sacred trust +Of secresie, my safety, and my life. + +Chor: Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, +After offence returning, to regain +Love once possest, nor can be easily +Repuls't, without much inward passion felt +And secret sting of amorous remorse. + +Sam: Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, +Not wedlock-trechery endangering life. + +Chor: It is not vertue, wisdom, valour, wit, 1010 +Strength, comliness of shape, or amplest merit +That womans love can win or long inherit; +But what it is, hard is to say, +Harder to hit, +(Which way soever men refer it) +Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day +Or seven, though one should musing sit; +If any of these or all, the Timnian bride +Had not so soon preferr'd +Thy Paranymph, worthless to thee compar'd, 1020 +Successour in thy bed, +Nor both so loosly disally'd +Thir nuptials, nor this last so trecherously +Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. +Is it for that such outward ornament +Was lavish't on thir Sex, that inward gifts +Were left for hast unfinish't, judgment scant, +Capacity not rais'd to apprehend +Or value what is best +In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong? 1030 +Or was too much of self-love mixt, +Of constancy no root infixt, +That either they love nothing, or not long? +What e're it be, to wisest men and best +Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil, +Soft, modest, meek, demure, +Once join'd, the contrary she proves, a thorn +Intestin, far within defensive arms +A cleaving mischief, in his way to vertue +Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms 1040 +Draws him awry enslav'd +With dotage, and his sense deprav'd +To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. +What Pilot so expert but needs must wreck +Embarqu'd with such a Stears-mate at the Helm? +Favour'd of Heav'n who finds +One vertuous rarely found, +That in domestic good combines: +Happy that house! his way to peace is smooth: +But vertue which breaks through all opposition, 1050 +And all temptation can remove, +Most shines and most is acceptable above. +Therefore Gods universal Law +Gave to the man despotic power +Over his female in due awe, +Nor from that right to part an hour, +Smile she or lowre: +So shall he least confusion draw +On his whole life, not sway'd +By female usurpation, nor dismay'd. 1060 +But had we best retire, I see a storm? + +Sam: Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain. + +Chor: But this another kind of tempest brings. + +Sam: Be less abstruse, my riddling days are past. + +Chor: Look now for no inchanting voice, nor fear +The bait of honied words; a rougher tongue +Draws hitherward, I know him by his stride, +The Giant Harapha of Gath, his look +Haughty as is his pile high-built and proud. +Comes he in peace? what wind hath blown him hither 1070 +I less conjecture then when first I saw +The sumptuous Dalila floating this way: +His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. + +Sam: Or peace or not, alike to me he comes. + +Chor: His fraught we soon shall know, he now arrives. + +Har: I come not Samson, to condole thy chance, +As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been, +Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath, +Men call me Harapha, of stock renown'd +As Og or Anak and the Emims old 1080 +That Kiriathaim held, thou knowst me now +If thou at all art known. Much I have heard +Of thy prodigious might and feats perform'd +Incredible to me, in this displeas'd, +That I was never present on the place +Of those encounters, where we might have tri'd +Each others force in camp or listed field: +And now am come to see of whom such noise +Hath walk'd about, and each limb to survey, +If thy appearance answer loud report. 1090 + +Sam: The way to know were not to see but taste. + +Har: Dost thou already single me; I thought +Gives and the Mill had tam'd thee? O that fortune +Had brought me to the field where thou art fam'd +To have wrought such wonders with an Asses Jaw; +I should have forc'd thee soon with other arms, +Or left thy carkass where the Ass lay thrown: +So had the glory of Prowess been recover'd +To Palestine, won by a Philistine +>From the unforeskinn'd race, of whom thou hear'st 1100 +The highest name for valiant Acts, that honour +Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, +I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. + +Sam: Boast not of what thou wouldst have done, but do +What then thou would'st, thou seest it in thy hand. + +Har: To combat with a blind man I disdain +And thou hast need much washing to be toucht. + +Sam: Such usage as your honourable Lords +Afford me assassinated and betray'd, +Who durst not with thir whole united powers 1110 +In fight withstand me single and unarm'd, +Nor in the house with chamber Ambushes +Close-banded durst attaque me, no not sleeping, +Till they had hir'd a woman with their gold +Breaking her Marriage Faith to circumvent me. +Therefore without feign'd shifts let be assign'd +Some narrow place enclos'd, where sight may give thee. +Or rather flight, no great advantage on me; +Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy Helmet +And Brigandine of brass, thy broad Habergeon. 1120 +Vant-brass and Greves, and Gauntlet, add thy Spear +A Weavers beam, and seven-times-folded shield. +I only with an Oak'n staff will meet thee, +And raise such out-cries on thy clatter'd Iron, +Which long shall not with-hold mee from thy head, +That in a little time while breath remains thee, +Thou oft shalt wish thy self at Gath to boast +Again in safety what thou wouldst have done +To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. + +Har: Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms 1130 +Which greatest Heroes have in battel worn, +Thir ornament and safety, had not spells +And black enchantments, some Magicians Art +Arm'd thee or charm'd thee strong, which thou from Heaven +Feigndst at thy birth was giv'n thee in thy hair, +Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs +Were bristles rang'd like those that ridge the back +Of chaf't wild Boars, or ruffl'd Porcupines. + +Sam: I know no Spells, use no forbidden Arts; +My trust is in the living God who gave me 1140 +At my Nativity this strength, diffus'd +No less through all my sinews, joints and bones, +Then thine, while I preserv'd these locks unshorn, +The pledge of my unviolated vow. +For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god, +Go to his Temple, invocate his aid +With solemnest devotion, spread before him +How highly it concerns his glory now +To frustrate and dissolve these Magic spells, +Which I to be the power of Israel's God 1150 +Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test, +Offering to combat thee his Champion bold, +With th' utmost of his Godhead seconded: +Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow +Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. + +Har: Presume not on thy God, what e're he be, +Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off +Quite from his people, and delivered up +Into thy Enemies hand, permitted them +To put out both thine eyes, and fetter'd send thee 1160 +Into the common Prison, there to grind +Among the Slaves and Asses thy comrades, +As good for nothing else, no better service +With those, thy boyst'rous locks, no worthy match +For valour to assail, nor by the sword +Of noble Warriour, so to stain his honour, +But by the Barbers razor best subdu'd. + +Sam: All these indignities, for such they are +>From thine, these evils I deserve and more, +Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 1170 +Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon +Whose ear is ever open; and his eye +Gracious to re-admit the suppliant; +In confidence whereof I once again +Defie thee to the trial of mortal fight, +By combat to decide whose god is God, +Thine or whom I with Israel's Sons adore. + +Har: Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting +He will accept thee to defend his cause, +A Murtherer, a Revolter, and a Robber. 1180 + +Sam: Tongue-doubtie Giant, how dost thou prove me these? + +Har: Is not thy Nation subject to our Lords? +Thir Magistrates confest it, when they took thee +As a League-breaker and deliver'd bound +Into our hands: for hadst thou not committed +Notorious murder on those thirty men +At Askalon, who never did thee harm, +Then like a Robber stripdst them of thir robes? +The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league, +Went up with armed powers thee only seeking, 1190 +To others did no violence nor spoil. + +Sam: Among the Daughters of the Philistines +I chose a Wife, which argu'd me no foe; +And in your City held my Nuptial Feast: +But your ill-meaning Politician Lords, +Under pretence of Bridal friends and guests, +Appointed to await me thirty spies, +Who threatning cruel death constrain'd the bride +To wring from me and tell to them my secret, +That solv'd the riddle which I had propos'd. 1200 +When I perceiv'd all set on enmity, +As on my enemies, where ever chanc'd, +I us'd hostility, and took thir spoil +To pay my underminers in thir coin. +My Nation was subjected to your Lords. +It was the force of Conquest; force with force +Is well ejected when the Conquer'd can. +But I a private person, whom my Countrey +As a league-breaker gave up bound, presum'd +Single Rebellion and did Hostile Acts. 1210 +I was no private but a person rais'd +With strength sufficient and command from Heav'n +To free my Countrey; if their servile minds +Me their Deliverer sent would not receive, +But to thir Masters gave me up for nought, +Th' unworthier they; whence to this day they serve. +I was to do my part from Heav'n assign'd, +And had perform'd it if my known offence +Had not disabl'd me, not all your force: +These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant 1220 +Though by his blindness maim'd for high attempts, +Who now defies thee thrice to single fight, +As a petty enterprise of small enforce. + +Har: With thee a Man condemn'd, a Slave enrol'd, +Due by the Law to capital punishment? +To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. + +Sam: Cam'st thou for this, vain boaster, to survey me, +To descant on my strength, and give thy verdit? +Come nearer, part not hence so slight inform'd; +But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 1230 +Har: O Baal-zebub! can my ears unus'd +Hear these dishonours, and not render death? + +Sam: No man with-holds thee, nothing from thy hand +Fear I incurable; bring up thy van, +My heels are fetter'd, but my fist is free. + +Har: This insolence other kind of answer fits. + +Sam: Go baffl'd coward, lest I run upon thee, +Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast, +And with one buffet lay thy structure low, +Or swing thee in the Air, then dash thee down 1240 +To the hazard of thy brains and shatter'd sides. + +Har: By Astaroth e're long thou shalt lament +These braveries in Irons loaden on thee. + +Chor: His Giantship is gone somewhat crestfall'n, +Stalking with less unconsci'nable strides, +And lower looks, but in a sultrie chafe. + +Sam: I dread him not, nor all his Giant-brood, +Though Fame divulge him Father of five Sons +All of Gigantic size, Goliah chief. + +Chor: He will directly to the Lords, I fear, 1250 +And with malitious counsel stir them up +Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. + +Sam: He must allege some cause, and offer'd fight +Will not dare mention, lest a question rise +Whether he durst accept the offer or not, +And that he durst not plain enough appear'd. +Much more affliction then already felt +They cannot well impose, nor I sustain; +If they intend advantage of my labours +The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 1260 +With no small profit daily to my owners. +But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove +My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence, +The worst that he can give, to me the best. +Yet so it may fall out, because thir end +Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine +Draw thir own ruin who attempt the deed. + +Chor: Oh how comely it is and how reviving +To the Spirits of just men long opprest! +When God into the hands of thir deliverer 1270 +Puts invincible might +To quell the mighty of the Earth, th' oppressour, +The brute and boist'rous force of violent men +Hardy and industrious to support +Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue +The righteous and all such as honour Truth; +He all thir Ammunition +And feats of War defeats +With plain Heroic magnitude of mind +And celestial vigour arm'd, 1270 +Thir Armories and Magazins contemns, +Renders them useless, while +With winged expedition +Swift as the lightning glance he executes +His errand on the wicked, who surpris'd +Lose thir defence distracted and amaz'd. +But patience is more oft the exercise +Of Saints, the trial of thir fortitude, +Making them each his own Deliverer, +And Victor over all 1290 +That tyrannie or fortune can inflict, +Either of these is in thy lot, +Samson, with might endu'd +Above the Sons of men; but sight bereav'd +May chance to number thee with those +Whom Patience finally must crown. +This Idols day hath bin to thee no day of rest, +Labouring thy mind +More then the working day thy hands, +And yet perhaps more trouble is behind. 1300 +For I descry this way +Some other tending, in his hand +A Scepter or quaint staff he bears, +Comes on amain, speed in his look. +By his habit I discern him now +A Public Officer, and now at hand. +His message will be short and voluble. + +Off: Ebrews, the Pris'ner Samson here I seek. + +Chor: His manacles remark him, there he sits. + +Off: Samson, to thee our Lords thus bid me say; 1310 +This day to Dagon is a solemn Feast, +With Sacrifices, Triumph, Pomp, and Games; +Thy strength they know surpassing human rate, +And now some public proof thereof require +To honour this great Feast, and great Assembly; +Rise therefore with all speed and come along, +Where I will see thee heartn'd and fresh clad +To appear as fits before th' illustrious Lords. + +Sam: Thou knowst I am an Ebrew, therefore tell them, +Our Law forbids at thir Religious Rites 1320 +My presence; for that cause I cannot come. + +Off: This answer, be assur'd, will not content them. + +Sam: Have they not Sword-players, and ev'ry sort +Of Gymnic Artists, Wrestlers, Riders, Runners, +Juglers and Dancers, Antics, Mummers, Mimics, +But they must pick me out with shackles tir'd, +And over-labour'd at thir publick Mill, +To make them sport with blind activity? +Do they not seek occasion of new quarrels +On my refusal to distress me more, 1330 +Or make a game of my calamities? +Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come. + +Off: Regard thy self, this will offend them highly. + +Sam: My self? my conscience and internal peace. +Can they think me so broken, so debas'd +With corporal servitude, that my mind ever +Will condescend to such absurd commands? +Although thir drudge, to be thir fool or jester, +And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief +To shew them feats, and play before thir god, 1340 +The worst of all indignities, yet on me +Joyn'd with extream contempt? I will not come. + +Off: My message was impos'd on me with speed, +Brooks no delay: is this thy resolution? + +Sam: So take it with what speed thy message needs. + +Off : I am sorry what this stoutness will produce. + +Sam: Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow indeed. + +Chor: Consider, Samson; matters now are strain'd +Up to the highth, whether to bold or break; +He's gone, and who knows how he may report 1350 +Thy words by adding fuel to the flame? +Expect another message more imperious, +More Lordly thund'ring then thou well wilt bear. + +Sam: Shall I abuse this Consecrated gift +Of strength, again returning with my hair +After my great transgression, so requite +Favour renew'd, and add a greater sin +By prostituting holy things to Idols; +A Nazarite in place abominable +Vaunting my strength in honour to thir Dagon? 1360 +Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous, +What act more execrably unclean, prophane? + +Chor: Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Philistines, +Idolatrous, uncircumcis'd, unclean. + +Sam: Not in thir Idol-worship, but by labour +Honest and lawful to deserve my food +Of those who have me in thir civil power. + +Chor: Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile not + +Sam: Where outward force constrains, the sentence holds: +But who constrains me to the Temple of Dagon, 1370 +Not dragging? the Philistian Lords command. +Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, +I do it freely; venturing to displease +God for the fear of Man, and Man prefer, +Set God behind: which in his jealousie +Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. +Yet that he may dispense with me or thee +Present in Temples at Idolatrous Rites +For some important cause, thou needst not doubt. + +Chor: How thou wilt here come off surmounts my reach. 1380 + +Sam: Be of good courage, I begin to feel +Some rouzing motions in me which dispose +To something extraordinary my thoughts. +I with this Messenger will go along, +Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour +Our Law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. +If there be aught of presage in the mind, +This day will be remarkable in my life +By some great act, or of my days the last. + +Chor: In time thou hast resolv'd, the man returns. 1390 + +Off: Samson, this second message from our Lords +To thee I am bid say. Art thou our Slave, +Our Captive, at the public Mill our drudge, +And dar'st thou at our sending and command +Dispute thy coming? come without delay; +Or we shall find such Engines to assail +And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force, +Though thou wert firmlier fastn'd then a rock. + +Sam: I could be well content to try thir Art, +Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 1400 +Yet knowing thir advantages too many, +Because they shall not trail me through thir streets +Like a wild Beast, I am content to go. +Masters commands come with a power resistless +To such as owe them absolute subjection; +And for a life who will not change his purpose? +(So mutable are all the ways of men) +Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply +Scandalous or forbidden in our Law. + +Off: I praise thy resolution, doff these links: 1410 +By this compliance thou wilt win the Lords +To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. + +Sam: Brethren farewel, your company along +I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them +To see me girt with Friends; and how the sight +Of me as of a common Enemy, +So dreaded once, may now exasperate them +I know not. Lords are Lordliest in thir wine, +And the well-feasted Priest then soonest fir'd +With zeal, if aught Religion seem concern'd: 1420 +No less the people on thir Holy-days +Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable; +Happ'n what may, of me expect to hear +Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy +Our God, our Law, my Nation, or my self, +The last of me or no I cannot warrant. + +Chor: Go, and the Holy One +Of Israel be thy guide +To what may serve his glory best, & spread his name +Great among the Heathen round: 1430 +Send thee the Angel of thy Birth, to stand +Fast by thy side, who from thy Fathers field +Rode up in flames after his message told +Of thy conception, and be now a shield +Of fire; that Spirit that first rusht on thee +In the camp of Dan +Be efficacious in thee now at need. +For never was from Heaven imparted +Measure of strength so great to mortal seed, +As in thy wond'rous actions Hath been seen. 1440 +But wherefore comes old Manoa in such hast +With youthful steps? much livelier than e're while +He seems: supposing here to find his Son, +Or of him bringing to us some glad news? + +Man: Peace with you brethren; my inducement hither +Was not at present here to find my Son, +By order of the Lords new parted hence +To come and play before them at thir Feast. +I heard all as I came, the City rings +And numbers thither flock, I had no will, 1450 +Lest I should see him forc't to things unseemly. +But that which moved my coming now, was chiefly +To give ye part with me what hope I have +With good success to work his liberty. + +Chor: That hope would much rejoyce us to partake +With thee; say reverend Sire, we thirst to hear. + +Man: I have attempted one by one the Lords +Either at home, or through the high street passing, +With supplication prone and Fathers tears +To accept of ransom for my Son thir pris'ner, 1460 +Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh, +Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite; +That part most reverenc'd Dagon and his Priests, +Others more moderate seeming, but thir aim +Private reward, for which both God and State +They easily would set to sale, a third +More generous far and civil, who confess'd +They had anough reveng'd, having reduc't +Thir foe to misery beneath thir fears, +The rest was magnanimity to remit, 1470 +If some convenient ransom were propos'd. +What noise or shout was that? it tore the Skie. + +Chor: Doubtless the people shouting to behold +Thir once great dread, captive, & blind before them, +Or at some proof of strength before them shown. + +Man: His ransom, if my whole inheritance +May compass it, shall willingly be paid +And numberd down: much rather I shall chuse +To live the poorest in my Tribe, then richest, +And he in that calamitous prison left. 1480 +No, I am fixt not to part hence without him. +For his redemption all my Patrimony, +If need be, I am ready to forgo +And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing. + +Chor: Fathers are wont to lay up for thir Sons, +Thou for thy Son art bent to lay out all; +Sons wont to nurse thir Parents in old age, +Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy Son, +Made older then thy age through eye-sight lost. + +Man: It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 1490 +And view him sitting in the house, enobl'd +With all those high exploits by him atchiev'd, +And on his shoulders waving down those locks, +That of a Nation arm'd the strength contain'd: +And I perswade me God had not permitted +His strength again to grow up with his hair +Garrison'd round about him like a Camp +Of faithful Souldiery, were not his purpose +To use him further yet in some great service, +Not to sit idle with so great a gift 1500 +Useless, and thence ridiculous about him. +And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, +God will restore him eye-sight to his strength. + +Chor: Thy hopes are not ill founded nor seem vain +Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon +Conceiv'd, agreeable to a Fathers love, +In both which we, as next participate. + +Man: I know your friendly minds and -- O what noise! +Mercy of Heav'n what hideous noise was that! +Horribly loud unlike the former shout. 1510 + +Chor: Noise call you it or universal groan +As if the whole inhabitation perish'd, +Blood, death, and deathful deeds are in that noise, +Ruin, destruction at the utmost point. + +Man: Of ruin indeed methought I heard the noise, +Oh it continues, they have slain my Son. + +Chor: Thy Son is rather slaying them, that outcry +>From slaughter of one foe could not ascend. + +Man: Some dismal accident it needs must be; +What shall we do, stay here or run and see? 1520 + +Chor: Best keep together here, lest running thither +We unawares run into dangers mouth. +This evil on the Philistines is fall'n +>From whom could else a general cry be heard? +The sufferers then will scarce molest us here, +>From other hands we need not much to fear. +What if his eye-sight (for to Israels God +Nothing is hard) by miracle restor'd, +He now be dealing dole among his foes, +And over heaps of slaughter'd walk his way? 1530 + +Man: That were a joy presumptuous to be thought. + +Chor: Yet God hath wrought things as incredible +For his people of old; what hinders now? + +Man: He can I know, but doubt to think be will; +Yet Hope would fain subscribe, and tempts Belief. +A little stay will bring some notice hither. + +Chor: Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner; +For evil news rides post, while good news baits. +And to our wish I see one hither speeding, +An Ebrew, as I guess, and of our Tribe. 1540 + +Mess: O whither shall I run, or which way flie +The sight of this so horrid spectacle +Which earst my eyes beheld and yet behold; +For dire imagination still persues me. +But providence or instinct of nature seems, +Or reason though disturb'd, and scarse consulted +To have guided me aright, I know not how, +To thee first reverend Manoa, and to these +My Countreymen, whom here I knew remaining, +As at some distance from the place of horrour, 1550 +So in the sad event too much concern'd. + +Man: The accident was loud, & here before thee +With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not, +No Preface needs, thou seest we long to know. + +Mess: It would burst forth, but I recover breath +And sense distract, to know well what I utter. + +Man: Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. + +Mess: Gaza yet stands, but all her Sons are fall'n, +All in a moment overwhelm'd and fall'n. + +Man: Sad, but thou knowst to Israelites not saddest 1560 +The desolation of a Hostile City. + +Mess: Feed on that first, there may in grief be surfet. + +Man: Relate by whom. + Mess: By Samson. + +Man: That still lessens +The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. + +Mess: Ah Manoa I refrain, too suddenly +To utter what will come at last too soon; +Lest evil tidings with too rude irruption +Hitting thy aged ear should pierce too deep. + +Man: Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. + +Mess: Then take the worst in brief, Samson is dead. 1570 + +Man: The worst indeed, O all my hope's defeated +To free him hence! but death who sets all free +Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. +What windy joy this day had I conceiv'd +Hopeful of his Delivery, which now proves +Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring +Nipt with the lagging rear of winters frost. +Yet e're I give the rains to grief, say first, +How dy'd he? death to life is crown or shame. +All by him fell thou say'st, by whom fell he, 1580 +What glorious band gave Samson his deaths wound? + +Mess: Unwounded of his enemies he fell. + +Man: Wearied with slaughter then or how? explain. + +Mess: By his own hands. + Man: Self-violence? what cause +Brought him so soon at variance with himself +Among his foes? + Mess: Inevitable cause +At once both to destroy and be destroy'd; +The Edifice where all were met to see him +Upon thir heads and on his own he pull'd. + +Man: O lastly over-strong against thy self! 1590 +A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. +More than anough we know; but while things yet +Are in confusion, give us if thou canst, +Eye-witness of what first or last was done, +Relation more particular and distinct. + +Mess: Occasions drew me early to this City, +And as the gates I enter'd with Sun-rise, +The morning Trumpets Festival proclaim'd +Through each high street: little I had dispatch't +When all abroad was rumour'd that this day 1600 +Samson should be brought forth to shew the people +Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games; +I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded +Not to be absent at that spectacle. +The building was a spacious Theatre +Half round on two main Pillars vaulted high, +With seats where all the Lords and each degree +Of sort, might sit in order to behold, +The other side was op'n, where the throng +On banks and scaffolds under Skie might stand; 1610 +I among these aloof obscurely stood. +The Feast and noon grew high, and Sacrifice +Had fill'd thir hearts with mirth, high chear, & wine, +When to thir sports they turn'd. Immediately +Was Samson as a public servant brought, +In thir state Livery clad; before him Pipes +And Timbrels, on each side went armed guards, +Both horse and foot before him and behind +Archers, and Slingers, Cataphracts and Spears. +At sight of him the people with a shout 1620 +Rifted the Air clamouring thir god with praise, +Who had made thir dreadful enemy thir thrall. +He patient but undaunted where they led him. +Came to the place, and what was set before him +Which without help of eye, might be assay'd, +To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd +All with incredible, stupendious force, +None daring to appear Antagonist. +At length for intermission sake they led him +Between the pillars; he his guide requested 1630 +(For so from such as nearer stood we heard) +As over-tir'd to let him lean a while +With both his arms on those two massie Pillars +That to the arched roof gave main support. +He unsuspitious led him; which when Samson +Felt in his arms, with head a while enclin'd, +And eyes fast fixt he stood, as one who pray'd, +Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd. +At last with head erect thus cryed aloud, +Hitherto, Lords, what your commands impos'd 1640 +I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying, +Not without wonder or delight beheld. +Now of my own accord such other tryal +I mean to shew you of my strength, yet greater; +As with amaze shall strike all who behold. +This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd, +As with the force of winds and waters pent, +When Mountains tremble, those two massie Pillars +With horrible convulsion to and fro, +He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 1650 +The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder +Upon the heads of all who sate beneath, +Lords, Ladies, Captains, Councellors, or Priests, +Thir choice nobility and flower, not only +Of this but each Philistian City round +Met from all parts to solemnize this Feast. +Samson with these immixt, inevitably +Pulld down the same destruction on himself; +The vulgar only scap'd who stood without. + +Chor: O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! 1660 +Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd +The work for which thou wast foretold +To Israel and now ly'st victorious +Among thy slain self-kill'd +Not willingly, but tangl'd in the fold +Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd +Thee with thy slaughter'd foes in number more +Then all thy life had slain before. + +Semichor: While thir hearts were jocund and sublime +Drunk with Idolatry, drunk with Wine, 1670 +And fat regorg'd of Bulls and Goats, +Chaunting thir Idol, and preferring +Before our living Dread who dwells +In Silo his bright Sanctuary: +Among them he a spirit of phrenzie sent, +Who hurt thir minds, +And urg'd them on with mad desire +To call in hast for thir destroyer; +They only set on sport and play +Unweetingly importun'd 1680 +Thir own destruction to come speedy upon them. +So fond are mortal men +Fall'n into wrath divine, +As thir own ruin on themselves to invite, +Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, +And with blindness internal struck. + +Semichor: But he though blind of sight, +Despis'd and thought extinguish't quite, +With inward eyes illuminated +His fierie vertue rouz'd 1690 +>From under ashes into sudden flame, +And as an ev'ning Dragon came, +Assailant on the perched roosts, +And nests in order rang'd +Of tame villatic Fowl; but as an Eagle +His cloudless thunder bolted on thir heads. +So vertue giv'n for lost, +Deprest, and overthrown, as seem'd, +Like that self-begott'n bird +In the Arabian woods embost, 1700 +That no second knows nor third, +And lay e're while a Holocaust, +>From out her ashie womb now teem'd +Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most +When most unactive deem'd, +And though her body die, her fame survives, +A secular bird ages of lives. + +Man: Come, come, no time for lamentation now, +Nor much more cause, Samson hath quit himself +Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd 1710 +A life Heroic, on his Enemies +Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning, +And lamentation to the Sons of Caphtor +Through all Philistian bounds. To Israel +Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them +Find courage to lay hold on this occasion, +To himself and Fathers house eternal fame; +And which is best and happiest yet, all this +With God not parted from him, as was feard, +But favouring and assisting to the end. 1720 +Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail +Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, +Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, +And what may quiet us in a death so noble. +Let us go find the body where it lies +Sok't in his enemies blood, and from the stream +With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off +The clotted gore. I with what speed the while +(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) +Will send for all my kindred, all my friends 1730 +To fetch him hence and solemnly attend +With silent obsequie and funeral train +Home to his Fathers house: there will I build him +A Monument, and plant it round with shade +Of Laurel ever green, and branching Palm, +With all his Trophies hung, and Acts enroll'd +In copious Legend, or sweet Lyric Song. +Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, +And from his memory inflame thir breasts +To matchless valour, and adventures high: 1740 +The Virgins also shall on feastful days +Visit his Tomb with flowers, only bewailing +His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, +>From whence captivity and loss of eyes. + +Chor: All is best, though we oft doubt, +What th' unsearchable dispose +Of highest wisdom brings about, +And ever best found in the close. +Oft he seems to hide his face, +But unexpectedly returns 1750 +And to his faithful Champion hath in place +Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns +And all that band them to resist +His uncontroulable intent, +His servants he with new acquist +Of true experience from this great event +With peace and consolation hath dismist, +And calm of mind all passion spent. + +The End. + + + + +APPENDIX. + +Specimen of Milton's spelling, from the Cambridge autograph +manuscript. + + +ON TIME + +set on a clock case + +Fly envious Time till thou run out thy race +call on the lazie leaden-stepping howres +whose speed is but the heavie plummets pace +& glut thy selfe wth what thy womb devoures +Wch is no more then what is false & vaine +& meerly mortall drosse +so little is our losse +so little is thy gaine +for when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd +& last of all thy greedie selfe consum'd 10 +then long Aeternity shall greet our blisse +wth an individuall kisse +and Joy shall overtake us as a flood +when every thing yt is sincerely good +& pfectly divine +with Truth, & Peace, & Love shall ever shine +about the supreme throne +of him t' whose happy-making sight alone +when once our heav'nly-guided soule shall clime +then all this earthie grossnesse quit 20 +attir'd wth starres wee shall for ever sit +Triumphing over Death, & Chance, & thee O Time. + diff --git a/datasets/bard/richard-ii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/richard-ii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..973b02c --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/richard-ii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4257 @@ +Richard II +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/richard-ii/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING RICHARD II +Richard's friends: + Sir John BUSHY + Sir John BAGOT + Sir Henry GREEN +Richard's QUEEN +Queen's LADIES-IN-WAITING +JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster +HENRY BOLINGBROKE, Duke of HEREFORD, son to John of Gaunt, and later King Henry IV +DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, widow to Thomas, Duke of Gloucester +Edmund, DUKE OF YORK +DUCHESS OF YORK +DUKE OF AUMERLE, Earl of Rutland, son to Duke and Duchess of York +York's SERVINGMEN +Thomas MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk +Officials in trial by combat: + LORD MARSHAL + FIRST HERALD + SECOND HERALD +Supporters of King Richard: + EARL OF SALISBURY + BISHOP OF CARLISLE + SIR STEPHEN SCROOP + LORD BERKELEY + ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER + WELSH CAPTAIN +Supporters of Bolingbroke: + Henry Percy, EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND + LORD ROSS + LORD WILLOUGHBY + HARRY PERCY, son of Northumberland, later known as "Hotspur" +LORD FITZWATER +DUKE OF SURREY +ANOTHER LORD +GARDENER +Gardener's Servingmen +GROOM of Richard's stable +KEEPER of prison at Pomfret Castle +SIR PIERCE OF EXTON +Servingmen to Exton +Lords, Attendants, Officers, Soldiers, Servingmen, Exton's Men + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles +and Attendants.] + + +KING RICHARD +Old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, +Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +GAUNT I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him +If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aimed at your Highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD +Then call them to our presence. +[An Attendant exits.] +Face to face +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak. +High stomached are they both and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +[Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befall +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege. + +MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown. + +KING RICHARD +We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come: +Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +BOLINGBROKE +First--heaven be the record to my speech!-- +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tend'ring the precious safety of my prince +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence.-- +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee; +And mark my greeting well, for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat, +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right-drawn sword may +prove. + +MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal. +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamor of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain. +The blood is hot that must be cooled for this. +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hushed and naught at all to say. +First, the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech, +Which else would post until it had returned +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him, +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain, +Which to maintain I would allow him odds +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps +Or any other ground inhabitable +Wherever Englishman durst set his foot. +Meantime let this defend my loyalty: +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +BOLINGBROKE, [throwing down a gage] +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the King, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honor's pawn, then stoop. +By that and all the rites of knighthood else +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke or thou canst worse devise. + +MOWBRAY, [picking up the gage] +I take it up, and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial; +And when I mount, alive may I not light +If I be traitor or unjustly fight. + +KING RICHARD +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +BOLINGBROKE +Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true: +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your Highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detained for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say, and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was surveyed by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and +spring. +Further I say, and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of +blood, +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth +To me for justice and rough chastisement. +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD +How high a pitch his resolution soars!-- +Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this? + +MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now by my scepter's awe I make a vow: +Such neighbor nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou. +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his Highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen. +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not, but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case.-- +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honorable father to my foe, +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul. +But ere I last received the sacrament, +I did confess it and exactly begged +Your Grace's pardon, and I hope I had it.-- +This is my fault. As for the rest appealed, +It issues from the rancor of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor, +Which in myself I boldly will defend, +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +[He throws down a gage.] +To prove myself a loyal gentleman, +Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom; +In haste whereof most heartily I pray +Your Highness to assign our trial day. +[Bolingbroke picks up the gage.] + +KING RICHARD +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me. +Let's purge this choler without letting blood. +This we prescribe, though no physician. +Deep malice makes too deep incision. +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed. +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.-- +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age.-- +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +GAUNT When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +[Mowbray kneels.] +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame. +The one my duty owes, but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonor's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD Rage must be withstood. +Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame. + +MOWBRAY, [standing] +Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation; that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honor is my life; both grow in one. +Take honor from me and my life is done. +Then, dear my liege, mine honor let me try. +In that I live, and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, throw up your gage. Do you begin. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crestfallen in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honor with such feeble wrong +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbor, even in Mowbray's face. + +KING RICHARD +We were not born to sue, but to command, +Which, since we cannot do, to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry upon Saint Lambert's day. +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate. +Since we cannot atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry.-- +Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter John of Gaunt with the Duchess of Gloucester.] + + +GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims +To stir against the butchers of his life. +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven, +Who, when they see the hours ripe on Earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood +Or seven fair branches springing from one root. +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut. +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is cracked and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody ax. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that +womb, +That metal, that self mold that fashioned thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and +breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt. It is despair. +In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee. +That which in mean men we entitle patience +Is pale, cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully +Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where, then, alas, may I complain myself? + +GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defense. + +DUCHESS +Why then I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight. +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom +That they may break his foaming courser's back +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt. Thy sometime brother's wife +With her companion, grief, must end her life. + +GAUNT +Sister, farewell. I must to Coventry. +As much good stay with thee as go with me. + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight. +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so! +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there +To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die. +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aumerle.] + + +MARSHAL +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed? + +AUMERLE +Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in. + +MARSHAL +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +AUMERLE +Why then, the champions are prepared and stay +For nothing but his Majesty's approach. + +[The trumpets sound and the King enters with his Nobles +and Officers; when they are set, enter Mowbray, the +Duke of Norfolk in arms, defendant, with a Herald.] + + +KING RICHARD +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms, +Ask him his name, and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +MARSHAL, [to Mowbray] +In God's name and the King's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel. +Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath, +As so defend thee heaven and thy valor. + +MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me, +And by the grace of God and this mine arm +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. + +[The trumpets sound. Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of +Hereford, appellant, in armor, with a Herald.] + + +KING RICHARD Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +MARSHAL, [to Bolingbroke] +What is thy name? And wherefore com'st thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? And what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven. + +BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +Am I, who ready here do stand in arms +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valor, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor foul and dangerous +To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me. +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. + +MARSHAL +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the Marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +BOLINGBROKE +Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand +And bow my knee before his Majesty; +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage. +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +MARSHAL, [to King Richard] +The appellant in all duty greets your Highness +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD, [coming down] +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +[He embraces Bolingbroke.] +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight. +Farewell, my blood--which, if today thou shed, +Lament we may but not revenge thee dead. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, let no noble eye profane a tear +For me if I be gored with Mowbray's spear. +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you.-- +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.-- +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. +O, thou the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit in me regenerate +Doth with a twofold vigor lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armor with thy prayers, +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat +And furbish new the name of John o' Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous. +Be swift like lightning in the execution, +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy. +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live. + +BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive! + +MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just, and upright gentleman. +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years. +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight. Truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD +Farewell, my lord. Securely I espy +Virtue with valor couched in thine eye.-- +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +MARSHAL +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right. +[He presents a lance to Bolingbroke.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry "Amen!" + +MARSHAL, [to an Officer] +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. +[An Officer presents a lance to Mowbray.] + +FIRST HERALD +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king, and him, +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +SECOND HERALD +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal, +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +MARSHAL +Sound, trumpets, and set forward, combatants. +[Trumpets sound. Richard throws down his warder.] +Stay! The King hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again. +[To his council.] Withdraw with us, and let the +trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. +[Trumpets sound while Richard consults with Gaunt +and other Nobles.] +[To Bolingbroke and Mowbray.] Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soiled +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plowed up with neighbor's sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep, +Which, so roused up with boist'rous untuned +drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood: +Therefore we banish you our territories. +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enriched our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done. This must my comfort be: +That sun that warms you here shall shine on me, +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly, slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile. +The hopeless word of "never to return" +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlooked-for from your Highness' mouth. +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your Highness' hands. +The language I have learnt these forty years, +My native English, now I must forgo; +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony. +Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue, +Doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips, +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my jailor to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now. +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native +breath? + +KING RICHARD +It boots thee not to be compassionate. +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. +[He begins to exit.] + +KING RICHARD +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +[To Mowbray and Bolingbroke.] Lay on our royal +sword your banished hands. +[They place their right hands on the hilts of +Richard's sword.] +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God, +Embrace each other's love in banishment, +Nor never look upon each other's face, +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your homebred hate, +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +BOLINGBROKE I swear. + +MOWBRAY And I, to keep all this. +[They step back.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy: +By this time, had the King permitted us, +One of our souls had wandered in the air, +Banished this frail sepulcher of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banished from this land. +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm. +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burden of a guilty soul. + +MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banished as from hence. +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know, +And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue.-- +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. +[He exits.] + +KING RICHARD, [to Gaunt] +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart. Thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banished years +Plucked four away. [To Bolingbroke.] Six frozen +winters spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word; such is the breath of kings. + +GAUNT +I thank my liege that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile. +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times +about, +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD +Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give. +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow. +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage. +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD +Thy son is banished upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave. +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge, but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild. +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroyed. +Alas, I looked when some of you should say +I was too strict, to make mine own away. +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, farewell.--And, uncle, bid him so. +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. +[Flourish. King Richard exits with his Attendants.] + +AUMERLE, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, farewell. What presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +MARSHAL, [to Bolingbroke] +My lord, no leave take I, for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +GAUNT, [to Bolingbroke] +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou returnest no greeting to thy friends? + +BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolor of the heart. + +GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +GAUNT +What is six winters? They are quickly gone. + +BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure. + +BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. + +GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus: +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the King did banish thee, +But thou the King. Woe doth the heavier sit +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honor, +And not the King exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime. +Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com'st. +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence +strewed, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O no, the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites but lanceth not the sore. + +GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way. +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu, +My mother and my nurse that bears me yet. +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banished, yet a trueborn Englishman. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the King with Green and Bagot, at one door, +and the Lord Aumerle at another.] + + +KING RICHARD We did observe.--Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +AUMERLE +Faith, none for me, except the northeast wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +AUMERLE "Farewell." +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seemed buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word "farewell" have lengthened +hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells. +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD +He is our cousin, cousin, but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green, +Observed his courtship to the common people, +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oysterwench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With "Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends," +As were our England in reversion his +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone, and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your Highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD +We will ourself in person to this war. +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are enforced to farm our royal realm, +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand. If that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters, +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants, +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +[Enter Bushy.] + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken, and hath sent posthaste +To entreat your Majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD Where lies he? + +BUSHY At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him. +Pray God we may make haste and come too late. + +ALL Amen! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter John of Gaunt sick, with the Duke of York, and +Attendants.] + + +GAUNT +Will the King come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +YORK +Vex not yourself nor strive not with your breath, +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony. +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in +vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in +pain. +He that no more must say is listened more + Than they whom youth and ease have taught to + gloze. +More are men's ends marked than their lives before. + The setting sun and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past. +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +YORK +No, it is stopped with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond; +Lascivious meters, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose. +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou +lose. + +GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are +short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder; +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this +England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Feared by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home +For Christian service and true chivalry +As is the sepulcher in stubborn Jewry +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out--I die pronouncing it-- +Like to a tenement or pelting farm. +England, bound in with the triumphant sea, +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of wat'ry Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds. +That England that was wont to conquer others +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +[Enter King and Queen, Aumerle, Bushy, Green, Bagot, +Ross, Willoughby, etc.] + + +YORK +The King is come. Deal mildly with his youth, +For young hot colts being reined do rage the more. + +QUEEN, [to Gaunt] +How fares our noble uncle Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD, [to Gaunt] +What comfort, man? How is 't with aged Gaunt? + +GAUNT +O, how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed and gaunt in being old. +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast, +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watched; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt. +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon +Is my strict fast--I mean my children's looks-- +And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt. +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits naught but bones. + +KING RICHARD +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself. +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD +Thou, now a-dying, sayest thou flatterest me. + +GAUNT +O, no, thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill, +Ill in myself to see, and in thee, seeing ill. +Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land, +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless-patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee. +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head, +And yet encaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possessed, +Which art possessed now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But, for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king. +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law, +And thou-- + +KING RICHARD A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son! +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapped out and drunkenly caroused. +My brother Gloucester--plain, well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls-- +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood. +Join with the present sickness that I have, +And thy unkindness be like crooked age +To crop at once a too-long withered flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be!-- +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave. +Love they to live that love and honor have. +[He exits, carried off by Attendants.] + +KING RICHARD +And let them die that age and sullens have, +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +YORK +I do beseech your Majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him. +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry, Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty. + +KING RICHARD +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Nay, nothing; all is said. +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rugheaded kern, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And, for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, coin, revenues, and movables +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possessed. + +YORK +How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment, +Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first. +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so looked he, +Accomplished with the number of thy hours; +But when he frowned, it was against the French +And not against his friends. His noble hand +Did win what he did spend, and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won. +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O, Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +YORK O, my liege, +Pardon me if you please. If not, I, pleased +Not to be pardoned, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banished Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead? And doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just? And is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not tomorrow then ensue today; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patents that he hath +By his attorneys general to sue +His livery, and deny his offered homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, +And prick my tender patience to those thoughts +Which honor and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. + +YORK +I'll not be by the while. My liege, farewell. +What will ensue hereof there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. [He exits.] + +KING RICHARD +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight. +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. Tomorrow next +We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow. +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York Lord Governor of England, +For he is just and always loved us well.-- +Come on, our queen. Tomorrow must we part. +Be merry, for our time of stay is short. +[King and Queen exit with others; +Northumberland, Willoughby, and Ross remain.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +ROSS +And living too, for now his son is duke. + +WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenues. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +ROSS +My heart is great, but it must break with silence +Ere 't be disburdened with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind, and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +WILLOUGHBY, [to Ross] +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of +Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man. +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him, +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many more +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The King is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform +Merely in hate 'gainst any of us all, +That will the King severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +ROSS +The commons hath he pilled with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts. The nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what. +But what i' God's name doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars hath not wasted it, for warred he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows. +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +WILLOUGHBY +The King grown bankrupt like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banished duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman. Most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +ROSS +We see the very wrack that we must suffer, +And unavoided is the danger now +For suffering so the causes of our wrack. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so. Even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland. +We three are but thyself, and speaking so +Thy words are but as thoughts. Therefore be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Le Port Blanc, +A bay in Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord +Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis +Coint-- +All these well furnished by the Duke of Brittany +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore. +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the King for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemished crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt, +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh. +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +ROSS +To horse, to horse! Urge doubts to them that fear. + +WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Queen, Bushy, and Bagot.] + + +BUSHY +Madam, your Majesty is too much sad. +You promised, when you parted with the King, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the King I did; to please myself +I cannot do it. Yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard. Yet again methinks +Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune's womb +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles. At some thing it grieves +More than with parting from my lord the King. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows +Which shows like grief itself but is not so; +For sorrow's eyes, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects, +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form. So your sweet Majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief more than himself to wail, +Which, looked on as it is, is naught but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not. More is +not seen, +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so, but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise. Howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad--so heavy sad +As thought, on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less. Conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief. Mine is not so, +For nothing hath begot my something grief-- +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve. +'Tis in reversion that I do possess, +But what it is that is not yet known what, +I cannot name. 'Tis nameless woe, I wot. + +[Enter Green.] + + +GREEN +God save your Majesty!--And well met, gentlemen. +I hope the King is not yet shipped for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'Tis better hope he is, +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope. +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipped? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land. +The banished Bolingbroke repeals himself +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true. And that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Harry +Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumont, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaimed Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have; whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broken his staff, resigned his stewardship, +And all the Household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir. +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-delivered mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow joined. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN Who shall hinder me? +I will despair and be at enmity +With cozening hope. He is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper-back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +[Enter York.] + + +GREEN Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck. +O, full of careful business are his looks!-- +Uncle, for God's sake speak comfortable words. + +YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts. +Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the Earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off +Whilst others come to make him lose at home. +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself. +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flattered him. + +[Enter a Servingman.] + + +SERVINGMAN +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +YORK +He was? Why, so go all which way it will. +The nobles they are fled; the commons they are +cold +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound. +Hold, take my ring. + +SERVINGMAN +My lord, I had forgot to tell your Lordship: +Today as I came by I called there-- +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +YORK What is 't, knave? + +SERVINGMAN +An hour before I came, the Duchess died. + +YORK +God for His mercy, what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do. I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The King had cut off my head with my brother's! +What, are there no posts dispatched for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars?-- +Come, sister--cousin I would say, pray pardon +me.-- +Go, fellow, get thee home. Provide some carts +And bring away the armor that is there. +[Servingman exits.] +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen. +T' one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; t' other again +Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wronged, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. [To Queen.] Come, +cousin, +I'll dispose of you.--Gentlemen, go muster up your +men +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too, +But time will not permit. All is uneven, +And everything is left at six and seven. +[Duke of York and Queen exit. +Bushy, Green, and Bagot remain.] + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go for Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the King in love +Is near the hate of those love not the King. + +BAGOT +And that is the wavering commons, for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the King stands generally condemned. + +BAGOT +If judgment lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the King. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristow Castle. +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you, for little office +Will the hateful commons perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.-- +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No, I will to Ireland to his Majesty. +Farewell. If heart's presages be not vain, +We three here part that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke, the task he undertakes +Is numb'ring sands and drinking oceans dry. +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +BUSHY +Well, we may meet again. + +BAGOT I fear me, never. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, and +Northumberland.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Believe me, noble lord, +I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire. +These high wild hills and rough uneven ways +Draws out our miles and makes them wearisome. +And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, +Making the hard way sweet and delectable. +But I bethink me what a weary way +From Ravenspurgh to Cotshall will be found +In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company, +Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled +The tediousness and process of my travel. +But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have +The present benefit which I possess, +And hope to joy is little less in joy +Than hope enjoyed. By this the weary lords +Shall make their way seem short as mine hath done +By sight of what I have, your noble company. + +BOLINGBROKE +Of much less value is my company +Than your good words. But who comes here? + +[Enter Harry Percy.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND It is my son, young Harry Percy, +Sent from my brother Worcester whencesoever.-- +Harry, how fares your uncle? + +PERCY +I had thought, my lord, to have learned his health of +you. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Why, is he not with the Queen? + +PERCY +No, my good lord, he hath forsook the court, +Broken his staff of office, and dispersed +The Household of the King. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What was his reason? He was not so resolved +When last we spake together. + +PERCY +Because your Lordship was proclaimed traitor. +But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh +To offer service to the Duke of Hereford, +And sent me over by Berkeley to discover +What power the Duke of York had levied there, +Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy? + +PERCY +No, my good lord, for that is not forgot +Which ne'er I did remember. To my knowledge +I never in my life did look on him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then learn to know him now. This is the Duke. + +PERCY, [to Bolingbroke] +My gracious lord, I tender you my service, +Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young, +Which elder days shall ripen and confirm +To more approved service and desert. + +BOLINGBROKE +I thank thee, gentle Percy, and be sure +I count myself in nothing else so happy +As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; +And as my fortune ripens with thy love, +It shall be still thy true love's recompense. +My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. +[Gives Percy his hand.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to Percy] +How far is it to Berkeley, and what stir +Keeps good old York there with his men of war? + +PERCY +There stands the castle by yon tuft of trees, +Manned with three hundred men, as I have heard, +And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and +Seymour, +None else of name and noble estimate. + +[Enter Ross and Willoughby.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby, +Bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste. + +BOLINGBROKE +Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues +A banished traitor. All my treasury +Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enriched, +Shall be your love and labor's recompense. + +ROSS +Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. + +WILLOUGHBY +And far surmounts our labor to attain it. + +BOLINGBROKE +Evermore thank's the exchequer of the poor, +Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, +Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? + +[Enter Berkeley.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess. + +BERKELEY, [to Bolingbroke] +My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you. + +BOLINGBROKE +My lord, my answer is--to "Lancaster"; +And I am come to seek that name in England. +And I must find that title in your tongue +Before I make reply to aught you say. + +BERKELEY +Mistake me not, my lord, 'tis not my meaning +To rase one title of your honor out. +To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will, +From the most gracious regent of this land, +The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on +To take advantage of the absent time, +And fright our native peace with self-borne arms. + +[Enter York.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +I shall not need transport my words by you. +Here comes his Grace in person. [He kneels.] +My noble uncle. + +YORK +Show me thy humble heart and not thy knee, +Whose duty is deceivable and false. + +BOLINGBROKE, [standing] My gracious uncle-- + +YORK Tut, tut! +Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle. +I am no traitor's uncle, and that word "grace" +In an ungracious mouth is but profane. +Why have those banished and forbidden legs +Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground? +But then, more why: why have they dared to march +So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, +Frighting her pale-faced villages with war +And ostentation of despised arms? +Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence? +Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind +And in my loyal bosom lies his power. +Were I but now lord of such hot youth +As when brave Gaunt thy father and myself +Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men, +From forth the ranks of many thousand French, +O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine, +Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee +And minister correction to thy fault! + +BOLINGBROKE +My gracious uncle, let me know my fault. +On what condition stands it and wherein? + +YORK +Even in condition of the worst degree, +In gross rebellion and detested treason. +Thou art a banished man and here art come, +Before the expiration of thy time, +In braving arms against thy sovereign. + +BOLINGBROKE +As I was banished, I was banished Hereford, +But as I come, I come for Lancaster. +And, noble uncle, I beseech your Grace +Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye. +You are my father, for methinks in you +I see old Gaunt alive. O, then, my father, +Will you permit that I shall stand condemned +A wandering vagabond, my rights and royalties +Plucked from my arms perforce and given away +To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born? +If that my cousin king be king in England, +It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster. +You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin. +Had you first died and he been thus trod down, +He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father +To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay. +I am denied to sue my livery here, +And yet my letters patents give me leave. +My father's goods are all distrained and sold, +And these, and all, are all amiss employed. +What would you have me do? I am a subject, +And I challenge law. Attorneys are denied me, +And therefore personally I lay my claim +To my inheritance of free descent. + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to York] +The noble duke hath been too much abused. + +ROSS, [to York] +It stands your Grace upon to do him right. + +WILLOUGHBY, [to York] +Base men by his endowments are made great. + +YORK +My lords of England, let me tell you this: +I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs +And labored all I could to do him right. +But in this kind to come, in braving arms, +Be his own carver and cut out his way +To find out right with wrong, it may not be. +And you that do abet him in this kind +Cherish rebellion and are rebels all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The noble duke hath sworn his coming is +But for his own, and for the right of that +We all have strongly sworn to give him aid. +And let him never see joy that breaks that oath. + +YORK +Well, well. I see the issue of these arms. +I cannot mend it, I must needs confess, +Because my power is weak and all ill-left. +But if I could, by Him that gave me life, +I would attach you all and make you stoop +Unto the sovereign mercy of the King. +But since I cannot, be it known unto you +I do remain as neuter. So fare you well-- +Unless you please to enter in the castle +And there repose you for this night. + +BOLINGBROKE +An offer, uncle, that we will accept. +But we must win your Grace to go with us +To Bristow Castle, which they say is held +By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices, +The caterpillars of the commonwealth, +Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away. + +YORK +It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause, +For I am loath to break our country's laws. +Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are. +Things past redress are now with me past care. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Earl of Salisbury and a Welsh Captain.] + + +WELSH CAPTAIN +My Lord of Salisbury, we have stayed ten days +And hardly kept our countrymen together, +And yet we hear no tidings from the King. +Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewell. + +SALISBURY +Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman. +The King reposeth all his confidence in thee. + +WELSH CAPTAIN +'Tis thought the King is dead. We will not stay. +The bay trees in our country are all withered, +And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; +The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the Earth, +And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change; +Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, +The one in fear to lose what they enjoy, +The other to enjoy by rage and war. +These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. +Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled, +As well assured Richard their king is dead. +[He exits.] + +SALISBURY +Ah, Richard! With the eyes of heavy mind +I see thy glory like a shooting star +Fall to the base earth from the firmament. +Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, +Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest. +Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes, +And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, York, +Northumberland, with other Lords, and Bushy and +Green prisoners.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Bring forth these men.-- +Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls, +Since presently your souls must part your bodies, +With too much urging your pernicious lives, +For 'twere no charity; yet to wash your blood +From off my hands, here in the view of men +I will unfold some causes of your deaths: +You have misled a prince, a royal king, +A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments +By you unhappied and disfigured clean. +You have in manner with your sinful hours +Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him, +Broke the possession of a royal bed, +And stained the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks +With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. +Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth, +Near to the King in blood, and near in love +Till you did make him misinterpret me, +Have stooped my neck under your injuries +And sighed my English breath in foreign clouds, +Eating the bitter bread of banishment, +Whilst you have fed upon my seigniories, +Disparked my parks and felled my forest woods, +From my own windows torn my household coat, +Rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign, +Save men's opinions and my living blood, +To show the world I am a gentleman. +This and much more, much more than twice all +this, +Condemns you to the death.--See them delivered +over +To execution and the hand of death. + +BUSHY +More welcome is the stroke of death to me +Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell. + +GREEN +My comfort is that heaven will take our souls +And plague injustice with the pains of hell. + +BOLINGBROKE +My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatched. [Northumberland exits with Bushy and Green.] +[To York.] Uncle, you say the Queen is at your +house. +For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated. +Tell her I send to her my kind commends. +Take special care my greetings be delivered. + +YORK +A gentleman of mine I have dispatched +With letters of your love to her at large. + +BOLINGBROKE +Thanks, gentle uncle.--Come, lords, away, +To fight with Glendower and his complices. +A while to work, and after holiday. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Drums. Flourish and colors. Enter the King, Aumerle, +Carlisle, and Soldiers.] + + +KING RICHARD +Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand? + +AUMERLE +Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air +After your late tossing on the breaking seas? + +KING RICHARD +Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy +To stand upon my kingdom once again. [He kneels.] +Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, +Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs. +As a long-parted mother with her child +Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting, +So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth, +And do thee favors with my royal hands. +Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, +Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense, +But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, +And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way, +Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet +Which with usurping steps do trample thee. +Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies, +And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower, +Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder, +Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch +Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies. +Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords. +This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones +Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king +Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms. + +CARLISLE +Fear not, my lord. That power that made you king +Hath power to keep you king in spite of all. +The means that heavens yield must be embraced +And not neglected. Else heaven would, +And we will not--heaven's offer we refuse, +The proffered means of succor and redress. + +AUMERLE +He means, my lord, that we are too remiss, +Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, +Grows strong and great in substance and in power. + +KING RICHARD +Discomfortable cousin, know'st thou not +That when the searching eye of heaven is hid +Behind the globe that lights the lower world, +Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen +In murders and in outrage boldly here? +But when from under this terrestrial ball +He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines +And darts his light through every guilty hole, +Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, +The cloak of night being plucked from off their +backs, +Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves. +So when this thief, this traitor Bolingbroke, +Who all this while hath reveled in the night +Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes, +Shall see us rising in our throne, the east, +His treasons will sit blushing in his face, +Not able to endure the sight of day, +But self-affrighted, tremble at his sin. +Not all the water in the rough rude sea +Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. +The breath of worldly men cannot depose +The deputy elected by the Lord. +For every man that Bolingbroke hath pressed +To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown, +God for His Richard hath in heavenly pay +A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight, +Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right. + +[Enter Salisbury.] + +Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power? + +SALISBURY +Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, +Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue +And bids me speak of nothing but despair. +One day too late, I fear me, noble lord, +Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth. +O, call back yesterday, bid time return, +And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men. +Today, today, unhappy day too late, +Overthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; +For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, +Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled. + +AUMERLE +Comfort, my liege. Why looks your Grace so pale? + +KING RICHARD +But now the blood of twenty thousand men + Did triumph in my face, and they are fled; +And till so much blood thither come again + Have I not reason to look pale and dead? +All souls that will be safe, fly from my side, +For time hath set a blot upon my pride. + +AUMERLE +Comfort, my liege. Remember who you are. + +KING RICHARD +I had forgot myself. Am I not king? +Awake, thou coward majesty, thou sleepest! +Is not the King's name twenty thousand names? +Arm, arm, my name! A puny subject strikes +At thy great glory. Look not to the ground, +You favorites of a king. Are we not high? +High be our thoughts. I know my Uncle York +Hath power enough to serve our turn.--But who +comes here? + +[Enter Scroop.] + + +SCROOP +More health and happiness betide my liege +Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him. + +KING RICHARD +Mine ear is open and my heart prepared. +The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold. +Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care, +And what loss is it to be rid of care? +Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? +Greater he shall not be. If he serve God, +We'll serve Him too and be his fellow so. +Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend. +They break their faith to God as well as us. +Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay. +The worst is death, and death will have his day. + +SCROOP +Glad am I that your Highness is so armed +To bear the tidings of calamity. +Like an unseasonable stormy day +Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores +As if the world were all dissolved to tears, +So high above his limits swells the rage +Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land +With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel. +Whitebeards have armed their thin and hairless +scalps +Against thy Majesty; boys with women's voices +Strive to speak big and clap their female joints +In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown; +Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows +Of double-fatal yew against thy state. +Yea, distaff women manage rusty bills +Against thy seat. Both young and old rebel, +And all goes worse than I have power to tell. + +KING RICHARD +Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill. +Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot? +What is become of Bushy? Where is Green, +That they have let the dangerous enemy +Measure our confines with such peaceful steps? +If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it! +I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke. + +SCROOP +Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord. + +KING RICHARD +O villains, vipers, damned without redemption! +Dogs easily won to fawn on any man! +Snakes in my heart blood warmed, that sting my +heart! +Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas! +Would they make peace? Terrible hell +Make war upon their spotted souls for this! + +SCROOP +Sweet love, I see, changing his property, +Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate. +Again uncurse their souls. Their peace is made +With heads and not with hands. Those whom you +curse +Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound +And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground. + +AUMERLE +Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead? + +SCROOP +Ay, all of them at Bristow lost their heads. + +AUMERLE +Where is the Duke my father with his power? + +KING RICHARD +No matter where. Of comfort no man speak. +Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, +Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes +Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. +Let's choose executors and talk of wills. +And yet not so, for what can we bequeath +Save our deposed bodies to the ground? +Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, +And nothing can we call our own but death +And that small model of the barren earth +Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. +For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground +And tell sad stories of the death of kings-- +How some have been deposed, some slain in war, +Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed, +Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed, +All murdered. For within the hollow crown +That rounds the mortal temples of a king +Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, +Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, +Allowing him a breath, a little scene, +To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks, +Infusing him with self and vain conceit, +As if this flesh which walls about our life +Were brass impregnable; and humored thus, +Comes at the last and with a little pin +Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king! +Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood +With solemn reverence. Throw away respect, +Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, +For you have but mistook me all this while. +I live with bread like you, feel want, +Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus, +How can you say to me I am a king? + +CARLISLE +My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, +But presently prevent the ways to wail. +To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, +Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe, +And so your follies fight against yourself. +Fear, and be slain--no worse can come to fight; +And fight and die is death destroying death, +Where fearing dying pays death servile breath. + +AUMERLE +My father hath a power. Inquire of him, +And learn to make a body of a limb. + +KING RICHARD +Thou chid'st me well.--Proud Bolingbroke, I come +To change blows with thee for our day of doom.-- +This ague fit of fear is overblown. +An easy task it is to win our own.-- +Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power? +Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour. + +SCROOP +Men judge by the complexion of the sky + The state and inclination of the day; +So may you by my dull and heavy eye. + My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say. +I play the torturer by small and small +To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken. +Your uncle York is joined with Bolingbroke, +And all your northern castles yielded up, +And all your southern gentlemen in arms +Upon his party. + +KING RICHARD Thou hast said enough. +[To Aumerle.] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst +lead me forth +Of that sweet way I was in to despair. +What say you now? What comfort have we now? +By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly +That bids me be of comfort anymore. +Go to Flint Castle. There I'll pine away; +A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey. +That power I have, discharge, and let them go +To ear the land that hath some hope to grow, +For I have none. Let no man speak again +To alter this, for counsel is but vain. + +AUMERLE +My liege, one word. + +KING RICHARD He does me double wrong +That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. +Discharge my followers. Let them hence away, +From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter with Drum and Colors Bolingbroke, York, +Northumberland, with Soldiers and Attendants.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +So that by this intelligence we learn +The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury +Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed +With some few private friends upon this coast. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The news is very fair and good, my lord: +Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. + +YORK +It would beseem the Lord Northumberland +To say "King Richard." Alack the heavy day +When such a sacred king should hide his head! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief +Left I his title out. + +YORK +The time hath been, would you have been so brief +with him, +He would have been so brief to shorten you, +For taking so the head, your whole head's length. + +BOLINGBROKE +Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. + +YORK +Take not, good cousin, further than you should, +Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads. + +BOLINGBROKE +I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself +Against their will. But who comes here? + +[Enter Percy.] + +Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield? + +PERCY +The castle royally is manned, my lord, +Against thy entrance. + +BOLINGBROKE +Royally? Why, it contains no king. + +PERCY Yes, my good lord, +It doth contain a king. King Richard lies +Within the limits of yon lime and stone, +And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, +Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman +Of holy reverence--who, I cannot learn. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. + +BOLINGBROKE, [to Northumberland] Noble lord, +Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle, +Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley +Into his ruined ears, and thus deliver: +Henry Bolingbroke +On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand +And sends allegiance and true faith of heart +To his most royal person, hither come +Even at his feet to lay my arms and power, +Provided that my banishment repealed +And lands restored again be freely granted. +If not, I'll use the advantage of my power +And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood +Rained from the wounds of slaughtered +Englishmen-- +The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke +It is such crimson tempest should bedrench +The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land, +My stooping duty tenderly shall show. +Go signify as much while here we march +Upon the grassy carpet of this plain. +[Northumberland and Trumpets +approach the battlements.] +Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum, +That from this castle's tottered battlements +Our fair appointments may be well perused. +Methinks King Richard and myself should meet +With no less terror than the elements +Of fire and water when their thund'ring shock +At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. +Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water; +The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain +My waters--on the earth and not on him. +March on, and mark King Richard how he looks. +[Bolingbroke's Soldiers march, the trumpets sound.] +[Richard appeareth on the walls with Aumerle.] +See, see, King Richard doth himself appear +As doth the blushing discontented sun +From out the fiery portal of the east +When he perceives the envious clouds are bent +To dim his glory and to stain the track +Of his bright passage to the occident. + +YORK +Yet looks he like a king. Behold, his eye, +As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth +Controlling majesty. Alack, alack for woe +That any harm should stain so fair a show! + +KING RICHARD, [to Northumberland, below] +We are amazed, and thus long have we stood +To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, +Because we thought ourself thy lawful king. +An if we be, how dare thy joints forget +To pay their awful duty to our presence? +If we be not, show us the hand of God +That hath dismissed us from our stewardship, +For well we know no hand of blood and bone +Can gripe the sacred handle of our scepter, +Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp. +And though you think that all, as you have done, +Have torn their souls by turning them from us, +And we are barren and bereft of friends, +Yet know, my master, God omnipotent, +Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf +Armies of pestilence, and they shall strike +Your children yet unborn and unbegot, +That lift your vassal hands against my head +And threat the glory of my precious crown. +Tell Bolingbroke--for yon methinks he stands-- +That every stride he makes upon my land +Is dangerous treason. He is come to open +The purple testament of bleeding war; +But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, +Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons +Shall ill become the flower of England's face, +Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace +To scarlet indignation, and bedew +Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The King of heaven forbid our lord the King +Should so with civil and uncivil arms +Be rushed upon! Thy thrice-noble cousin, +Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand, +And by the honorable tomb he swears +That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones, +And by the royalties of both your bloods, +Currents that spring from one most gracious head, +And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt, +And by the worth and honor of himself, +Comprising all that may be sworn or said, +His coming hither hath no further scope +Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg +Enfranchisement immediate on his knees; +Which on thy royal party granted once, +His glittering arms he will commend to rust, +His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart +To faithful service of your Majesty. +This swears he, as he is a prince and just, +And as I am a gentleman I credit him. + +KING RICHARD +Northumberland, say thus the King returns: +His noble cousin is right welcome hither, +And all the number of his fair demands +Shall be accomplished without contradiction. +With all the gracious utterance thou hast, +Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. +[Northumberland returns to Bolingbroke.] +[To Aumerle.] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do +we not, +To look so poorly and to speak so fair? +Shall we call back Northumberland and send +Defiance to the traitor and so die? + +AUMERLE +No, good my lord, let's fight with gentle words, +Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful +swords. + +KING RICHARD +O God, O God, that e'er this tongue of mine +That laid the sentence of dread banishment +On yon proud man should take it off again +With words of sooth! O, that I were as great +As is my grief, or lesser than my name! +Or that I could forget what I have been, +Or not remember what I must be now. +Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to +beat, +Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. + +AUMERLE +Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. + +KING RICHARD +What must the King do now? Must he submit? +The King shall do it. Must he be deposed? +The King shall be contented. Must he lose +The name of king? I' God's name, let it go. +I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, +My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, +My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, +My figured goblets for a dish of wood, +My scepter for a palmer's walking-staff, +My subjects for a pair of carved saints, +And my large kingdom for a little grave, +A little, little grave, an obscure grave; +Or I'll be buried in the King's highway, +Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet +May hourly trample on their sovereign's head; +For on my heart they tread now whilst I live +And, buried once, why not upon my head? +Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin. +We'll make foul weather with despised tears; +Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn +And make a dearth in this revolting land. +Or shall we play the wantons with our woes +And make some pretty match with shedding tears? +As thus, to drop them still upon one place +Till they have fretted us a pair of graves +Within the earth; and therein laid--there lies +Two kinsmen digged their graves with weeping eyes. +Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see +I talk but idly, and you laugh at me. +[Northumberland approaches the battlements.] +Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland, +What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty +Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? +You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, in the base court he doth attend +To speak with you, may it please you to come down. + +KING RICHARD +Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaeton, +Wanting the manage of unruly jades. +In the base court--base court, where kings grow +base, +To come at traitors' calls and do them grace. +In the base court come down--down court, down +king, +For nightowls shriek where mounting larks should +sing. +[Richard exits above +and Northumberland returns to Bolingbroke.] + +BOLINGBROKE What says his Majesty? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Sorrow and grief of heart +Makes him speak fondly like a frantic man, +Yet he is come. + +[Richard enters below.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Stand all apart, +And show fair duty to his Majesty. [He kneels down.] +My gracious lord. + +KING RICHARD +Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee +To make the base earth proud with kissing it. +Me rather had my heart might feel your love +Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy. +Up, cousin, up. Your heart is up, I know, +Thus high at least [indicating his crown,] although +your knee be low. + +BOLINGBROKE, [standing] +My gracious lord, I come but for mine own. + +KING RICHARD +Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. + +BOLINGBROKE +So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, +As my true service shall deserve your love. + +KING RICHARD +Well you deserve. They well deserve to have +That know the strong'st and surest way to get.-- +Uncle, give me your hands. Nay, dry your eyes. +Tears show their love but want their remedies.-- +Cousin, I am too young to be your father, +Though you are old enough to be my heir. +What you will have I'll give, and willing too, +For do we must what force will have us do. +Set on towards London, cousin, is it so? + +BOLINGBROKE +Yea, my good lord. + +KING RICHARD Then I must not say no. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the Queen with her Ladies-in-waiting.] + + +QUEEN +What sport shall we devise here in this garden +To drive away the heavy thought of care? + +LADY Madam, we'll play at bowls. + +QUEEN +'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs +And that my fortune runs against the bias. + +LADY Madam, we'll dance. + +QUEEN +My legs can keep no measure in delight +When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief. +Therefore no dancing, girl. Some other sport. + +LADY Madam, we'll tell tales. + +QUEEN +Of sorrow or of joy? + +LADY Of either, madam. + +QUEEN Of neither, girl, +For if of joy, being altogether wanting, +It doth remember me the more of sorrow; +Or if of grief, being altogether had, +It adds more sorrow to my want of joy. +For what I have I need not to repeat, +And what I want it boots not to complain. + +LADY +Madam, I'll sing. + +QUEEN 'Tis well that thou hast cause, +But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou +weep. + +LADY +I could weep, madam, would it do you good. + +QUEEN +And I could sing, would weeping do me good, +And never borrow any tear of thee. + +[Enter a Gardener and two Servingmen.] + +But stay, here come the gardeners. +Let's step into the shadow of these trees. +My wretchedness unto a row of pins, +They will talk of state, for everyone doth so +Against a change. Woe is forerun with woe. +[Queen and Ladies step aside.] + +GARDENER, [to one Servingman] +Go, bind thou up young dangling apricokes +Which, like unruly children, make their sire +Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight. +Give some supportance to the bending twigs.-- +Go thou, and like an executioner +Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays +That look too lofty in our commonwealth. +All must be even in our government. +You thus employed, I will go root away +The noisome weeds which without profit suck +The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. + +MAN +Why should we, in the compass of a pale, +Keep law and form and due proportion, +Showing as in a model our firm estate, +When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, +Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up, +Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined, +Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs +Swarming with caterpillars? + +GARDENER Hold thy peace. +He that hath suffered this disordered spring +Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf. +The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did +shelter, +That seemed in eating him to hold him up, +Are plucked up, root and all, by Bolingbroke-- +I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. + +MAN +What, are they dead? + +GARDENER They are. And Bolingbroke +Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it +That he had not so trimmed and dressed his land +As we this garden! We at time of year +Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees, +Lest, being overproud in sap and blood, +With too much riches it confound itself. +Had he done so to great and growing men, +They might have lived to bear and he to taste +Their fruits of duty. Superfluous branches +We lop away, that bearing boughs may live. +Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, +Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. + +MAN +What, think you the King shall be deposed? + +GARDENER +Depressed he is already, and deposed +'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night +To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's +That tell black tidings. + +QUEEN +O, I am pressed to death through want of speaking! +[Stepping forward.] +Thou old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden, +How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this +unpleasing news? +What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee +To make a second fall of cursed man? +Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed? +Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth, +Divine his downfall? Say where, when, and how +Cam'st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch! + +GARDENER +Pardon me, madam. Little joy have I +To breathe this news, yet what I say is true. +King Richard, he is in the mighty hold +Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weighed. +In your lord's scale is nothing but himself +And some few vanities that make him light, +But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, +Besides himself, are all the English peers, +And with that odds he weighs King Richard down. +Post you to London and you will find it so. +I speak no more than everyone doth know. + +QUEEN +Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, +Doth not thy embassage belong to me, +And am I last that knows it? O, thou thinkest +To serve me last that I may longest keep +Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go +To meet at London London's king in woe. +What, was I born to this, that my sad look +Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?-- +Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe, +Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow. +[She exits with Ladies.] + +GARDENER +Poor queen, so that thy state might be no worse, +I would my skill were subject to thy curse. +Here did she fall a tear. Here in this place +I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace. +Rue even for ruth here shortly shall be seen +In the remembrance of a weeping queen. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke with the Lords Aumerle, +Northumberland, Harry Percy, Fitzwater, Surrey, the +Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of Westminster, and +another Lord, Herald, Officers to parliament.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Call forth Bagot. + +[Enter Officers with Bagot.] + +Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind +What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death, +Who wrought it with the King, and who performed +The bloody office of his timeless end. + +BAGOT +Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle. + +BOLINGBROKE +Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. +[Aumerle steps forward.] + +BAGOT +My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue +Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered. +In that dead time when Gloucester's death was +plotted, +I heard you say "Is not my arm of length, +That reacheth from the restful English court +As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?" +Amongst much other talk that very time +I heard you say that you had rather refuse +The offer of an hundred thousand crowns +Than Bolingbroke's return to England, +Adding withal how blest this land would be +In this your cousin's death. + +AUMERLE Princes and noble lords, +What answer shall I make to this base man? +Shall I so much dishonor my fair stars +On equal terms to give him chastisement? +Either I must or have mine honor soiled +With the attainder of his slanderous lips. +[He throws down a gage.] +There is my gage, the manual seal of death +That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest, +And will maintain what thou hast said is false +In thy heart-blood, though being all too base +To stain the temper of my knightly sword. + +BOLINGBROKE +Bagot, forbear. Thou shalt not take it up. + +AUMERLE +Excepting one, I would he were the best +In all this presence that hath moved me so. + +FITZWATER, [throwing down a gage] +If that thy valor stand on sympathy, +There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine. +By that fair sun which shows me where thou +stand'st, +I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, +That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death. +If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest, +And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, +Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day. + +FITZWATER +Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. + +AUMERLE +Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this. + +PERCY +Aumerle, thou liest! His honor is as true +In this appeal as thou art all unjust; +And that thou art so, there I throw my gage, +[He throws down a gage.] +To prove it on thee to the extremest point +Of mortal breathing. Seize it if thou dar'st. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +An if I do not, may my hands rot off +And never brandish more revengeful steel +Over the glittering helmet of my foe! + +ANOTHER LORD, [throwing down a gage] +I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle, +And spur thee on with full as many lies +As may be holloed in thy treacherous ear +From sun to sun. There is my honor's pawn. +Engage it to the trial if thou darest. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +Who sets me else? By heaven, I'll throw at all! +I have a thousand spirits in one breast +To answer twenty thousand such as you. + +SURREY +My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well +The very time Aumerle and you did talk. + +FITZWATER +'Tis very true. You were in presence then, +And you can witness with me this is true. + +SURREY +As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true. + +FITZWATER +Surrey, thou liest. + +SURREY Dishonorable boy, +That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword +That it shall render vengeance and revenge +Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie +In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. +[He throws down a gage.] +In proof whereof, there is my honor's pawn. +Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st. + +FITZWATER, [taking up the gage] +How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! +If I dare eat or drink or breathe or live, +I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness +And spit upon him whilst I say he lies, +And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith +To tie thee to my strong correction. [He throws down a gage.] +As I intend to thrive in this new world, +Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal.-- +Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say +That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men +To execute the noble duke at Calais. + +AUMERLE +Some honest Christian trust me with a gage. +[A Lord hands him a gage.] +[Aumerle throws it down.] +That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this, +If he may be repealed to try his honor. + +BOLINGBROKE +These differences shall all rest under gage +Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be, +And though mine enemy, restored again +To all his lands and seigniories. When he is +returned, +Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial. + +CARLISLE +That honorable day shall never be seen. +Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought +For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, +Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross +Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; +And, toiled with works of war, retired himself +To Italy, and there at Venice gave +His body to that pleasant country's earth +And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ, +Under whose colors he had fought so long. + +BOLINGBROKE Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? + +CARLISLE As surely as I live, my lord. + +BOLINGBROKE +Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom +Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants, +Your differences shall all rest under gage +Till we assign you to your days of trial. + +[Enter York.] + + +YORK +Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee +From plume-plucked Richard, who with willing +soul +Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields +To the possession of thy royal hand. +Ascend his throne, descending now from him, +And long live Henry, fourth of that name! + +BOLINGBROKE +In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne. + +CARLISLE Marry, God forbid! +Worst in this royal presence may I speak, +Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. +Would God that any in this noble presence +Were enough noble to be upright judge +Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would +Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. +What subject can give sentence on his king? +And who sits here that is not Richard's subject? +Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear, +Although apparent guilt be seen in them; +And shall the figure of God's majesty, +His captain, steward, deputy elect, +Anointed, crowned, planted many years, +Be judged by subject and inferior breath, +And he himself not present? O, forfend it God +That in a Christian climate souls refined +Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! +I speak to subjects and a subject speaks, +Stirred up by God thus boldly for his king. +My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, +Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king, +And if you crown him, let me prophesy +The blood of English shall manure the ground +And future ages groan for this foul act, +Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, +And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars +Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound. +Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny +Shall here inhabit, and this land be called +The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls. +O, if you raise this house against this house, +It will the woefullest division prove +That ever fell upon this cursed earth! +Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, +Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well have you argued, sir, and, for your pains, +Of capital treason we arrest you here.-- +My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge +To keep him safely till his day of trial. +May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' +suit? + +BOLINGBROKE +Fetch hither Richard, that in common view +He may surrender. So we shall proceed +Without suspicion. + +YORK I will be his conduct. [He exits.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Lords, you that here are under our arrest, +Procure your sureties for your days of answer. +Little are we beholding to your love +And little looked for at your helping hands. + +[Enter Richard and York.] + + +KING RICHARD +Alack, why am I sent for to a king +Before I have shook off the regal thoughts +Wherewith I reigned? I hardly yet have learned +To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee. +Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me +To this submission. Yet I well remember +The favors of these men. Were they not mine? +Did they not sometime cry "All hail" to me? +So Judas did to Christ, but He in twelve +Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, +none. +God save the King! Will no man say "amen"? +Am I both priest and clerk? Well, then, amen. +God save the King, although I be not he, +And yet amen, if heaven do think him me. +To do what service am I sent for hither? + +YORK +To do that office of thine own goodwill +Which tired majesty did make thee offer: +The resignation of thy state and crown +To Henry Bolingbroke. + +KING RICHARD +Give me the crown.--Here, cousin, seize the crown. +Here, cousin. +On this side my hand, on that side thine. +Now is this golden crown like a deep well +That owes two buckets, filling one another, +The emptier ever dancing in the air, +The other down, unseen, and full of water. +That bucket down and full of tears am I, +Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. + +BOLINGBROKE +I thought you had been willing to resign. + +KING RICHARD +My crown I am, but still my griefs are mine. +You may my glories and my state depose +But not my griefs; still am I king of those. + +BOLINGBROKE +Part of your cares you give me with your crown. + +KING RICHARD +Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. +My care is loss of care, by old care done; +Your care is gain of care, by new care won. +The cares I give I have, though given away. +They 'tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. + +BOLINGBROKE +Are you contented to resign the crown? + +KING RICHARD +Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be. +Therefore no "no," for I resign to thee. +Now, mark me how I will undo myself. +I give this heavy weight from off my head +And this unwieldy scepter from my hand, +The pride of kingly sway from out my heart. +With mine own tears I wash away my balm, +With mine own hands I give away my crown, +With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, +With mine own breath release all duteous oaths. +All pomp and majesty I do forswear. +My manors, rents, revenues I forgo; +My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny. +God pardon all oaths that are broke to me. +God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee. +Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved, +And thou with all pleased that hast all achieved. +Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, +And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit. +God save King Henry, unkinged Richard says, +And send him many years of sunshine days. +What more remains? + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [offering Richard a paper] +No more, but that you read +These accusations and these grievous crimes +Committed by your person and your followers +Against the state and profit of this land; +That, by confessing them, the souls of men +May deem that you are worthily deposed. + +KING RICHARD +Must I do so? And must I ravel out +My weaved-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, +If thy offenses were upon record, +Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop +To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, +There shouldst thou find one heinous article +Containing the deposing of a king +And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, +Marked with a blot, damned in the book of +heaven.-- +Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me +Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, +Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, +Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates +Have here delivered me to my sour cross, +And water cannot wash away your sin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, dispatch. Read o'er these articles. + +KING RICHARD +Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see. +And yet salt water blinds them not so much +But they can see a sort of traitors here. +Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, +I find myself a traitor with the rest, +For I have given here my soul's consent +T' undeck the pompous body of a king, +Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, +Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. + +NORTHUMBERLAND My lord-- + +KING RICHARD +No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, +Nor no man's lord. I have no name, no title, +No, not that name was given me at the font, +But 'tis usurped. Alack the heavy day, +That I have worn so many winters out +And know not now what name to call myself. +O, that I were a mockery king of snow +Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, +To melt myself away in water drops.-- +Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, +An if my word be sterling yet in England, +Let it command a mirror hither straight, +That it may show me what a face I have +Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. + +BOLINGBROKE +Go, some of you, and fetch a looking-glass. +[An Attendant exits.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. + +KING RICHARD +Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell! + +BOLINGBROKE +Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The commons will not then be satisfied. + +KING RICHARD +They shall be satisfied. I'll read enough +When I do see the very book indeed +Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. + +[Enter one with a glass.] + +Give me that glass, and therein will I read. +[He takes the mirror.] +No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck +So many blows upon this face of mine +And made no deeper wounds? O flatt'ring glass, +Like to my followers in prosperity, +Thou dost beguile me. Was this face the face +That every day under his household roof +Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face +That like the sun did make beholders wink? +Is this the face which faced so many follies, +That was at last outfaced by Bolingbroke? +A brittle glory shineth in this face. +As brittle as the glory is the face, +[He breaks the mirror.] +For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers.-- +Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport: +How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face. + +BOLINGBROKE +The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed +The shadow of your face. + +KING RICHARD Say that again. +The shadow of my sorrow? Ha, let's see. +'Tis very true. My grief lies all within; +And these external manners of laments +Are merely shadows to the unseen grief +That swells with silence in the tortured soul. +There lies the substance. And I thank thee, king, +For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st +Me cause to wail but teachest me the way +How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon +And then be gone and trouble you no more. +Shall I obtain it? + +BOLINGBROKE Name it, fair cousin. + +KING RICHARD +"Fair cousin"? I am greater than a king, +For when I was a king, my flatterers +Were then but subjects. Being now a subject, +I have a king here to my flatterer. +Being so great, I have no need to beg. + +BOLINGBROKE Yet ask. + +KING RICHARD And shall I have? + +BOLINGBROKE You shall. + +KING RICHARD Then give me leave to go. + +BOLINGBROKE Whither? + +KING RICHARD +Whither you will, so I were from your sights. + +BOLINGBROKE +Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. + +KING RICHARD +O, good! "Convey"? Conveyers are you all, +That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. +[Richard exits with Guards.] + +BOLINGBROKE +On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down +Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves. +[They exit. The Abbot of Westminster, the Bishop of +Carlisle, Aumerle remain.] + +ABBOT +A woeful pageant have we here beheld. + +CARLISLE +The woe's to come. The children yet unborn +Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. + +AUMERLE +You holy clergymen, is there no plot +To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? + +ABBOT My lord, +Before I freely speak my mind herein, +You shall not only take the sacrament +To bury mine intents, but also to effect +Whatever I shall happen to devise. +I see your brows are full of discontent, +Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears. +Come home with me to supper. I'll lay +A plot shall show us all a merry day. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Queen with her Attendants.] + + +QUEEN +This way the King will come. This is the way +To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower, +To whose flint bosom my condemned lord +Is doomed a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke. +Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth +Have any resting for her true king's queen. + +[Enter Richard and Guard.] + +But soft, but see--or rather do not see +My fair rose wither; yet look up, behold, +That you in pity may dissolve to dew +And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.-- +Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand, +Thou map of honor, thou King Richard's tomb, +And not King Richard! Thou most beauteous inn, +Why should hard-favored grief be lodged in thee +When triumph is become an alehouse guest? + +KING RICHARD +Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, +To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul, +To think our former state a happy dream, +From which awaked, the truth of what we are +Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet, +To grim necessity, and he and I +Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France +And cloister thee in some religious house. +Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, +Which our profane hours here have thrown down. + +QUEEN +What, is my Richard both in shape and mind +Transformed and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke +Deposed thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? +The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw +And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage +To be o'er-powered; and wilt thou, pupil-like, +Take the correction, mildly kiss the rod, +And fawn on rage with base humility, +Which art a lion and the king of beasts? + +KING RICHARD +A king of beasts indeed. If aught but beasts, +I had been still a happy king of men. +Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for +France. +Think I am dead and that even here thou takest, +As from my deathbed, thy last living leave. +In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire +With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales +Of woeful ages long ago betid; +And, ere thou bid good night, to quite their griefs, +Tell thou the lamentable tale of me, +And send the hearers weeping to their beds. +Forwhy the senseless brands will sympathize +The heavy accent of thy moving tongue, +And in compassion weep the fire out, +And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black, +For the deposing of a rightful king. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed. +You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.-- +And madam, there is order ta'en for you. +With all swift speed you must away to France. + +KING RICHARD +Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal +The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, +The time shall not be many hours of age +More than it is ere foul sin, gathering head, +Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think, +Though he divide the realm and give thee half, +It is too little, helping him to all. +He shall think that thou, which knowest the way +To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, +Being ne'er so little urged another way, +To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. +The love of wicked men converts to fear, +That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both +To worthy danger and deserved death. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My guilt be on my head, and there an end. +Take leave and part, for you must part forthwith. + +KING RICHARD +Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate +A twofold marriage--twixt my crown and me, +And then betwixt me and my married wife. +[To Queen.] Let me unkiss the oath twixt thee and +me; +And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.-- +Part us, Northumberland, I towards the north, +Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime; +My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp +She came adorned hither like sweet May, +Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. + +QUEEN +And must we be divided? Must we part? + +KING RICHARD +Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. + +QUEEN, [to Northumberland] +Banish us both, and send the King with me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +That were some love, but little policy. + +QUEEN +Then whither he goes, thither let me go. + +KING RICHARD +So two together weeping make one woe. +Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here; +Better far off than, near, be ne'er the near. +Go, count thy way with sighs, I mine with groans. + +QUEEN +So longest way shall have the longest moans. + +KING RICHARD +Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short, +And piece the way out with a heavy heart. +Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, +Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief. +One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part. +Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart. +[They kiss.] + +QUEEN +Give me mine own again. 'Twere no good part +To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. +[They kiss.] +So, now I have mine own again, begone, +That I may strive to kill it with a groan. + +KING RICHARD +We make woe wanton with this fond delay. +Once more, adieu! The rest let sorrow say. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Duke of York and the Duchess.] + + +DUCHESS +My lord, you told me you would tell the rest, +When weeping made you break the story off +Of our two cousins coming into London. + +YORK +Where did I leave? + +DUCHESS At that sad stop, my lord, +Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops +Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. + +YORK +Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, +Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, +Which his aspiring rider seemed to know, +With slow but stately pace kept on his course, +Whilst all tongues cried "God save thee, +Bolingbroke!" +You would have thought the very windows spake, +So many greedy looks of young and old +Through casements darted their desiring eyes +Upon his visage, and that all the walls +With painted imagery had said at once +"Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke!" +Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning, +Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, +Bespake them thus: "I thank you, countrymen." +And thus still doing, thus he passed along. + +DUCHESS +Alack, poor Richard! Where rode he the whilst? + +YORK +As in a theater the eyes of men, +After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, +Are idly bent on him that enters next, +Thinking his prattle to be tedious, +Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes +Did scowl on gentle Richard. No man cried "God +save him!" +No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home, +But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, +Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, +His face still combating with tears and smiles, +The badges of his grief and patience, +That had not God for some strong purpose steeled +The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, +And barbarism itself have pitied him. +But heaven hath a hand in these events, +To whose high will we bound our calm contents. +To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, +Whose state and honor I for aye allow. + +[Enter Aumerle.] + + +DUCHESS +Here comes my son Aumerle. + +YORK Aumerle that was; +But that is lost for being Richard's friend, +And, madam, you must call him Rutland now. +I am in parliament pledge for his truth +And lasting fealty to the new-made king. + +DUCHESS +Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now +That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? + +AUMERLE +Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not. +God knows I had as lief be none as one. + +YORK +Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, +Lest you be cropped before you come to prime. +What news from Oxford? Do these jousts and +triumphs hold? + +AUMERLE For aught I know, my lord, they do. + +YORK You will be there, I know. + +AUMERLE If God prevent not, I purpose so. + +YORK +What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom? +Yea, lookst thou pale? Let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +My lord, 'tis nothing. + +YORK No matter, then, who see it. +I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +I do beseech your Grace to pardon me. +It is a matter of small consequence, +Which for some reasons I would not have seen. + +YORK +Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. +I fear, I fear-- + +DUCHESS What should you fear? +'Tis nothing but some bond that he is entered into +For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day. + +YORK +Bound to himself? What doth he with a bond +That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.-- +Boy, let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +I do beseech you, pardon me. I may not show it. + +YORK +I will be satisfied. Let me see it, I say. +[He plucks it out of his bosom and reads it.] + +YORK +Treason! Foul treason! Villain, traitor, slave! + +DUCHESS What is the matter, my lord? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Ho, who is within there? Saddle my horse!-- +God for his mercy, what treachery is here! + +DUCHESS Why, what is it, my lord? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Give me my boots, I say! Saddle my horse!-- +Now by mine honor, by my life, by my troth, +I will appeach the villain. + +DUCHESS What is the matter? + +YORK Peace, foolish woman. + +DUCHESS +I will not peace!--What is the matter, Aumerle? + +AUMERLE +Good mother, be content. It is no more +Than my poor life must answer. + +DUCHESS Thy life answer? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Bring me my boots!--I will unto the King. + +[His man enters with his boots.] + + +DUCHESS +Strike him, Aumerle! Poor boy, thou art amazed.-- +Hence, villain, never more come in my sight. + +YORK Give me my boots, I say. +[His man helps him on with his boots, then exits.] + +DUCHESS Why, York, what wilt thou do? +Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? +Have we more sons? Or are we like to have? +Is not my teeming date drunk up with time? +And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age +And rob me of a happy mother's name? +Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own? + +YORK Thou fond mad woman, +Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? +A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament +And interchangeably set down their hands +To kill the King at Oxford. + +DUCHESS +He shall be none. We'll keep him here. +Then what is that to him? + +YORK +Away, fond woman! Were he twenty times my son, +I would appeach him. + +DUCHESS +Hadst thou groaned for him as I have done, +Thou wouldst be more pitiful. +But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect +That I have been disloyal to thy bed +And that he is a bastard, not thy son. +Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind! +He is as like thee as a man may be, +Not like to me or any of my kin, +And yet I love him. + +YORK Make way, unruly woman! +[He exits.] + +DUCHESS +After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse, +Spur post, and get before him to the King, +And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. +I'll not be long behind. Though I be old, +I doubt not but to ride as fast as York. +And never will I rise up from the ground +Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, begone! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King with his Nobles.] + + +KING HENRY +Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son? +'Tis full three months since I did see him last. +If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. +I would to God, my lords, he might be found. +Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, +For there, they say, he daily doth frequent +With unrestrained loose companions, +Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes +And beat our watch and rob our passengers, +While he, young wanton and effeminate boy, +Takes on the point of honor to support +So dissolute a crew. + +PERCY +My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince, +And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. + +KING HENRY And what said the gallant? + +PERCY +His answer was, he would unto the stews, +And from the common'st creature pluck a glove +And wear it as a favor, and with that +He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. + +KING HENRY +As dissolute as desperate. Yet through both +I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years +May happily bring forth. But who comes here? + +[Enter Aumerle amazed.] + + +AUMERLE Where is the King? + +KING HENRY +What means our cousin, that he stares and looks so +wildly? + +AUMERLE +God save your Grace. I do beseech your Majesty +To have some conference with your Grace alone. + +KING HENRY, [to his Nobles] +Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. +[The Nobles exit.] +What is the matter with our cousin now? + +AUMERLE, [kneeling] +Forever may my knees grow to the earth, +My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, +Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak. + +KING HENRY +Intended or committed was this fault? +If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, +To win thy after-love I pardon thee. + +AUMERLE, [standing] +Then give me leave that I may turn the key +That no man enter till my tale be done. + +KING HENRY Have thy desire. [Aumerle locks the door.] +[The Duke of York knocks at the door and crieth.] + +YORK, [within] +My liege, beware! Look to thyself! +Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. + +KING HENRY, [to Aumerle] Villain, I'll make thee safe. +[He draws his sword.] + +AUMERLE +Stay thy revengeful hand. Thou hast no cause to fear. + +YORK, [within] +Open the door, secure, foolhardy king! +Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? +Open the door, or I will break it open. +[King Henry unlocks the door.] + +[Enter York.] + + +KING HENRY What is the matter, uncle? Speak. +Recover breath. Tell us how near is danger +That we may arm us to encounter it. + +YORK, [giving King Henry a paper] +Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know +The treason that my haste forbids me show. + +AUMERLE, [to King Henry] +Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise passed. +I do repent me. Read not my name there. +My heart is not confederate with my hand. + +YORK +It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.-- +I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king. +Fear, and not love, begets his penitence. +Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove +A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. + +KING HENRY +O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy! +O loyal father of a treacherous son, +Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain +From whence this stream, through muddy passages, +Hath held his current and defiled himself, +Thy overflow of good converts to bad, +And thy abundant goodness shall excuse +This deadly blot in thy digressing son. + +YORK +So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd, +And he shall spend mine honor with his shame, +As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. +Mine honor lives when his dishonor dies, +Or my shamed life in his dishonor lies. +Thou kill'st me in his life: giving him breath, +The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. + +DUCHESS, [within] +What ho, my liege! For God's sake, let me in! + +KING HENRY +What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry? + +DUCHESS, [within] +A woman and thy aunt, great king. 'Tis I. +Speak with me, pity me. Open the door! +A beggar begs that never begged before. + +KING HENRY +Our scene is altered from a serious thing +And now changed to "The Beggar and the King."-- +My dangerous cousin, let your mother in. +I know she is come to pray for your foul sin. +[Aumerle opens the door.] + +[Duchess of York enters and kneels.] + + +YORK +If thou do pardon whosoever pray, +More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. +This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound. +This let alone will all the rest confound. + +DUCHESS +O king, believe not this hard-hearted man. +Love loving not itself, none other can. + +YORK +Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? +Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? + +DUCHESS +Sweet York, be patient.--Hear me, gentle liege. + +KING HENRY +Rise up, good aunt. + +DUCHESS Not yet, I thee beseech. +Forever will I walk upon my knees +And never see day that the happy sees, +Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy +By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. + +AUMERLE, [kneeling] +Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. + +YORK, [kneeling] +Against them both my true joints bended be. +Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace. + +DUCHESS +Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face. +His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; +His words come from his mouth, ours from our +breast. +He prays but faintly and would be denied. +We pray with heart and soul and all beside. +His weary joints would gladly rise, I know. +Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow. +His prayers are full of false hypocrisy, +Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. +Our prayers do outpray his. Then let them have +That mercy which true prayer ought to have. + +KING HENRY +Good aunt, stand up. + +DUCHESS Nay, do not say "stand up." +Say "pardon" first and afterwards "stand up." +An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, +"Pardon" should be the first word of thy speech. +I never longed to hear a word till now. +Say "pardon," king; let pity teach thee how. +The word is short, but not so short as sweet. +No word like "pardon" for kings' mouths so meet. + +YORK +Speak it in French, king. Say "pardonne moy." + +DUCHESS +Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? +Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, +That sets the word itself against the word! +[To King Henry.] Speak "pardon" as 'tis current in +our land; +The chopping French we do not understand. +Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there, +Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear, +That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do +pierce, +Pity may move thee "pardon" to rehearse. + +KING HENRY +Good aunt, stand up. + +DUCHESS I do not sue to stand. +Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. + +KING HENRY +I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. + +DUCHESS +O, happy vantage of a kneeling knee! +Yet am I sick for fear. Speak it again. +Twice saying "pardon" doth not pardon twain, +But makes one pardon strong. + +KING HENRY I pardon him with all my heart. + +DUCHESS A god on Earth thou art. +[They all stand.] + +KING HENRY +But for our trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot, +With all the rest of that consorted crew, +Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. +Good uncle, help to order several powers +To Oxford or where'er these traitors are. +They shall not live within this world, I swear, +But I will have them, if I once know where. +Uncle, farewell,--and cousin, adieu. +Your mother well hath prayed; and prove you true. + +DUCHESS, [to Aumerle] +Come, my old son. I pray God make thee new. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Sir Pierce Exton and Servants.] + + +EXTON +Didst thou not mark the King, what words he spake, +"Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?" +Was it not so? + +SERVINGMAN These were his very words. + +EXTON +"Have I no friend?" quoth he. He spake it twice +And urged it twice together, did he not? + +SERVINGMAN He did. + +EXTON +And speaking it, he wishtly looked on me, +As who should say "I would thou wert the man +That would divorce this terror from my heart"-- +Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go. +I am the King's friend and will rid his foe. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Richard alone.] + + +RICHARD +I have been studying how I may compare +This prison where I live unto the world, +And for because the world is populous +And here is not a creature but myself, +I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out. +My brain I'll prove the female to my soul, +My soul the father, and these two beget +A generation of still-breeding thoughts, +And these same thoughts people this little world, +In humors like the people of this world, +For no thought is contented. The better sort, +As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed +With scruples, and do set the word itself +Against the word, as thus: "Come, little ones," +And then again, +"It is as hard to come as for a camel +To thread the postern of a small needle's eye." +Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot +Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails +May tear a passage through the flinty ribs +Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls, +And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. +Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves +That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, +Nor shall not be the last--like silly beggars +Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame +That many have and others must sit there, +And in this thought they find a kind of ease, +Bearing their own misfortunes on the back +Of such as have before endured the like. +Thus play I in one person many people, +And none contented. Sometimes am I king. +Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar, +And so I am; then crushing penury +Persuades me I was better when a king. +Then am I kinged again, and by and by +Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke, +And straight am nothing. But whate'er I be, +Nor I nor any man that but man is +With nothing shall be pleased till he be eased +With being nothing. [(The music plays.)] Music do I +hear? +Ha, ha, keep time! How sour sweet music is +When time is broke and no proportion kept. +So is it in the music of men's lives. +And here have I the daintiness of ear +To check time broke in a disordered string; +But for the concord of my state and time +Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. +I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; +For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock. +My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar +Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, +Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, +Is pointing still in cleansing them from tears. +Now, sir, the sound that tells what hour it is +Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart, +Which is the bell. So sighs and tears and groans +Show minutes, times, and hours. But my time +Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, +While I stand fooling here, his jack of the clock. +This music mads me. Let it sound no more, +For though it have holp madmen to their wits, +In me it seems it will make wise men mad. +Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me, +For 'tis a sign of love, and love to Richard +Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world. + +[Enter a Groom of the stable.] + + +GROOM Hail, royal prince! + +RICHARD Thanks, noble peer. +The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. +What art thou, and how comest thou hither, +Where no man never comes but that sad dog +That brings me food to make misfortune live? + +GROOM +I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, +When thou wert king; who, traveling towards York, +With much ado at length have gotten leave +To look upon my sometime royal master's face. +O, how it earned my heart when I beheld +In London streets, that coronation day, +When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary, +That horse that thou so often hast bestrid, +That horse that I so carefully have dressed. + +RICHARD +Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend, +How went he under him? + +GROOM +So proudly as if he disdained the ground. + +RICHARD +So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! +That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; +This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. +Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down +(Since pride must have a fall) and break the neck +Of that proud man that did usurp his back? +Forgiveness, horse! Why do I rail on thee, +Since thou, created to be awed by man, +Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse, +And yet I bear a burden like an ass, +Spurred, galled, and tired by jauncing Bolingbroke. + +[Enter one, the Keeper, to Richard with meat.] + + +KEEPER, [to Groom] +Fellow, give place. Here is no longer stay. + +RICHARD, [to Groom] +If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. + +GROOM +What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. +[Groom exits.] + +KEEPER My lord, will 't please you to fall to? + +RICHARD +Taste of it first as thou art wont to do. + +KEEPER +My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton, +Who lately came from the King, commands the +contrary. + +RICHARD, [attacking the Keeper] +The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! +Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. + +KEEPER Help, help, help! + +[The Murderers Exton and his men rush in.] + + +RICHARD +How now, what means death in this rude assault? +Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. +[Richard seizes a weapon from a Murderer +and kills him with it.] +Go thou and fill another room in hell. +[He kills another Murderer.] +[Here Exton strikes him down.] +That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire +That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand +Hath with the King's blood stained the King's own +land. +Mount, mount, my soul. Thy seat is up on high, +Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. +[He dies.] + +EXTON +As full of valor as of royal blood. +Both have I spilled. O, would the deed were good! +For now the devil that told me I did well +Says that this deed is chronicled in hell. +This dead king to the living king I'll bear. +Take hence the rest and give them burial here. +[They exit with the bodies.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter King Henry, with the Duke of York.] + + +KING HENRY +Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear +Is that the rebels have consumed with fire +Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire, +But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + +Welcome, my lord. What is the news? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness. +The next news is: I have to London sent +The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent. +The manner of their taking may appear +At large discoursed in this paper here. +[He gives King Henry a paper.] + +KING HENRY +We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains, +And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. + +[Enter Lord Fitzwater.] + + +FITZWATER +My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London +The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, +Two of the dangerous consorted traitors +That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. + +KING HENRY +Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot. +Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. + +[Enter Harry Percy with the Bishop of Carlisle.] + + +PERCY +The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster, +With clog of conscience and sour melancholy +Hath yielded up his body to the grave. +But here is Carlisle living, to abide +Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride. + +KING HENRY Carlisle, this is your doom: +Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, +More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life. +So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife; +For, though mine enemy thou hast ever been, +High sparks of honor in thee have I seen. + +[Enter Exton and Servingmen with the coffin.] + + +EXTON +Great king, within this coffin I present +Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies +The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, +Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought. + +KING HENRY +Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought +A deed of slander with thy fatal hand +Upon my head and all this famous land. + +EXTON +From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. + +KING HENRY +They love not poison that do poison need, +Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead, +I hate the murderer, love him murdered. +The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labor, +But neither my good word nor princely favor. +With Cain go wander through shades of night, +And never show thy head by day nor light. +[Exton exits.] +Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe +That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. +Come mourn with me for what I do lament, +And put on sullen black incontinent. +I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land +To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. +[Servingmen lift the coffin to carry it out.] +March sadly after. Grace my mournings here +In weeping after this untimely bier. +[They exit, following the coffin.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/richard-iii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/richard-iii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec445f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/richard-iii_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6286 @@ +Richard III +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/richard-iii/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +RICHARD, Duke of Gloucester, later King Richard III +LADY ANNE, widow of Edward, son to the late King Henry VI; later wife to Richard +KING EDWARD IV, brother to Richard +QUEEN ELIZABETH, Edward's wife, formerly the Lady Grey +Their sons: + PRINCE EDWARD + RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK +GEORGE, DUKE OF CLARENCE, brother to Edward and Richard +Clarence's BOY +Clarence's DAUGHTER +DUCHESS OF YORK, mother of Richard, Edward, and Clarence +QUEEN MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI +DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM +WILLIAM, LORD HASTINGS, Lord Chamberlain +LORD STANLEY, Earl of Derby +EARL RIVERS, brother to Queen Elizabeth +Sons of Queen Elizabeth by her former marriage: + LORD GREY + MARQUESS OF DORSET +SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN +Richard's supporters: + SIR WILLIAM CATESBY + SIR RICHARD RATCLIFFE + LORD LOVELL + DUKE OF NORFOLK + EARL OF SURREY +EARL OF RICHMOND, Henry Tudor, later King Henry VII +Richmond's supporters: + EARL OF OXFORD + SIR JAMES BLUNT + SIR WALTER HERBERT + SIR WILLIAM BRANDON + SIR CHRISTOPHER, a priest +ARCHBISHOP +CARDINAL +JOHN MORTON, BISHOP OF ELY +SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower in London +JAMES TYRREL, gentleman +GENTLEMAN, attending Lady Anne +Two MURDERERS +KEEPER in the Tower +Three CITIZENS +LORD MAYOR of London +PURSUIVANT +SIR JOHN, a priest +SCRIVENER +PAGE +SHERIFF +Seven MESSENGERS +GHOSTS of King Henry VI, his son Prince Edward, Clarence, Rivers, Grey, Vaughan, the two Princes, Hastings, Lady Anne, and Buckingham +Guards, Tressel, Berkeley, Halberds, Gentlemen, Anthony Woodeville and Lord Scales (brothers to Queen Elizabeth), Two Bishops, Sir William Brandon, Lords, Attendants, Citizens, Aldermen, Councillors, Soldiers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, alone.] + + +RICHARD +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this son of York, +And all the clouds that loured upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking glass; +I, that am rudely stamped and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time +Into this breathing world scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them-- +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to see my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity. +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the King +In deadly hate, the one against the other; +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mewed up +About a prophecy which says that "G" +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul. Here Clarence +comes. + +[Enter Clarence, guarded, and Brakenbury.] + +Brother, good day. What means this armed guard +That waits upon your Grace? + +CLARENCE His Majesty, +Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +RICHARD +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE Because my name is +George. + +RICHARD +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours. +He should, for that, commit your godfathers. +O, belike his Majesty hath some intent +That you should be new christened in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know, for I protest +As yet I do not. But, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams, +And from the crossrow plucks the letter G, +And says a wizard told him that by "G" +His issue disinherited should be. +And for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Hath moved his Highness to commit me now. + +RICHARD +Why, this it is when men are ruled by women. +'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower. +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodeville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is delivered? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there is no man secure +But the Queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore. +Heard you not what an humble suppliant +Lord Hastings was to her for his delivery? + +RICHARD +Humbly complaining to her Deity +Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what: I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favor with the King, +To be her men and wear her livery. +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubbed them gentlewomen, +Are mighty gossips in our monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your Graces both to pardon me. +His Majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with your brother. + +RICHARD +Even so. An please your Worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of anything we say. +We speak no treason, man. We say the King +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous. +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue, +And that the Queen's kindred are made gentlefolks. +How say you, sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have naught to do. + +RICHARD +Naught to do with Mistress Shore? I tell thee, +fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best to do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +RICHARD +We are the Queen's abjects and must obey.-- +Brother, farewell. I will unto the King, +And whatsoe'er you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow "sister," +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +RICHARD +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long. +I will deliver you or else lie for you. +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE I must, perforce. Farewell. +[Exit Clarence, Brakenbury, and guard.] + +RICHARD +Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings? + +[Enter Lord Hastings.] + + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord. + +RICHARD +As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain. +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your Lordship brooked imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must. +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +RICHARD +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too, +For they that were your enemies are his +And have prevailed as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagles should be mewed, +Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +RICHARD What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home: +The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +RICHARD +Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person. +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +Where is he, in his bed? + +HASTINGS He is. + +RICHARD +Go you before, and I will follow you. +[Exit Hastings.] +He cannot live, I hope, and must not die +Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence +With lies well steeled with weighty arguments, +And, if I fail not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live; +Which done, God take King Edward to His mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in. +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I killed her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father; +The which will I, not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market. +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns. +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the corse of Henry the Sixth on a bier, with +Halberds to guard it, Lady Anne being the mourner, +accompanied by Gentlemen.] + + +ANNE +Set down, set down your honorable load, +If honor may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +[They set down the bier.] +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king, +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster, +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood, +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost +To hear the lamentations of poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son, +Stabbed by the selfsame hand that made these +wounds. +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +O, cursed be the hand that made these holes; +Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it; +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence. +More direful hap betide that hated wretch +That makes us wretched by the death of thee +Than I can wish to wolves, to spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venomed thing that lives. +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view, +And that be heir to his unhappiness. +If ever he have wife, let her be made +More miserable by the death of him +Than I am made by my young lord and thee.-- +Come now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there. +[They take up the bier.] +And still, as you are weary of this weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +[Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester.] + + +RICHARD +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +RICHARD +Villains, set down the corse or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +GENTLEMAN +My lord, stand back and let the coffin pass. + +RICHARD +Unmannered dog, stand thou when I command!-- +Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, +Or by Saint Paul I'll strike thee to my foot +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. +[They set down the bier.] + +ANNE, [to the Gentlemen and Halberds] +What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell. +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body; +His soul thou canst not have. Therefore begone. + +RICHARD +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us +not, +For thou hast made the happy Earth thy hell, +Filled it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +[She points to the corpse.] +O, gentlemen, see, see dead Henry's wounds +Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh!-- +Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity, +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells. +Thy deeds, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural.-- +O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! +O Earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his +death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer +dead, +Or Earth gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, +Which his hell-governed arm hath butchered. + +RICHARD +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +ANNE +Villain, thou know'st nor law of God nor man. +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +RICHARD +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +ANNE +O, wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +RICHARD +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed crimes to give me leave +By circumstance but to acquit myself. + +ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +Of these known evils but to give me leave +By circumstance to curse thy cursed self. + +RICHARD +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current but to hang thyself. + +RICHARD +By such despair I should accuse myself. + +ANNE +And by despairing shalt thou stand excused +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself +That didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +RICHARD Say that I slew them not. + +ANNE Then say they were not slain. +But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. + +RICHARD I did not kill your husband. + +ANNE Why then, he is alive. + +RICHARD +Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward's hands. + +ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest. Queen Margaret saw +Thy murd'rous falchion smoking in his blood, +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +RICHARD +I was provoked by her sland'rous tongue, +That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, +That never dream'st on aught but butcheries. +Didst thou not kill this king? + +RICHARD I grant you. + +ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed. +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous. + +RICHARD +The better for the King of heaven that hath him. + +ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +RICHARD +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither, +For he was fitter for that place than Earth. + +ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +RICHARD +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +ANNE Some dungeon. + +RICHARD Your bedchamber. + +ANNE +Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +RICHARD +So will it, madam, till I lie with you. + +ANNE +I hope so. + +RICHARD I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits +And fall something into a slower method: +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +ANNE +Thou wast the cause and most accursed effect. + +RICHARD +Your beauty was the cause of that effect-- +Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my +cheeks. + +RICHARD +These eyes could not endure that beauty's wrack. +You should not blemish it, if I stood by. +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that. It is my day, my life. + +ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life. + +RICHARD +Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. + +ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +RICHARD +It is a quarrel most unnatural +To be revenged on him that loveth thee. + +ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable +To be revenged on him that killed my husband. + +RICHARD +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +RICHARD +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +ANNE +Name him. + +RICHARD Plantagenet. + +ANNE Why, that was he. + +RICHARD +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +ANNE +Where is he? + +RICHARD Here. [(She spits at him.)] Why dost +thou spit at me? + +ANNE +Would it were mortal poison for thy sake. + +RICHARD +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes. + +RICHARD +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +ANNE +Would they were basilisks' to strike thee dead. + +RICHARD +I would they were, that I might die at once, +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt +tears, +Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops. +These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear-- +No, when my father York and Edward wept +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedashed with rain--in that sad time, +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with +weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word. +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues and prompts my tongue to +speak. [She looks scornfully at him.] +Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword, +Which if thou please to hide in this true breast +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. +[He kneels and lays his breast open; +she offers at it with his sword.] +Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry-- +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabbed young +Edward-- +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. +[She falls the sword.] +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +ANNE +Arise, dissembler. Though I wish thy death, +I will not be thy executioner. + +RICHARD, [rising] +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +ANNE +I have already. + +RICHARD That was in thy rage. +Speak it again and, even with the word, +This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love, +Shall for thy love kill a far truer love. +To both their deaths shalt thou be accessory. + +ANNE I would I knew thy heart. + +RICHARD 'Tis figured in my tongue. + +ANNE I fear me both are false. + +RICHARD Then never was man true. + +ANNE Well, well, put up your sword. + +RICHARD Say then my peace is made. + +ANNE That shalt thou know hereafter. + +RICHARD But shall I live in hope? + +ANNE All men I hope live so. + +RICHARD Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +ANNE To take is not to give. +[He places the ring on her hand.] + +RICHARD +Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger; +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart. +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted servant may +But beg one favor at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness forever. + +ANNE What is it? + +RICHARD +That it may please you leave these sad designs +To him that hath most cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby House, +Where, after I have solemnly interred +At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you. +For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +ANNE +With all my heart, and much it joys me too +To see you are become so penitent.-- +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +RICHARD +Bid me farewell. + +ANNE 'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said "farewell" already. +[Two exit with Anne. The bier is taken up.] + +GENTLEMAN Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +RICHARD +No, to Whitefriars. There attend my coming. +[Halberds and gentlemen exit with corse.] +Was ever woman in this humor wooed? +Was ever woman in this humor won? +I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. +What, I that killed her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of my hatred by, +Having God, her conscience, and these bars against +me, +And I no friends to back my suit at all +But the plain devil and dissembling looks? +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since +Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford. +And will she yet abase her eyes on me, +That cropped the golden prime of this sweet prince +And made her widow to a woeful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halts and am misshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while! +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marv'lous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking glass +And entertain a score or two of tailors +To study fashions to adorn my body. +Since I am crept in favor with myself, +I will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Queen Elizabeth, the Lord Marquess of Dorset, +Lord Rivers, and Lord Grey.] + + +RIVERS +Have patience, madam. There's no doubt his +Majesty +Will soon recover his accustomed health. + +GREY +In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse. +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort +And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide on me? + +GREY +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harms. + +GREY +The heavens have blessed you with a goodly son +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Ah, he is young, and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded he shall be Protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet; +But so it must be if the King miscarry. + +[Enter Buckingham and Lord Stanley, Earl of Derby.] + + +GREY +Here comes the lord of Buckingham, and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Good time of day unto your royal Grace. + +STANLEY +God make your Majesty joyful, as you have been. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my lord of Derby, +To your good prayer will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +STANLEY +I do beseech you either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers, +Or if she be accused on true report, +Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds +From wayward sickness and no grounded malice. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Saw you the King today, my lord of Derby? + +STANLEY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his Majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope. His Grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health. Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Ay, madam. He desires to make atonement +Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And between them and my Lord Chamberlain, +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well--but that will never be. +I fear our happiness is at the height. + +[Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and Hastings.] + + +RICHARD +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it! +Who is it that complains unto the King +That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumors. +Because I cannot flatter and look fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +GREY +To who in all this presence speaks your Grace? + +RICHARD +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? When done thee +wrong?-- +Or thee?--Or thee? Or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal Grace, +Whom God preserve better than you would wish, +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The King, on his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else, +Aiming belike at your interior hatred +That in your outward action shows itself +Against my children, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send, that he may learn the ground. + +RICHARD +I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. +Since every Jack became a gentleman, +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester. +You envy my advancement, and my friends'. +God grant we never may have need of you. + +RICHARD +Meantime God grants that we have need of +you. +Our brother is imprisoned by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt, while great promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce some two days since were worth a +noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoyed, +I never did incense his Majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +RICHARD +You may deny that you were not the mean +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS She may, my lord, for-- + +RICHARD +She may, Lord Rivers. Why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that. +She may help you to many fair preferments +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honors on your high desert. +What may she not? She may, ay, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS What, marry, may she? + +RICHARD +What, marry, may she? Marry with a king, +A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too. +Iwis, your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs. +By heaven, I will acquaint his Majesty +Of those gross taunts that oft I have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen with this condition, +To be so baited, scorned, and stormed at. + +[Enter old Queen Margaret, apart from the others.] + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +And lessened be that small, God I beseech Him! +Thy honor, state, and seat is due to me. + +RICHARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +What, threat you me with telling of the King? +Tell him and spare not. Look, what I have said, +I will avouch 't in presence of the King; +I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tower. +'Tis time to speak. My pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Out, devil! I do remember them too well: +Thou killed'st my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewkesbury. + +RICHARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king, +I was a packhorse in his great affairs, +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends. +To royalize his blood, I spent mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. + +RICHARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +In all which time, you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the House of Lancaster.-- +And, Rivers, so were you.--Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere this, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art. + +RICHARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick, +Ay, and forswore himself--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] Which God revenge! + +RICHARD +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's, +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine. +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this world, +Thou cacodemon! There thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We followed then our lord, our sovereign king. +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +RICHARD +If I should be? I had rather be a peddler. +Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy were you this country's king, +As little joy you may suppose in me +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +As little joy enjoys the queen thereof, +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. +[She steps forward.] +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pilled from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that I am queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels.-- +Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away. + +RICHARD +Foul, wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my +sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marred. +That will I make before I let thee go. + +RICHARD +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was, but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou ow'st to me; +[To Queen Elizabeth.] And thou a kingdom;--all +of you, allegiance. +This sorrow that I have by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +RICHARD +The curse my noble father laid on thee +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with +paper, +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gav'st the Duke a clout +Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses then, from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee, +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with +heaven +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment, +Should all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick +curses! +Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder to make him a king. +[To Queen Elizabeth.] Edward thy son, that now is +Prince of Wales, +For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence. +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self. +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's death +And see another, as I see thee now, +Decked in thy rights, as thou art stalled in mine. +Long die thy happy days before thy death, +And, after many lengthened hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen.-- +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers-by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabbed with bloody daggers. God I pray Him +That none of you may live his natural age, +But by some unlooked accident cut off. + +RICHARD +Have done thy charm, thou hateful, withered hag. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou shalt hear +me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace. +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul. +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends. +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be while some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils. +Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog, +Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell, +Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb, +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins, +Thou rag of honor, thou detested-- + +RICHARD Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET Richard! + +RICHARD Ha? + +QUEEN MARGARET I call thee not. + +RICHARD +I cry thee mercy, then, for I did think +That thou hadst called me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did, but looked for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +RICHARD +'Tis done by me and ends in "Margaret." + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [to Queen Margaret] +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune, +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool, thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The day will come that thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-backed +toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you, you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your +duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty: +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects. +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET, [to Rivers] +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, Master Marquess, you are malapert. +Your fire-new stamp of honor is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake +them, +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +RICHARD +Good counsel, marry.--Learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It touches you, my lord, as much as me. + +RICHARD +Ay, and much more; but I was born so high. +Our aerie buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade. Alas, alas, +Witness my son, now in the shade of death, +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aerie buildeth in our aerie's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it is won with blood, lost be it so. + +BUCKINGHAM +Peace, peace, for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me. +[Addressing the others.] Uncharitably with me have +you dealt, +And shamefully my hopes by you are butchered. +My charity is outrage, life my shame, +And in that shame still live my sorrows' rage. + +BUCKINGHAM Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham, I'll kiss thy hand +In sign of league and amity with thee. +Now fair befall thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here, for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I will not think but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle sleeping peace. +[Aside to Buckingham.] O Buckingham, take heed of +yonder dog! +Look when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death. +Have not to do with him. Beware of him. +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +RICHARD +What doth she say, my lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel, +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess.-- +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's. [She exits.] + +BUCKINGHAM +My hair doth stand an end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine. I muse why she's at liberty. + +RICHARD +I cannot blame her. By God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong, and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +RICHARD +Yet you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid; +He is franked up to fatting for his pains. +God pardon them that are the cause thereof. + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +RICHARD +So do I ever--[(speaks to himself)] being well advised, +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +[Enter Catesby.] + + +CATESBY +Madam, his Majesty doth call for you,-- +And for your Grace,--and yours, my gracious +lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, I come.--Lords, will you go with me? + +RIVERS We wait upon your Grace. +[All but Richard, Duke of Gloucester exit.] + +RICHARD +I do the wrong and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, who I indeed have cast in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls, +Namely, to Derby, Hastings, Buckingham, +And tell them 'tis the Queen and her allies +That stir the King against the Duke my brother. +Now they believe it and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Dorset, Grey; +But then I sigh and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil; +And thus I clothe my naked villainy +With odd old ends stol'n forth of Holy Writ, +And seem a saint when most I play the devil. + +[Enter two Murderers.] + +But soft, here come my executioners.-- +How now, my hardy, stout, resolved mates? +Are you now going to dispatch this thing? + +MURDERER +We are, my lord, and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +RICHARD +Well thought upon. I have it here about me. +[He gives a paper.] +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate; do not hear him plead, +For Clarence is well-spoken and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +MURDERER +Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate. +Talkers are no good doers. Be assured +We go to use our hands and not our tongues. + +RICHARD +Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall +tears. +I like you lads. About your business straight. +Go, go, dispatch. + +MURDERERS We will, my noble lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Clarence and Keeper.] + + +KEEPER +Why looks your Grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have passed a miserable night, +So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time. + +KEEPER +What was your dream, my lord? I pray you tell me. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower +And was embarked to cross to Burgundy, +And in my company my brother Gloucester, +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches. Thence we looked toward +England +And cited up a thousand heavy times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster, +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled, and in falling +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +O Lord, methought what pain it was to drown, +What dreadful noise of waters in my ears, +What sights of ugly death within my eyes. +Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks, +A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon, +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scattered in the bottom of the sea. +Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept-- +As 'twere in scorn of eyes--reflecting gems, +That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep +And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by. + +KEEPER +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon these secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had, and often did I strive +To yield the ghost, but still the envious flood +Stopped in my soul and would not let it forth +To find the empty, vast, and wand'ring air, +But smothered it within my panting bulk, +Who almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +KEEPER +Awaked you not in this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +No, no, my dream was lengthened after life. +O, then began the tempest to my soul. +I passed, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that sour ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger-soul +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick, +Who spake aloud "What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?" +And so he vanished. Then came wand'ring by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood, and he shrieked out aloud +"Clarence is come--false, fleeting, perjured +Clarence, +That stabbed me in the field by Tewkesbury. +Seize on him, furies. Take him unto torment." +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environed me and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made my dream. + +KEEPER +No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you. +I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Ah keeper, keeper, I have done these things, +That now give evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake, and see how he requites me.-- +O God, if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone! +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!-- +Keeper, I prithee sit by me awhile. +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +KEEPER +I will, my lord. God give your Grace good rest. +[Clarence sleeps.] + +[Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenant.] + + +BRAKENBURY +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noontide night. +Princes have but their titles for their glories, +An outward honor for an inward toil, +And, for unfelt imaginations, +They often feel a world of restless cares, +So that between their titles and low name +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +[Enter two Murderers.] + + +FIRST MURDERER Ho, who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +What wouldst thou, fellow? And how cam'st thou +hither? + +SECOND MURDERER I would speak with Clarence, and I +came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY What, so brief? + +FIRST MURDERER 'Tis better, sir, than to be tedious.-- +Let him see our commission, and talk no more. +[Brakenbury reads the commission.] + +BRAKENBURY +I am in this commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands. +I will not reason what is meant hereby +Because I will be guiltless from the meaning. +There lies the Duke asleep, and there the keys. +[He hands them keys.] +I'll to the King and signify to him +That thus I have resigned to you my charge. + +FIRST MURDERER You may, sir. 'Tis a point of wisdom. +Fare you well. +[Brakenbury and the Keeper exit.] + +SECOND MURDERER What, shall I stab him as he +sleeps? + +FIRST MURDERER No. He'll say 'twas done cowardly, +when he wakes. + +SECOND MURDERER Why, he shall never wake until the +great Judgment Day. + +FIRST MURDERER Why, then he'll say we stabbed him +sleeping. + +SECOND MURDERER The urging of that word "judgment" +hath bred a kind of remorse in me. + +FIRST MURDERER What, art thou afraid? + +SECOND MURDERER Not to kill him, having a warrant, +but to be damned for killing him, from the which +no warrant can defend me. + +FIRST MURDERER I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +SECOND MURDERER So I am--to let him live. + +FIRST MURDERER I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester +and tell him so. + +SECOND MURDERER Nay, I prithee stay a little. I hope +this passionate humor of mine will change. It was +wont to hold me but while one tells twenty. + +FIRST MURDERER How dost thou feel thyself now? + +SECOND MURDERER Faith, some certain dregs of conscience +are yet within me. + +FIRST MURDERER Remember our reward when the +deed's done. + +SECOND MURDERER Zounds, he dies! I had forgot the +reward. + +FIRST MURDERER Where's thy conscience now? + +SECOND MURDERER O, in the Duke of Gloucester's +purse. + +FIRST MURDERER When he opens his purse to give us +our reward, thy conscience flies out. + +SECOND MURDERER 'Tis no matter. Let it go. There's +few or none will entertain it. + +FIRST MURDERER What if it come to thee again? + +SECOND MURDERER I'll not meddle with it. It makes a +man a coward: a man cannot steal but it accuseth +him; a man cannot swear but it checks him; a man +cannot lie with his neighbor's wife but it detects +him. 'Tis a blushing, shamefaced spirit that mutinies +in a man's bosom. It fills a man full of +obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold +that by chance I found. It beggars any man that +keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for a +dangerous thing, and every man that means to live +well endeavors to trust to himself and live without it. + +FIRST MURDERER Zounds, 'tis even now at my elbow, +persuading me not to kill the Duke. + +SECOND MURDERER Take the devil in thy mind, and +believe him not. He would insinuate with thee but +to make thee sigh. + +FIRST MURDERER I am strong-framed. He cannot prevail +with me. + +SECOND MURDERER Spoke like a tall man that respects +thy reputation. Come, shall we fall to work? + +FIRST MURDERER Take him on the costard with the +hilts of thy sword, and then throw him into the +malmsey butt in the next room. + +SECOND MURDERER O, excellent device--and make a +sop of him! + +FIRST MURDERER Soft, he wakes. + +SECOND MURDERER Strike! + +FIRST MURDERER No, we'll reason with him. +[Clarence wakes.] + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? Give me a cup of wine. + +SECOND MURDERER +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +FIRST MURDERER A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE But not, as I am, royal. + +FIRST MURDERER Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +FIRST MURDERER +My voice is now the King's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me. Why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +SECOND MURDERER To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE To murder me? + +BOTH Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +FIRST MURDERER +Offended us you have not, but the King. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +SECOND MURDERER +Never, my lord. Therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you drawn forth among a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offense? +Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? Or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death +Before I be convict by course of law? +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption, +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart, and lay no hands on me. +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +FIRST MURDERER +What we will do, we do upon command. + +SECOND MURDERER +And he that hath commanded is our king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassals, the great King of kings +Hath in the table of His law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder. Will you then +Spurn at His edict and fulfill a man's? +Take heed, for He holds vengeance in His hand +To hurl upon their heads that break His law. + +SECOND MURDERER +And that same vengeance doth He hurl on thee +For false forswearing and for murder too. +Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight +In quarrel of the House of Lancaster. + +FIRST MURDERER +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow, and with thy treacherous +blade +Unrippedst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +SECOND MURDERER +Whom thou wast sworn to cherish and defend. + +FIRST MURDERER +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us +When thou hast broke it in such dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! For whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake. +He sends you not to murder me for this, +For in that sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be avenged for the deed, +O, know you yet He doth it publicly! +Take not the quarrel from His powerful arm; +He needs no indirect or lawless course +To cut off those that have offended Him. + +FIRST MURDERER +Who made thee then a bloody minister +When gallant-springing, brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +FIRST MURDERER +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy faults +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +If you do love my brother, hate not me. +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you are hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +SECOND MURDERER +You are deceived. Your brother Gloucester hates +you. + +CLARENCE +O no, he loves me, and he holds me dear. +Go you to him from me. + +FIRST MURDERER Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Blessed his three sons with his victorious arm, +He little thought of this divided friendship. +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +FIRST MURDERER +Ay, millstones, as he lessoned us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +FIRST MURDERER +Right, as snow in harvest. Come, you deceive +yourself. +'Tis he that sends us to destroy you here. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be, for he bewept my fortune, +And hugged me in his arms, and swore with sobs +That he would labor my delivery. + +FIRST MURDERER +Why, so he doth, when he delivers you +From this Earth's thralldom to the joys of heaven. + +SECOND MURDERER +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Have you that holy feeling in your souls +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And are you yet to your own souls so blind +That you will war with God by murd'ring me? +O sirs, consider: they that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +SECOND MURDERER, [to First Murderer] +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE Relent, and save your souls. +Which of you--if you were a prince's son +Being pent from liberty, as I am now-- +If two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? Ay, you would beg, +Were you in my distress. + +FIRST MURDERER +Relent? No. 'Tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +[To Second Murderer.] My friend, I spy some pity +in thy looks. +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side and entreat for me. +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +SECOND MURDERER Look behind you, my lord. + +FIRST MURDERER +Take that, and that. [(Stabs him.)] If all this will not +do, +I'll drown you in the malmsey butt within. +[He exits with the body.] + +SECOND MURDERER +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatched. +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous murder. + +[Enter First Murderer.] + + +FIRST MURDERER +How now? What mean'st thou that thou help'st me +not? +By heavens, the Duke shall know how slack you +have been. + +SECOND MURDERER +I would he knew that I had saved his brother. +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say, +For I repent me that the Duke is slain. [He exits.] + +FIRST MURDERER +So do not I. Go, coward as thou art. +Well, I'll go hide the body in some hole +Till that the Duke give order for his burial. +And when I have my meed, I will away, +For this will out, and then I must not stay. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter King Edward, sick, Queen Elizabeth, +Lord Marquess Dorset, Rivers, Hastings, Buckingham, +Woodeville, Grey, and Scales.] + + +KING EDWARD +Why, so. Now have I done a good day's work. +You peers, continue this united league. +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence, +And more in peace my soul shall part to heaven +Since I have made my friends at peace on Earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand. +Dissemble not your hatred. Swear your love. + +RIVERS, [taking Hastings' hand] +By heaven, my soul is purged from grudging hate, +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I as I truly swear the like. + +KING EDWARD +Take heed you dally not before your king, +Lest He that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I as I swear perfect love. + +RIVERS +And I as I love Hastings with my heart. + +KING EDWARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Madam, yourself is not exempt from this,-- +Nor you, son Dorset,--Buckingham, nor you. +You have been factious one against the other.-- +Wife, love Lord Hastings. Let him kiss your hand, +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +There, Hastings, I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine. +[Hastings kisses her hand.] + +KING EDWARD +Dorset, embrace him.--Hastings, love Lord +Marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be inviolable. + +HASTINGS And so swear I. [They embrace.] + +KING EDWARD +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +Upon your Grace, but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love. +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend, +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile +Be he unto me: this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in love to you or yours. +[Queen Elizabeth and Buckingham embrace.] + +KING EDWARD +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here +To make the blessed period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM And in good time +Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliffe and the Duke. + +[Enter Ratcliffe, and Richard, Duke of Gloucester.] + + +RICHARD +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen, +And, princely peers, a happy time of day. + +KING EDWARD +Happy indeed, as we have spent the day. +Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, +Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling, wrong-incensed peers. + +RICHARD +A blessed labor, my most sovereign lord. +Among this princely heap, if any here +By false intelligence or wrong surmise +Hold me a foe, +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace. +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service;-- +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us;-- +Of you and you, Lord Rivers and of Dorset, +That all without desert have frowned on me;-- +Of you, Lord Woodeville and Lord Scales;--of you, +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born tonight. +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign lord, I do beseech your Highness +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +RICHARD +Why, madam, have I offered love for this, +To be so flouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead? +[They all start.] +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +KING EDWARD +Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord, and no man in the presence +But his red color hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD +Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed. + +RICHARD +But he, poor man, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear. +Some tardy cripple bare the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion. + +[Enter Lord Stanley, Earl of Derby.] + + +STANLEY, [kneeling] +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done. + +KING EDWARD +I prithee, peace. My soul is full of sorrow. + +STANLEY +I will not rise unless your Highness hear me. + +KING EDWARD +Then say at once what is it thou requests. + +STANLEY +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life, +Who slew today a riotous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD +Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? +My brother killed no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was bitter death. +Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath, +Kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised? +Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field at Tewkesbury, +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said "Dear brother, live, and be a king"? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his garments and did give himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully plucked, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon, +And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. +[Stanley rises.] +But for my brother, not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life, +Yet none of you would once beg for his life. +O God, I fear Thy justice will take hold +On me and you, and mine and yours for this!-- +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.-- +Ah, poor Clarence. +[Some exit with King and Queen.] + +RICHARD +This is the fruits of rashness. Marked you not +How that the guilty kindred of the Queen +Looked pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the King. +God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go +To comfort Edward with our company? + +BUCKINGHAM We wait upon your Grace. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the old Duchess of York with the two +children of Clarence.] + + +BOY +Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS No, boy. + +DAUGHTER +Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, +And cry "O Clarence, my unhappy son"? + +BOY +Why do you look on us and shake your head, +And call us orphans, wretches, castaways, +If that our noble father were alive? + +DUCHESS +My pretty cousins, you mistake me both. +I do lament the sickness of the King, +As loath to lose him, not your father's death. +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +BOY +Then, you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. +The King mine uncle is to blame for it. +God will revenge it, whom I will importune +With earnest prayers, all to that effect. + +DAUGHTER And so will I. + +DUCHESS +Peace, children, peace. The King doth love you +well. +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +BOY +Grandam, we can, for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me the King, provoked to it by the Queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him; +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And pitied me, and kindly kissed my cheek, +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as a child. + +DUCHESS +Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape, +And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice. +He is my son, ay, and therein my shame, +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +BOY +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS Ay, boy. + +BOY +I cannot think it. Hark, what noise is this? + +[Enter Queen Elizabeth with her hair about her ears, +Rivers and Dorset after her.] + + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence. +Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches when the root is gone? +Why wither not the leaves that want their sap? +If you will live, lament. If die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's, +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night. + +DUCHESS +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband. +I have bewept a worthy husband's death +And lived with looking on his images; +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are cracked in pieces by malignant death, +And I, for comfort, have but one false glass +That grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow, yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left, +But death hath snatched my husband from mine +arms +And plucked two crutches from my feeble hands, +Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my moan, +To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries! + +BOY, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death. +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +DAUGHTER, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Our fatherless distress was left unmoaned. +Your widow-dolor likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation. +I am not barren to bring forth complaints. +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being governed by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world. +Ah, for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +CHILDREN +Ah, for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? And he's gone. + +CHILDREN +What stay had we but Clarence? And he's gone. + +DUCHESS +What stays had I but they? And they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss. + +CHILDREN +Were never orphans had so dear a loss. + +DUCHESS +Was never mother had so dear a loss. +Alas, I am the mother of these griefs. +Their woes are parceled; mine is general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep; so doth not she. +These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I; +I for an Edward weep; so do not they. +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distressed, +Pour all your tears. I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentation. + +DORSET, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness His doing. +In common worldly things, 'tis called ungrateful +With dull unwillingness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son. Send straight for +him. +Let him be crowned. In him your comfort lives. +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +[Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester, Buckingham, Lord +Stanley, Earl of Derby, Hastings, and Ratcliffe.] + + +RICHARD, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star, +But none can help our harms by wailing them.-- +Madam my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. [He kneels.] + +DUCHESS +God bless thee, and put meekness in thy breast, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty. + +RICHARD, [standing] +Amen. [Aside.] And make me die a good old man! +That is the butt end of a mother's blessing; +I marvel that her Grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers +That bear this heavy mutual load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love. +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancor of your high-swoll'n hates, +But lately splintered, knit, and joined together, +Must gently be preserved, cherished, and kept. +Meseemeth good that with some little train +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet +Hither to London, to be crowned our king. + +RIVERS +Why "with some little train," my lord of +Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude +The new-healed wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet +ungoverned. +Where every horse bears his commanding rein +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +RICHARD +I hope the King made peace with all of us; +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me, and so, I think, in all. +Yet since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged. +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham +That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince. + +HASTINGS And so say I. + +RICHARD +Then be it so, and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to +Ludlow.-- +Madam, and you, my sister, will you go +To give your censures in this business? +[All but Buckingham and Richard exit.] + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake let not us two stay at home. +For by the way I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talked of, +To part the Queen's proud kindred from the Prince. + +RICHARD +My other self, my council's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin, +I, as a child, will go by thy direction. +Toward Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter one Citizen at one door, and another at the other.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN +Good morrow, neighbor, whither away so fast? + +SECOND CITIZEN +I promise you I scarcely know myself. +Hear you the news abroad? + +FIRST CITIZEN Yes, that the King is dead. + +SECOND CITIZEN +Ill news, by 'r Lady. Seldom comes the better. +I fear, I fear, 'twill prove a giddy world. + +[Enter another Citizen.] + + +THIRD CITIZEN +Neighbors, God speed. + +FIRST CITIZEN Give you good morrow, sir. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? + +SECOND CITIZEN +Ay, sir, it is too true, God help the while. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +FIRST CITIZEN +No, no, by God's good grace, his son shall reign. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Woe to that land that's governed by a child. + +SECOND CITIZEN +In him there is a hope of government, +Which, in his nonage, council under him, +And, in his full and ripened years, himself, +No doubt shall then, and till then, govern well. + +FIRST CITIZEN +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crowned in Paris but at nine months old. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot, +For then this land was famously enriched +With politic grave counsel; then the King +Had virtuous uncles to protect his Grace. + +FIRST CITIZEN +Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Better it were they all came by his father, +Or by his father there were none at all, +For emulation who shall now be nearest +Will touch us all too near if God prevent not. +O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester, +And the Queen's sons and brothers haught and +proud, +And were they to be ruled, and not to rule, +This sickly land might solace as before. + +FIRST CITIZEN +Come, come, we fear the worst. All will be well. + +THIRD CITIZEN +When clouds are seen, wise men put on their +cloaks; +When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; +When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? +Untimely storms makes men expect a dearth. +All may be well; but if God sort it so, +'Tis more than we deserve or I expect. + +SECOND CITIZEN +Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear. +You cannot reason almost with a man +That looks not heavily and full of dread. + +THIRD CITIZEN +Before the days of change, still is it so. +By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust +Ensuing danger, as by proof we see +The water swell before a boist'rous storm. +But leave it all to God. Whither away? + +SECOND CITIZEN +Marry, we were sent for to the Justices. + +THIRD CITIZEN +And so was I. I'll bear you company. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Archbishop, the young Duke of York, +Queen Elizabeth, and the Duchess of York.] + + +ARCHBISHOP +Last night, I hear, they lay at Stony Stratford, +And at Northampton they do rest tonight. +Tomorrow or next day they will be here. + +DUCHESS +I long with all my heart to see the Prince. +I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +But I hear no; they say my son of York +Has almost overta'en him in his growth. + +YORK +Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. + +DUCHESS +Why, my good cousin? It is good to grow. + +YORK +Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper, +My uncle Rivers talked how I did grow +More than my brother. "Ay," quoth my uncle +Gloucester, +"Small herbs have grace; great weeds do grow +apace." +And since, methinks I would not grow so fast +Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make +haste. + +DUCHESS +Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold +In him that did object the same to thee! +He was the wretched'st thing when he was young, +So long a-growing and so leisurely, +That if his rule were true, he should be gracious. + +YORK +And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam. + +DUCHESS +I hope he is, but yet let mothers doubt. + +YORK +Now, by my troth, if I had been remembered, +I could have given my uncle's Grace a flout +To touch his growth nearer than he touched mine. + +DUCHESS +How, my young York? I prithee let me hear it. + +YORK +Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast +That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old. +'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. +Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. + +DUCHESS +I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this? + +YORK Grandam, his nurse. + +DUCHESS +His nurse? Why, she was dead ere thou wast born. + +YORK +If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A parlous boy! Go to, you are too shrewd. + +DUCHESS +Good madam, be not angry with the child. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH Pitchers have ears. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +ARCHBISHOP Here comes a messenger.--What news? + +MESSENGER +Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH How doth the Prince? + +MESSENGER Well, madam, and in health. + +DUCHESS What is thy news? + +MESSENGER +Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret, +And, with them, Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. + +DUCHESS Who hath committed them? + +MESSENGER +The mighty dukes, Gloucester and Buckingham. + +ARCHBISHOP For what offense? + +MESSENGER +The sum of all I can, I have disclosed. +Why, or for what, the nobles were committed +Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Ay me! I see the ruin of my house. +The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind. +Insulting tyranny begins to jut +Upon the innocent and aweless throne. +Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre. +I see, as in a map, the end of all. + +DUCHESS +Accursed and unquiet wrangling days, +How many of you have mine eyes beheld? +My husband lost his life to get the crown, +And often up and down my sons were tossed +For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss. +And being seated, and domestic broils +Clean overblown, themselves the conquerors +Make war upon themselves, brother to brother, +Blood to blood, self against self. O, preposterous +And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen, +Or let me die, to look on Earth no more. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [to York] +Come, come, my boy. We will to sanctuary.-- +Madam, farewell. + +DUCHESS Stay, I will go with you. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +You have no cause. + +ARCHBISHOP, [to Queen Elizabeth] My gracious lady, go, +And thither bear your treasure and your goods. +For my part, I'll resign unto your Grace +The seal I keep; and so betide to me +As well I tender you and all of yours. +Go. I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[The trumpets sound. Enter young Prince Edward, +Richard Duke of Gloucester, Buckingham, +the Cardinal, Catesby, and others.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. + +RICHARD, [to Prince] +Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign. +The weary way hath made you melancholy. + +PRINCE +No, uncle, but our crosses on the way +Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy. +I want more uncles here to welcome me. + +RICHARD +Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years +Hath not yet dived into the world's deceit; +Nor more can you distinguish of a man +Than of his outward show, which, God He knows, +Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. +Those uncles which you want were dangerous. +Your Grace attended to their sugared words +But looked not on the poison of their hearts. +God keep you from them, and from such false +friends. + +PRINCE +God keep me from false friends, but they were none. + +RICHARD +My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you. + +[Enter Lord Mayor with others.] + + +MAYOR +God bless your Grace with health and happy days. + +PRINCE +I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all.-- +I thought my mother and my brother York +Would long ere this have met us on the way. +Fie, what a slug is Hastings that he comes not +To tell us whether they will come or no! + +[Enter Lord Hastings.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +And in good time here comes the sweating lord. + +PRINCE +Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come? + +HASTINGS +On what occasion God He knows, not I, +The Queen your mother and your brother York +Have taken sanctuary. The tender prince +Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace, +But by his mother was perforce withheld. + +BUCKINGHAM +Fie, what an indirect and peevish course +Is this of hers!--Lord Cardinal, will your Grace +Persuade the Queen to send the Duke of York +Unto his princely brother presently?-- +If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him, +And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. + +CARDINAL +My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory +Can from his mother win the Duke of York, +Anon expect him here; but if she be obdurate +To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid +We should infringe the holy privilege +Of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land +Would I be guilty of so deep a sin. + +BUCKINGHAM +You are too senseless obstinate, my lord, +Too ceremonious and traditional. +Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, +You break not sanctuary in seizing him. +The benefit thereof is always granted +To those whose dealings have deserved the place +And those who have the wit to claim the place. +This prince hath neither claimed it nor deserved it +And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it. +Then taking him from thence that is not there, +You break no privilege nor charter there. +Oft have I heard of sanctuary men, +But sanctuary children, never till now. + +CARDINAL +My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for once.-- +Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me? + +HASTINGS I go, my lord. + +PRINCE +Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. +[The Cardinal and Hastings exit.] +Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come, +Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? + +RICHARD +Where it seems best unto your royal self. +If I may counsel you, some day or two +Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower; +Then where you please and shall be thought most fit +For your best health and recreation. + +PRINCE +I do not like the Tower, of any place.-- +Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord? + +BUCKINGHAM +He did, my gracious lord, begin that place, +Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. + +PRINCE +Is it upon record, or else reported +Successively from age to age, he built it? + +BUCKINGHAM Upon record, my gracious lord. + +PRINCE +But say, my lord, it were not registered, +Methinks the truth should live from age to age, +As 'twere retailed to all posterity, +Even to the general all-ending day. + +RICHARD, [aside] +So wise so young, they say, do never live long. + +PRINCE What say you, uncle? + +RICHARD +I say, without characters fame lives long. +[Aside.] Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, +I moralize two meanings in one word. + +PRINCE +That Julius Caesar was a famous man. +With what his valor did enrich his wit, +His wit set down to make his valor live. +Death makes no conquest of this conqueror, +For now he lives in fame, though not in life. +I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham-- + +BUCKINGHAM What, my gracious lord? + +PRINCE +An if I live until I be a man, +I'll win our ancient right in France again +Or die a soldier, as I lived a king. + +RICHARD, [aside] +Short summers lightly have a forward spring. + +[Enter young Duke of York, Hastings, and the +Cardinal.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Now in good time here comes the Duke of York. + +PRINCE +Richard of York, how fares our loving brother? + +YORK +Well, my dread lord--so must I call you now. + +PRINCE +Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours. +Too late he died that might have kept that title, +Which by his death hath lost much majesty. + +RICHARD +How fares our cousin, noble lord of York? + +YORK +I thank you, gentle uncle. O my lord, +You said that idle weeds are fast in growth. +The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far. + +RICHARD +He hath, my lord. + +YORK And therefore is he idle? + +RICHARD +O my fair cousin, I must not say so. + +YORK +Then he is more beholding to you than I. + +RICHARD +He may command me as my sovereign, +But you have power in me as in a kinsman. + +YORK +I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger. + +RICHARD +My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart. + +PRINCE A beggar, brother? + +YORK +Of my kind uncle, that I know will give, +And being but a toy, which is no grief to give. + +RICHARD +A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. + +YORK +A greater gift? O, that's the sword to it. + +RICHARD +Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. + +YORK +O, then I see you will part but with light gifts. +In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay. + +RICHARD +It is too heavy for your Grace to wear. + +YORK +I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. + +RICHARD +What, would you have my weapon, little lord? + +YORK +I would, that I might thank you as you call me. + +RICHARD How? + +YORK Little. + +PRINCE +My lord of York will still be cross in talk. +Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him. + +YORK +You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me.-- +Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me. +Because that I am little, like an ape, +He thinks that you should bear me on your +shoulders. + +BUCKINGHAM, [aside] +With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! +To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle, +He prettily and aptly taunts himself. +So cunning and so young is wonderful. + +RICHARD, [to Prince] +My lord, will 't please you pass along? +Myself and my good cousin Buckingham +Will to your mother, to entreat of her +To meet you at the Tower and welcome you. + +YORK, [to Prince] +What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord? + +PRINCE +My Lord Protector needs will have it so. + +YORK +I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. + +RICHARD Why, what should you fear? + +YORK +Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost. +My grandam told me he was murdered there. + +PRINCE I fear no uncles dead. + +RICHARD Nor none that live, I hope. + +PRINCE +An if they live, I hope I need not fear. +[To York.] But come, my lord. With a heavy heart, +Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. +[A sennet. Prince Edward, the Duke of York, +and Hastings exit. Richard, Buckingham, +and Catesby remain.] + +BUCKINGHAM, [to Richard] +Think you, my lord, this little prating York +Was not incensed by his subtle mother +To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously? + +RICHARD +No doubt, no doubt. O, 'tis a parlous boy, +Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable. +He is all the mother's, from the top to toe. + +BUCKINGHAM +Well, let them rest.--Come hither, Catesby. +Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend +As closely to conceal what we impart. +Thou knowest our reasons, urged upon the way. +What thinkest thou? Is it not an easy matter +To make William Lord Hastings of our mind +For the installment of this noble duke +In the seat royal of this famous isle? + +CATESBY +He, for his father's sake, so loves the Prince +That he will not be won to aught against him. + +BUCKINGHAM +What think'st thou then of Stanley? Will not he? + +CATESBY +He will do all in all as Hastings doth. + +BUCKINGHAM +Well then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby, +And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings +How he doth stand affected to our purpose +And summon him tomorrow to the Tower +To sit about the coronation. +If thou dost find him tractable to us, +Encourage him and tell him all our reasons. +If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling, +Be thou so too, and so break off the talk, +And give us notice of his inclination; +For we tomorrow hold divided councils, +Wherein thyself shalt highly be employed. + +RICHARD +Commend me to Lord William. Tell him, Catesby, +His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries +Tomorrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle, +And bid my lord, for joy of this good news, +Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good Catesby, go effect this business soundly. + +CATESBY +My good lords both, with all the heed I can. + +RICHARD +Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep? + +CATESBY You shall, my lord. + +RICHARD +At Crosby House, there shall you find us both. +[Catesby exits.] + +BUCKINGHAM +Now, my lord, what shall we do if we perceive +Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? + +RICHARD +Chop off his head. Something we will determine. +And look when I am king, claim thou of me +The earldom of Hereford, and all the movables +Whereof the King my brother was possessed. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll claim that promise at your Grace's hand. + +RICHARD +And look to have it yielded with all kindness. +Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards +We may digest our complots in some form. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter a Messenger to the door of Hastings.] + + +MESSENGER, [knocking] My lord, my lord. + +HASTINGS, [within] Who knocks? + +MESSENGER One from the Lord Stanley. + +HASTINGS, [within] What is 't o'clock? + +MESSENGER Upon the stroke of four. + +[Enter Lord Hastings.] + + +HASTINGS +Cannot my Lord Stanley sleep these tedious nights? + +MESSENGER +So it appears by that I have to say. +First, he commends him to your noble self. + +HASTINGS What then? + +MESSENGER +Then certifies your Lordship that this night +He dreamt the boar had razed off his helm. +Besides, he says there are two councils kept, +And that may be determined at the one +Which may make you and him to rue at th' other. +Therefore he sends to know your Lordship's +pleasure, +If you will presently take horse with him +And with all speed post with him toward the north +To shun the danger that his soul divines. + +HASTINGS +Go, fellow, go. Return unto thy lord. +Bid him not fear the separated council. +His Honor and myself are at the one, +And at the other is my good friend Catesby, +Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us +Whereof I shall not have intelligence. +Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance. +And for his dreams, I wonder he's so simple +To trust the mock'ry of unquiet slumbers. +To fly the boar before the boar pursues +Were to incense the boar to follow us +And make pursuit where he did mean no chase. +Go, bid thy master rise and come to me, +And we will both together to the Tower, +Where he shall see the boar will use us kindly. + +MESSENGER +I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say. [He exits.] + +[Enter Catesby.] + + +CATESBY +Many good morrows to my noble lord. + +HASTINGS +Good morrow, Catesby. You are early stirring. +What news, what news in this our tott'ring state? + +CATESBY +It is a reeling world indeed, my lord, +And I believe will never stand upright +Till Richard wear the garland of the realm. + +HASTINGS +How "wear the garland"? Dost thou mean the +crown? + +CATESBY Ay, my good lord. + +HASTINGS +I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders +Before I'll see the crown so foul misplaced. +But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it? + +CATESBY +Ay, on my life, and hopes to find you forward +Upon his party for the gain thereof; +And thereupon he sends you this good news, +That this same very day your enemies, +The kindred of the Queen, must die at Pomfret. + +HASTINGS +Indeed, I am no mourner for that news, +Because they have been still my adversaries. +But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side +To bar my master's heirs in true descent, +God knows I will not do it, to the death. + +CATESBY +God keep your Lordship in that gracious mind. + +HASTINGS +But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence, +That they which brought me in my master's hate, +I live to look upon their tragedy. +Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older +I'll send some packing that yet think not on 't. + +CATESBY +'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, +When men are unprepared and look not for it. + +HASTINGS +O monstrous, monstrous! And so falls it out +With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey; and so 'twill do +With some men else that think themselves as safe +As thou and I, who, as thou know'st, are dear +To princely Richard and to Buckingham. + +CATESBY +The Princes both make high account of you-- +[Aside.] For they account his head upon the Bridge. + +HASTINGS +I know they do, and I have well deserved it. + +[Enter Lord Stanley.] + +Come on, come on. Where is your boar-spear, man? +Fear you the boar and go so unprovided? + +STANLEY +My lord, good morrow.--Good morrow, Catesby.-- +You may jest on, but, by the Holy Rood, +I do not like these several councils, I. + +HASTINGS +My lord, I hold my life as dear as you do yours, +And never in my days, I do protest, +Was it so precious to me as 'tis now. +Think you but that I know our state secure, +I would be so triumphant as I am? + +STANLEY +The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London, +Were jocund and supposed their states were sure, +And they indeed had no cause to mistrust; +But yet you see how soon the day o'ercast. +This sudden stab of rancor I misdoubt. +Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward! +What, shall we toward the Tower? The day is spent. + +HASTINGS +Come, come. Have with you. Wot you what, my lord? +Today the lords you talked of are beheaded. + +STANLEY +They, for their truth, might better wear their heads +Than some that have accused them wear their hats. +But come, my lord, let's away. + +[Enter a Pursuivant.] + + +HASTINGS +Go on before. I'll talk with this good fellow. +[Lord Stanley and Catesby exit.] +How now, sirrah? How goes the world with thee? + +PURSUIVANT +The better that your Lordship please to ask. + +HASTINGS +I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now +Than when thou met'st me last where now we meet. +Then was I going prisoner to the Tower +By the suggestion of the Queen's allies. +But now, I tell thee--keep it to thyself-- +This day those enemies are put to death, +And I in better state than e'er I was. + +PURSUIVANT +God hold it, to your Honor's good content! + +HASTINGS +Gramercy, fellow. There, drink that for me. +[Throws him his purse.] + +PURSUIVANT I thank your Honor. [Pursuivant exits.] + +[Enter a Priest.] + + +PRIEST +Well met, my lord. I am glad to see your Honor. + +HASTINGS +I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart. +I am in your debt for your last exercise. +Come the next sabbath, and I will content you. + +PRIEST I'll wait upon your Lordship. [Priest exits.] + +[Enter Buckingham.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +What, talking with a priest, Lord Chamberlain? +Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest; +Your Honor hath no shriving work in hand. + +HASTINGS +Good faith, and when I met this holy man, +The men you talk of came into my mind. +What, go you toward the Tower? + +BUCKINGHAM +I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there. +I shall return before your Lordship thence. + +HASTINGS +Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there. + +BUCKINGHAM, [aside] +And supper too, although thou know'st it not.-- +Come, will you go? + +HASTINGS I'll wait upon your Lordship. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir Richard Ratcliffe, with Halberds, carrying the +nobles Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan to death at Pomfret.] + + +RIVERS +Sir Richard Ratcliffe, let me tell thee this: +Today shalt thou behold a subject die +For truth, for duty, and for loyalty. + +GREY, [to Ratcliffe] +God bless the Prince from all the pack of you! +A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers. + +VAUGHAN, [to Ratcliffe] +You live that shall cry woe for this hereafter. + +RATCLIFFE +Dispatch. The limit of your lives is out. + +RIVERS +O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, +Fatal and ominous to noble peers! +Within the guilty closure of thy walls, +Richard the Second here was hacked to death, +And, for more slander to thy dismal seat, +We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink. + +GREY +Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads, +When she exclaimed on Hastings, you, and I, +For standing by when Richard stabbed her son. + +RIVERS +Then cursed she Richard. Then cursed she +Buckingham. +Then cursed she Hastings. O, remember, God, +To hear her prayer for them as now for us! +And for my sister and her princely sons, +Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood, +Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt. + +RATCLIFFE +Make haste. The hour of death is expiate. + +RIVERS +Come, Grey. Come, Vaughan. Let us here embrace. +[They embrace.] +Farewell until we meet again in heaven. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Buckingham, Lord Stanley, Earl of Derby, +Hastings, Bishop of Ely, Norfolk, Ratcliffe, Lovell, with +others, at a table.] + + +HASTINGS +Now, noble peers, the cause why we are met +Is to determine of the coronation. +In God's name, speak. When is the royal day? + +BUCKINGHAM +Is all things ready for the royal time? + +STANLEY +It is, and wants but nomination. + +ELY +Tomorrow, then, I judge a happy day. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who knows the Lord Protector's mind herein? +Who is most inward with the noble duke? + +ELY +Your Grace, we think, should soonest know his +mind. + +BUCKINGHAM +We know each other's faces; for our hearts, +He knows no more of mine than I of yours, +Or I of his, my lord, than you of mine.-- +Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love. + +HASTINGS +I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well. +But for his purpose in the coronation, +I have not sounded him, nor he delivered +His gracious pleasure any way therein. +But you, my honorable lords, may name the time, +And in the Duke's behalf I'll give my voice, +Which I presume he'll take in gentle part. + +[Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester.] + + +ELY +In happy time here comes the Duke himself. + +RICHARD +My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow. +I have been long a sleeper; but I trust +My absence doth neglect no great design +Which by my presence might have been concluded. + +BUCKINGHAM +Had you not come upon your cue, my lord, +William Lord Hastings had pronounced your part-- +I mean your voice for crowning of the King. + +RICHARD +Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder. +His Lordship knows me well and loves me well.-- +My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn +I saw good strawberries in your garden there; +I do beseech you, send for some of them. + +ELY +Marry and will, my lord, with all my heart. +[Exit Bishop of Ely.] + +RICHARD +Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you. +[They move aside.] +Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business +And finds the testy gentleman so hot +That he will lose his head ere give consent +His master's child, as worshipfully he terms it, +Shall lose the royalty of England's throne. + +BUCKINGHAM +Withdraw yourself awhile. I'll go with you. +[Richard and Buckingham exit.] + +STANLEY +We have not yet set down this day of triumph. +Tomorrow, in my judgment, is too sudden, +For I myself am not so well provided +As else I would be, were the day prolonged. + +[Enter the Bishop of Ely.] + + +ELY +Where is my lord the Duke of Gloucester? +I have sent for these strawberries. + +HASTINGS +His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth this +morning. +There's some conceit or other likes him well +When that he bids good morrow with such spirit. +I think there's never a man in Christendom +Can lesser hide his love or hate than he, +For by his face straight shall you know his heart. + +STANLEY +What of his heart perceive you in his face +By any livelihood he showed today? + +HASTINGS +Marry, that with no man here he is offended, +For were he, he had shown it in his looks. + +[Enter Richard and Buckingham.] + + +RICHARD +I pray you all, tell me what they deserve +That do conspire my death with devilish plots +Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevailed +Upon my body with their hellish charms? + +HASTINGS +The tender love I bear your Grace, my lord, +Makes me most forward in this princely presence +To doom th' offenders, whosoe'er they be. +I say, my lord, they have deserved death. + +RICHARD +Then be your eyes the witness of their evil. +[He shows his arm.] +Look how I am bewitched! Behold mine arm +Is like a blasted sapling withered up; +And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch, +Consorted with that harlot, strumpet Shore, +That by their witchcraft thus have marked me. + +HASTINGS +If they have done this deed, my noble lord-- + +RICHARD +If? Thou protector of this damned strumpet, +Talk'st thou to me of "ifs"? Thou art a traitor.-- +Off with his head. Now by Saint Paul I swear +I will not dine until I see the same.-- +Lovell and Ratcliffe, look that it be done.-- +The rest that love me, rise and follow me. +[They exit. Lovell and Ratcliffe remain, +with the Lord Hastings.] + +HASTINGS +Woe, woe for England! Not a whit for me, +For I, too fond, might have prevented this. +Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm, +And I did scorn it and disdain to fly. +Three times today my foot-cloth horse did stumble, +And started when he looked upon the Tower, +As loath to bear me to the slaughterhouse. +O, now I need the priest that spake to me! +I now repent I told the pursuivant, +As too triumphing, how mine enemies +Today at Pomfret bloodily were butchered, +And I myself secure in grace and favor. +O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse +Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head. + +RATCLIFFE +Come, come, dispatch. The Duke would be at +dinner. +Make a short shrift. He longs to see your head. + +HASTINGS +O momentary grace of mortal men, +Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! +Who builds his hope in air of your good looks +Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, +Ready with every nod to tumble down +Into the fatal bowels of the deep. + +LOVELL +Come, come, dispatch. 'Tis bootless to exclaim. + +HASTINGS +O bloody Richard! Miserable England, +I prophesy the fearfull'st time to thee +That ever wretched age hath looked upon.-- +Come, lead me to the block. Bear him my head. +They smile at me who shortly shall be dead. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Richard and Buckingham, in rotten armor, +marvelous ill-favored.] + + +RICHARD +Come, cousin, canst thou quake and change thy +color, +Murder thy breath in middle of a word, +And then again begin, and stop again, +As if thou were distraught and mad with terror? + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian, +Speak, and look back, and pry on every side, +Tremble and start at wagging of a straw, +Intending deep suspicion. Ghastly looks +Are at my service, like enforced smiles, +And both are ready, in their offices, +At any time to grace my stratagems. +But what, is Catesby gone? + +RICHARD +He is; and see he brings the Mayor along. + +[Enter the Mayor and Catesby.] + + +BUCKINGHAM Lord Mayor-- + +RICHARD Look to the drawbridge there! + +BUCKINGHAM Hark, a drum! + +RICHARD Catesby, o'erlook the walls. +[Catesby exits.] + +BUCKINGHAM Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent-- + +RICHARD +Look back! Defend thee! Here are enemies. + +BUCKINGHAM +God and our innocence defend and guard us! + +[Enter Lovell and Ratcliffe, with Hastings' head.] + + +RICHARD +Be patient. They are friends, Ratcliffe and Lovell. + +LOVELL +Here is the head of that ignoble traitor, +The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings. + +RICHARD +So dear I loved the man that I must weep. +I took him for the plainest harmless creature +That breathed upon the Earth a Christian; +Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded +The history of all her secret thoughts. +So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue +That, his apparent open guilt omitted-- +I mean his conversation with Shore's wife-- +He lived from all attainder of suspects. + +BUCKINGHAM +Well, well, he was the covert'st sheltered traitor +That ever lived.-- +Would you imagine, or almost believe, +Were 't not that by great preservation +We live to tell it, that the subtle traitor +This day had plotted, in the council house, +To murder me and my good lord of Gloucester? + +MAYOR Had he done so? + +RICHARD +What, think you we are Turks or infidels? +Or that we would, against the form of law, +Proceed thus rashly in the villain's death, +But that the extreme peril of the case, +The peace of England, and our persons' safety +Enforced us to this execution? + +MAYOR +Now fair befall you! He deserved his death, +And your good Graces both have well proceeded +To warn false traitors from the like attempts. + +BUCKINGHAM +I never looked for better at his hands +After he once fell in with Mistress Shore. +Yet had we not determined he should die +Until your Lordship came to see his end +(Which now the loving haste of these our friends, +Something against our meanings, have prevented), +Because, my lord, I would have had you heard +The traitor speak and timorously confess +The manner and the purpose of his treasons, +That you might well have signified the same +Unto the citizens, who haply may +Misconster us in him, and wail his death. + +MAYOR +But, my good lord, your Graces' words shall serve +As well as I had seen and heard him speak; +And do not doubt, right noble princes both, +But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens +With all your just proceedings in this case. + +RICHARD +And to that end we wished your Lordship here, +T' avoid the censures of the carping world. + +BUCKINGHAM +Which since you come too late of our intent, +Yet witness what you hear we did intend. +And so, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewell. +[Mayor exits.] + +RICHARD +Go after, after, cousin Buckingham. +The Mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post. +There, at your meetest vantage of the time, +Infer the bastardy of Edward's children. +Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen +Only for saying he would make his son +Heir to the Crown--meaning indeed his house, +Which, by the sign thereof, was termed so. +Moreover, urge his hateful luxury +And bestial appetite in change of lust, +Which stretched unto their servants, daughters, +wives, +Even where his raging eye or savage heart, +Without control, lusted to make a prey. +Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person: +Tell them when that my mother went with child +Of that insatiate Edward, noble York +My princely father then had wars in France, +And, by true computation of the time, +Found that the issue was not his begot, +Which well appeared in his lineaments, +Being nothing like the noble duke my father. +Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off, +Because, my lord, you know my mother lives. + +BUCKINGHAM +Doubt not, my lord. I'll play the orator +As if the golden fee for which I plead +Were for myself. And so, my lord, adieu. + +RICHARD +If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle, +Where you shall find me well accompanied +With reverend fathers and well-learned bishops. + +BUCKINGHAM +I go; and towards three or four o'clock +Look for the news that the Guildhall affords. +[Buckingham exits.] + +RICHARD +Go, Lovell, with all speed to Doctor Shaa. +[To Ratcliffe.] Go thou to Friar Penker. Bid them +both +Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle. +[Ratcliffe and Lovell exit.] +Now will I go to take some privy order +To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight, +And to give order that no manner person +Have any time recourse unto the Princes. +[He exits.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter a Scrivener.] + + +SCRIVENER +Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings, +Which in a set hand fairly is engrossed, +That it may be today read o'er in Paul's. +And mark how well the sequel hangs together: +Eleven hours I have spent to write it over, +For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me; +The precedent was full as long a-doing, +And yet within these five hours Hastings lived, +Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty. +Here's a good world the while! Who is so gross +That cannot see this palpable device? +Yet who so bold but says he sees it not? +Bad is the world, and all will come to naught +When such ill dealing must be seen in thought. +[He exits.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Richard and Buckingham at several doors.] + + +RICHARD +How now, how now? What say the citizens? + +BUCKINGHAM +Now, by the holy mother of our Lord, +The citizens are mum, say not a word. + +RICHARD +Touched you the bastardy of Edward's children? + +BUCKINGHAM +I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy +And his contract by deputy in France; +Th' unsatiate greediness of his desire +And his enforcement of the city wives; +His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy, +As being got, your father then in France, +And his resemblance being not like the Duke. +Withal, I did infer your lineaments, +Being the right idea of your father, +Both in your form and nobleness of mind; +Laid open all your victories in Scotland, +Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, +Your bounty, virtue, fair humility; +Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose +Untouched or slightly handled in discourse. +And when mine oratory drew toward end, +I bid them that did love their country's good +Cry "God save Richard, England's royal king!" + +RICHARD And did they so? + +BUCKINGHAM +No. So God help me, they spake not a word +But, like dumb statues or breathing stones, +Stared each on other and looked deadly pale; +Which when I saw, I reprehended them +And asked the Mayor what meant this willful silence. +His answer was, the people were not used +To be spoke to but by the Recorder. +Then he was urged to tell my tale again: +"Thus saith the Duke. Thus hath the Duke +inferred"-- +But nothing spoke in warrant from himself. +When he had done, some followers of mine own, +At lower end of the hall, hurled up their caps, +And some ten voices cried "God save King Richard!" +And thus I took the vantage of those few. +"Thanks, gentle citizens and friends," quoth I. +"This general applause and cheerful shout +Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard"-- +And even here brake off and came away. + +RICHARD +What tongueless blocks were they! Would they not +speak? +Will not the Mayor then and his brethren come? + +BUCKINGHAM +The Mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear; +Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit. +And look you get a prayer book in your hand +And stand between two churchmen, good my lord, +For on that ground I'll make a holy descant. +And be not easily won to our requests. +Play the maid's part: still answer "nay," and take it. + +RICHARD +I go. An if you plead as well for them +As I can say "nay" to thee for myself, +No doubt we bring it to a happy issue. +[Knocking within.] + +BUCKINGHAM +Go, go, up to the leads. The Lord Mayor knocks. +[Richard exits.] + +[Enter the Mayor and Citizens.] + +Welcome, my lord. I dance attendance here. +I think the Duke will not be spoke withal. + +[Enter Catesby.] + +Now, Catesby, what says your lord to my request? + +CATESBY +He doth entreat your Grace, my noble lord, +To visit him tomorrow or next day. +He is within, with two right reverend fathers, +Divinely bent to meditation, +And in no worldly suits would he be moved +To draw him from his holy exercise. + +BUCKINGHAM +Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke. +Tell him myself, the Mayor, and aldermen, +In deep designs, in matter of great moment +No less importing than our general good, +Are come to have some conference with his Grace. + +CATESBY +I'll signify so much unto him straight. [He exits.] + +BUCKINGHAM +Ah ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward! +He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed, +But on his knees at meditation; +Not dallying with a brace of courtesans, +But meditating with two deep divines; +Not sleeping, to engross his idle body, +But praying, to enrich his watchful soul. +Happy were England would this virtuous prince +Take on his Grace the sovereignty thereof. +But sure I fear we shall not win him to it. + +MAYOR +Marry, God defend his Grace should say us nay. + +BUCKINGHAM +I fear he will. Here Catesby comes again. + +[Enter Catesby.] + +Now, Catesby, what says his Grace? + +CATESBY +He wonders to what end you have assembled +Such troops of citizens to come to him, +His Grace not being warned thereof before. +He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sorry I am my noble cousin should +Suspect me that I mean no good to him. +By heaven, we come to him in perfect love, +And so once more return and tell his Grace. +[Catesby exits.] +When holy and devout religious men +Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence, +So sweet is zealous contemplation. + +[Enter Richard aloft, between two Bishops.] +[Catesby reenters.] + + +MAYOR +See where his Grace stands, 'tween two clergymen. + +BUCKINGHAM +Two props of virtue for a Christian prince, +To stay him from the fall of vanity; +And, see, a book of prayer in his hand, +True ornaments to know a holy man.-- +Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince, +Lend favorable ear to our requests, +And pardon us the interruption +Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal. + +RICHARD +My lord, there needs no such apology. +I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, +Who, earnest in the service of my God, +Deferred the visitation of my friends. +But, leaving this, what is your Grace's pleasure? + +BUCKINGHAM +Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above +And all good men of this ungoverned isle. + +RICHARD +I do suspect I have done some offense +That seems disgracious in the city's eye, +And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. + +BUCKINGHAM +You have, my lord. Would it might please your +Grace, +On our entreaties, to amend your fault. + +RICHARD +Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land? + +BUCKINGHAM +Know, then, it is your fault that you resign +The supreme seat, the throne majestical, +The sceptered office of your ancestors, +Your state of fortune, and your due of birth, +The lineal glory of your royal house, +To the corruption of a blemished stock, +Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts, +Which here we waken to our country's good, +The noble isle doth want her proper limbs-- +Her face defaced with scars of infamy, +Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants, +And almost shouldered in the swallowing gulf +Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion; +Which to recure, we heartily solicit +Your gracious self to take on you the charge +And kingly government of this your land, +Not as Protector, steward, substitute, +Or lowly factor for another's gain, +But as successively, from blood to blood, +Your right of birth, your empery, your own. +For this, consorted with the citizens, +Your very worshipful and loving friends, +And by their vehement instigation, +In this just cause come I to move your Grace. + +RICHARD +I cannot tell if to depart in silence +Or bitterly to speak in your reproof +Best fitteth my degree or your condition. +If not to answer, you might haply think +Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded +To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty, +Which fondly you would here impose on me. +If to reprove you for this suit of yours, +So seasoned with your faithful love to me, +Then on the other side I checked my friends. +Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first, +And then, in speaking, not to incur the last, +Definitively thus I answer you: +Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert +Unmeritable shuns your high request. +First, if all obstacles were cut away +And that my path were even to the crown +As the ripe revenue and due of birth, +Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, +So mighty and so many my defects, +That I would rather hide me from my greatness, +Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, +Than in my greatness covet to be hid +And in the vapor of my glory smothered. +But, God be thanked, there is no need of me, +And much I need to help you, were there need. +The royal tree hath left us royal fruit, +Which, mellowed by the stealing hours of time, +Will well become the seat of majesty, +And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign. +On him I lay that you would lay on me, +The right and fortune of his happy stars, +Which God defend that I should wring from him. + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, this argues conscience in your Grace, +But the respects thereof are nice and trivial, +All circumstances well considered. +You say that Edward is your brother's son; +So say we too, but not by Edward's wife. +For first was he contract to Lady Lucy-- +Your mother lives a witness to his vow-- +And afterward by substitute betrothed +To Bona, sister to the King of France. +These both put off, a poor petitioner, +A care-crazed mother to a many sons, +A beauty-waning and distressed widow, +Even in the afternoon of her best days, +Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye, +Seduced the pitch and height of his degree +To base declension and loathed bigamy. +By her in his unlawful bed he got +This Edward, whom our manners call "the Prince." +More bitterly could I expostulate, +Save that, for reverence to some alive, +I give a sparing limit to my tongue. +Then, good my lord, take to your royal self +This proffered benefit of dignity, +If not to bless us and the land withal, +Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry +From the corruption of abusing times +Unto a lineal, true-derived course. + +MAYOR +Do, good my lord. Your citizens entreat you. + +BUCKINGHAM +Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffered love. + +CATESBY +O, make them joyful. Grant their lawful suit. + +RICHARD +Alas, why would you heap this care on me? +I am unfit for state and majesty. +I do beseech you, take it not amiss; +I cannot, nor I will not, yield to you. + +BUCKINGHAM +If you refuse it, as in love and zeal +Loath to depose the child, your brother's son-- +As well we know your tenderness of heart +And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse, +Which we have noted in you to your kindred +And equally indeed to all estates-- +Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no, +Your brother's son shall never reign our king, +But we will plant some other in the throne, +To the disgrace and downfall of your house. +And in this resolution here we leave you.-- +Come, citizens. Zounds, I'll entreat no more. + +RICHARD +O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham! +[Buckingham and some others exit.] + +CATESBY +Call him again, sweet prince. Accept their suit. +If you deny them, all the land will rue it. + +RICHARD +Will you enforce me to a world of cares? +Call them again. I am not made of stones, +But penetrable to your kind entreaties, +Albeit against my conscience and my soul. + +[Enter Buckingham and the rest.] + +Cousin of Buckingham and sage, grave men, +Since you will buckle Fortune on my back, +To bear her burden, whe'er I will or no, +I must have patience to endure the load; +But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach +Attend the sequel of your imposition, +Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me +From all the impure blots and stains thereof, +For God doth know, and you may partly see, +How far I am from the desire of this. + +MAYOR +God bless your Grace! We see it and will say it. + +RICHARD +In saying so, you shall but say the truth. + +BUCKINGHAM +Then I salute you with this royal title: +Long live Richard, England's worthy king! + +ALL Amen. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tomorrow may it please you to be crowned? + +RICHARD +Even when you please, for you will have it so. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tomorrow, then, we will attend your Grace, +And so most joyfully we take our leave. + +RICHARD, [to the Bishops] +Come, let us to our holy work again.-- +Farewell, my cousin. Farewell, gentle friends. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Queen Elizabeth, with the Duchess of York, and +the Lord Marquess of Dorset, at one door; Anne, +Duchess of Gloucester with Clarence's daughter, at +another door.] + + +DUCHESS +Who meets us here? My niece Plantagenet +Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester? +Now, for my life, she's wandering to the Tower, +On pure heart's love, to greet the tender prince.-- +Daughter, well met. + +ANNE God give your Graces both +A happy and a joyful time of day. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As much to you, good sister. Whither away? + +ANNE +No farther than the Tower, and, as I guess, +Upon the like devotion as yourselves, +To gratulate the gentle princes there. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Kind sister, thanks. We'll enter all together. + +[Enter Brakenbury, the Lieutenant.] + +And in good time here the Lieutenant comes.-- +Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave, +How doth the Prince and my young son of York? + +BRAKENBURY +Right well, dear madam. By your patience, +I may not suffer you to visit them. +The King hath strictly charged the contrary. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The King? Who's that? + +BRAKENBURY I mean, the Lord Protector. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Lord protect him from that kingly title! +Hath he set bounds between their love and me? +I am their mother. Who shall bar me from them? + +DUCHESS +I am their father's mother. I will see them. + +ANNE +Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother. +Then bring me to their sights. I'll bear thy blame +And take thy office from thee, on my peril. + +BRAKENBURY +No, madam, no. I may not leave it so. +I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me. +[Brakenbury the Lieutenant exits.] + +[Enter Stanley.] + + +STANLEY +Let me but meet you ladies one hour hence, +And I'll salute your Grace of York as mother +And reverend looker-on of two fair queens. +[To Anne.] Come, madam, you must straight to +Westminster, +There to be crowned Richard's royal queen. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH Ah, cut my lace asunder +That my pent heart may have some scope to beat, +Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news! + +ANNE +Despiteful tidings! O, unpleasing news! + +DORSET, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Be of good cheer, mother. How fares your Grace? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +O Dorset, speak not to me. Get thee gone. +Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels. +Thy mother's name is ominous to children. +If thou wilt outstrip death, go, cross the seas, +And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell. +Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughterhouse, +Lest thou increase the number of the dead +And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, +Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen. + +STANLEY +Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam. +[To Dorset.] Take all the swift advantage of the +hours. +You shall have letters from me to my son +In your behalf, to meet you on the way. +Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay. + +DUCHESS +O ill-dispersing wind of misery! +O my accursed womb, the bed of death! +A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world, +Whose unavoided eye is murderous. + +STANLEY, [to Anne] +Come, madam, come. I in all haste was sent. + +ANNE +And I with all unwillingness will go. +O, would to God that the inclusive verge +Of golden metal that must round my brow +Were red-hot steel to sear me to the brains! +Anointed let me be with deadly venom, +And die ere men can say "God save the Queen." + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory. +To feed my humor, wish thyself no harm. + +ANNE +No? Why? When he that is my husband now +Came to me as I followed Henry's corse, +When scarce the blood was well washed from his +hands +Which issued from my other angel husband +And that dear saint which then I weeping followed-- +O, when, I say, I looked on Richard's face, +This was my wish: be thou, quoth I, accursed +For making me, so young, so old a widow; +And, when thou wedd'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed; +And be thy wife, if any be so mad, +More miserable by the life of thee +Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death. +Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again, +Within so small a time my woman's heart +Grossly grew captive to his honey words +And proved the subject of mine own soul's curse, +Which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest, +For never yet one hour in his bed +Did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep, +But with his timorous dreams was still awaked. +Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick, +And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Poor heart, adieu. I pity thy complaining. + +ANNE +No more than with my soul I mourn for yours. + +DORSET +Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of glory. + +ANNE +Adieu, poor soul that tak'st thy leave of it. + +DUCHESS, [to Dorset] +Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee. +[To Anne.] Go thou to Richard, and good angels +tend thee. +[To Queen Elizabeth.] Go thou to sanctuary, and +good thoughts possess thee. +I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me. +Eighty-odd years of sorrow have I seen, +And each hour's joy wracked with a week of teen. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.-- +Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes +Whom envy hath immured within your walls-- +Rough cradle for such little pretty ones. +Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow +For tender princes, use my babies well. +So foolish sorrows bids your stones farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Sound a sennet. Enter Richard in pomp; Buckingham, +Catesby, Ratcliffe, Lovell, and others, including a Page.] + + +RICHARD +Stand all apart.--Cousin of Buckingham. +[The others move aside.] + +BUCKINGHAM My gracious sovereign. + +RICHARD +Give me thy hand. +[Here he ascendeth the throne. Sound trumpets.] +Thus high, by thy advice +And thy assistance is King Richard seated. +But shall we wear these glories for a day, +Or shall they last and we rejoice in them? + +BUCKINGHAM +Still live they, and forever let them last. + +RICHARD +Ah, Buckingham, now do I play the touch, +To try if thou be current gold indeed: +Young Edward lives; think now what I would speak. + +BUCKINGHAM Say on, my loving lord. + +RICHARD +Why, Buckingham, I say I would be king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why so you are, my thrice-renowned lord. + +RICHARD +Ha! Am I king? 'Tis so--but Edward lives. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, noble prince. + +RICHARD O bitter consequence +That Edward still should live "true noble prince"! +Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull. +Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead, +And I would have it suddenly performed. +What sayst thou now? Speak suddenly. Be brief. + +BUCKINGHAM Your Grace may do your pleasure. + +RICHARD +Tut, tut, thou art all ice; thy kindness freezes. +Say, have I thy consent that they shall die? + +BUCKINGHAM +Give me some little breath, some pause, dear lord, +Before I positively speak in this. +I will resolve you herein presently. +[Buckingham exits.] + +CATESBY, [aside to the other Attendants] +The King is angry. See, he gnaws his lip. + +RICHARD, [aside] +I will converse with iron-witted fools +And unrespective boys. None are for me +That look into me with considerate eyes. +High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.-- +Boy! + +PAGE, [coming forward] My lord? + +RICHARD +Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold +Will tempt unto a close exploit of death? + +PAGE +I know a discontented gentleman +Whose humble means match not his haughty spirit. +Gold were as good as twenty orators, +And will, no doubt, tempt him to anything. + +RICHARD +What is his name? + +PAGE His name, my lord, is Tyrrel. + +RICHARD +I partly know the man. Go, call him hither, boy. +[Page exits.] +[Aside.] The deep-revolving witty Buckingham +No more shall be the neighbor to my counsels. +Hath he so long held out with me, untired, +And stops he now for breath? Well, be it so. + +[Enter Stanley.] + +How now, Lord Stanley, what's the news? + +STANLEY Know, my loving lord, +The Marquess Dorset, as I hear, is fled +To Richmond, in the parts where he abides. +[He walks aside.] + +RICHARD +Come hither, Catesby. Rumor it abroad +That Anne my wife is very grievous sick. +I will take order for her keeping close. +Inquire me out some mean poor gentleman, +Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter. +The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. +Look how thou dream'st! I say again, give out +That Anne my queen is sick and like to die. +About it, for it stands me much upon +To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. +[Catesby exits.] +[Aside.] I must be married to my brother's daughter, +Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. +Murder her brothers, and then marry her-- +Uncertain way of gain. But I am in +So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin. +Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. + +[Enter Tyrrel.] + +Is thy name Tyrrel? + +TYRREL +James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. + +RICHARD +Art thou indeed? + +TYRREL Prove me, my gracious lord. + +RICHARD +Dar'st thou resolve to kill a friend of mine? + +TYRREL +Please you. But I had rather kill two enemies. + +RICHARD +Why then, thou hast it. Two deep enemies, +Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, +Are they that I would have thee deal upon. +Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower. + +TYRREL +Let me have open means to come to them, +And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them. + +RICHARD +Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel. +[Tyrrel approaches Richard and kneels.] +Go, by this token. Rise, and lend thine ear. +[Tyrrel rises, and Richard whispers +to him. Then Tyrrel steps back.] +There is no more but so. Say it is done, +And I will love thee and prefer thee for it. + +TYRREL I will dispatch it straight. [He exits.] + +[Enter Buckingham.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, I have considered in my mind +The late request that you did sound me in. + +RICHARD +Well, let that rest. Dorset is fled to Richmond. + +BUCKINGHAM I hear the news, my lord. + +RICHARD +Stanley, he is your wife's son. Well, look unto it. + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, I claim the gift, my due by promise, +For which your honor and your faith is pawned-- +Th' earldom of Hereford and the movables +Which you have promised I shall possess. + +RICHARD +Stanley, look to your wife. If she convey +Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. + +BUCKINGHAM +What says your Highness to my just request? + +RICHARD +I do remember me, Henry the Sixth +Did prophesy that Richmond should be king, +When Richmond was a little peevish boy. +A king perhaps-- + +BUCKINGHAM My lord-- + +RICHARD +How chance the prophet could not at that time +Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him? + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, your promise for the earldom-- + +RICHARD +Richmond! When last I was at Exeter, +The Mayor in courtesy showed me the castle +And called it Rougemont, at which name I started, +Because a bard of Ireland told me once +I should not live long after I saw Richmond. + +BUCKINGHAM My lord-- + +RICHARD Ay, what's o'clock? + +BUCKINGHAM +I am thus bold to put your Grace in mind +Of what you promised me. + +RICHARD Well, but what's o'clock? + +BUCKINGHAM Upon the stroke of ten. + +RICHARD Well, let it strike. + +BUCKINGHAM Why let it strike? + +RICHARD +Because that, like a jack, thou keep'st the stroke +Betwixt thy begging and my meditation. +I am not in the giving vein today. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why then, resolve me whether you will or no. + +RICHARD +Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. +[He exits, and is followed by all but Buckingham.] + +BUCKINGHAM +And is it thus? Repays he my deep service +With such contempt? Made I him king for this? +O, let me think on Hastings and be gone +To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Tyrrel.] + + +TYRREL +The tyrannous and bloody act is done, +The most arch deed of piteous massacre +That ever yet this land was guilty of. +Dighton and Forrest, who I did suborn +To do this piece of ruthless butchery, +Albeit they were fleshed villains, bloody dogs, +Melted with tenderness and mild compassion, +Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story. +"O thus," quoth Dighton, "lay the gentle babes." +"Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, "girdling one another +Within their alabaster innocent arms. +Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, +And in their summer beauty kissed each other. +A book of prayers on their pillow lay, +Which once," quoth Forrest, "almost changed my +mind, +But, O, the devil--" There the villain stopped; +When Dighton thus told on: "We smothered +The most replenished sweet work of nature +That from the prime creation e'er she framed." +Hence both are gone with conscience and remorse; +They could not speak; and so I left them both +To bear this tidings to the bloody king. + +[Enter Richard.] + +And here he comes.--All health, my sovereign lord. + +RICHARD +Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news? + +TYRREL +If to have done the thing you gave in charge +Beget your happiness, be happy then, +For it is done. + +RICHARD But did'st thou see them dead? + +TYRREL +I did, my lord. + +RICHARD And buried, gentle Tyrrel? + +TYRREL +The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them, +But where, to say the truth, I do not know. + +RICHARD +Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after-supper, +When thou shalt tell the process of their death. +Meantime, but think how I may do thee good, +And be inheritor of thy desire. +Farewell till then. + +TYRREL I humbly take my leave. +[Tyrrel exits.] + +RICHARD +The son of Clarence have I pent up close, +His daughter meanly have I matched in marriage, +The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, +And Anne my wife hath bid this world goodnight. +Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims +At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter, +And by that knot looks proudly on the crown, +To her go I, a jolly thriving wooer. + +[Enter Ratcliffe.] + + +RATCLIFFE My lord. + +RICHARD +Good or bad news, that thou com'st in so bluntly? + +RATCLIFFE +Bad news, my lord. Morton is fled to Richmond, +And Buckingham, backed with the hardy Welshmen, +Is in the field, and still his power increaseth. + +RICHARD +Ely with Richmond troubles me more near +Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. +Come, I have learned that fearful commenting +Is leaden servitor to dull delay; +Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary; +Then fiery expedition be my wing, +Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king. +Go, muster men. My counsel is my shield. +We must be brief when traitors brave the field. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter old Queen Margaret.] + + +QUEEN MARGARET +So now prosperity begins to mellow +And drop into the rotten mouth of death. +Here in these confines slyly have I lurked +To watch the waning of mine enemies. +A dire induction am I witness to, +And will to France, hoping the consequence +Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical. +Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret. Who comes +here? [She steps aside.] + +[Enter Duchess of York and Queen Elizabeth.] + + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Ah, my poor princes! Ah, my tender babes, +My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets, +If yet your gentle souls fly in the air +And be not fixed in doom perpetual, +Hover about me with your airy wings +And hear your mother's lamentation. + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Hover about her; say that right for right +Hath dimmed your infant morn to aged night. + +DUCHESS +So many miseries have crazed my voice +That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. +Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet; +Edward for Edward pays a dying debt. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs +And throw them in the entrails of the wolf? +When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done? + +QUEEN MARGARET, [aside] +When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. + +DUCHESS, [to Queen Elizabeth] +Dead life, blind sight, poor mortal living ghost, +Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life +usurped, +Brief abstract and record of tedious days, +Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth, +Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [as they both sit down] +Ah, that thou wouldst as soon afford a grave +As thou canst yield a melancholy seat, +Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here. +Ah, who hath any cause to mourn but we? + +QUEEN MARGARET, [coming forward] +If ancient sorrow be most reverend, +Give mine the benefit of seigniory, +And let my griefs frown on the upper hand. +If sorrow can admit society, +Tell over your woes again by viewing mine. +I had an Edward till a Richard killed him; +I had a husband till a Richard killed him. +Thou hadst an Edward till a Richard killed him; +Thou hadst a Richard till a Richard killed him. + +DUCHESS +I had a Richard too, and thou did'st kill him; +I had a Rutland too; thou holp'st to kill him. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard killed him. +From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept +A hellhound that doth hunt us all to death-- +That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes, +To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood; +That excellent grand tyrant of the Earth, +That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls; +That foul defacer of God's handiwork +Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves. +O upright, just, and true-disposing God, +How do I thank thee that this carnal cur +Preys on the issue of his mother's body +And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan! + +DUCHESS, [standing] +O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes! +God witness with me, I have wept for thine. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Bear with me. I am hungry for revenge, +And now I cloy me with beholding it. +Thy Edward he is dead, that killed my Edward, +Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward; +Young York, he is but boot, because both they +Matched not the high perfection of my loss. +Thy Clarence he is dead that stabbed my Edward, +And the beholders of this frantic play, +Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, +Untimely smothered in their dusky graves. +Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer, +Only reserved their factor to buy souls +And send them thither. But at hand, at hand +Ensues his piteous and unpitied end. +Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, +To have him suddenly conveyed from hence. +Cancel his bond of life, dear God I pray, +That I may live and say "The dog is dead." + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [standing] +O, thou didst prophesy the time would come +That I should wish for thee to help me curse +That bottled spider, that foul bunch-backed toad! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I called thee then "vain flourish of my fortune." +I called thee then poor shadow, "painted queen," +The presentation of but what I was, +The flattering index of a direful pageant, +One heaved a-high to be hurled down below, +A mother only mocked with two fair babes, +A dream of what thou wast, a garish flag +To be the aim of every dangerous shot, +A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble, +A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. +Where is thy husband now? Where be thy brothers? +Where are thy two sons? Wherein dost thou joy? +Who sues and kneels and says "God save the +Queen?" +Where be the bending peers that flattered thee? +Where be the thronging troops that followed thee? +Decline all this, and see what now thou art: +For happy wife, a most distressed widow; +For joyful mother, one that wails the name; +For one being sued to, one that humbly sues; +For queen, a very caitiff crowned with care; +For she that scorned at me, now scorned of me; +For she being feared of all, now fearing one; +For she commanding all, obeyed of none. +Thus hath the course of justice whirled about +And left thee but a very prey to time, +Having no more but thought of what thou wast +To torture thee the more, being what thou art. +Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not +Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow? +Now thy proud neck bears half my burdened yoke, +From which even here I slip my weary head +And leave the burden of it all on thee. +Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance. +These English woes shall make me smile in France. +[She begins to exit.] + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +O, thou well-skilled in curses, stay awhile, +And teach me how to curse mine enemies. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days; +Compare dead happiness with living woe; +Think that thy babes were sweeter than they were, +And he that slew them fouler than he is. +Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse. +Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My words are dull. O, quicken them with thine! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thy woes will make them sharp and pierce like +mine. [Margaret exits.] + +DUCHESS +Why should calamity be full of words? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Windy attorneys to their clients' woes, +Airy succeeders of intestate joys, +Poor breathing orators of miseries, +Let them have scope; though what they will impart +Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. + +DUCHESS +If so, then be not tongue-tied. Go with me, +And in the breath of bitter words let's smother +My damned son that thy two sweet sons smothered. +[A trumpet sounds.] +[The trumpet sounds.] Be copious in exclaims. + + [Enter King Richard and his train, including Catesby.] + + +RICHARD +Who intercepts me in my expedition? + +DUCHESS +O, she that might have intercepted thee, +By strangling thee in her accursed womb, +From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [to Richard] +Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden crown +Where should be branded, if that right were right, +The slaughter of the prince that owed that crown +And the dire death of my poor sons and brothers? +Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children? + +DUCHESS, [to Richard] +Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence, +And little Ned Plantagenet his son? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH, [to Richard] +Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Grey? + +DUCHESS, [to Richard] Where is kind Hastings? + +RICHARD +A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums! +Let not the heavens hear these telltale women +Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say! +[Flourish. Alarums.] +Either be patient and entreat me fair, +Or with the clamorous report of war +Thus will I drown your exclamations. + +DUCHESS Art thou my son? + +RICHARD +Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. + +DUCHESS +Then patiently hear my impatience. + +RICHARD +Madam, I have a touch of your condition, +That cannot brook the accent of reproof. + +DUCHESS +O, let me speak! + +RICHARD Do then, but I'll not hear. + +DUCHESS +I will be mild and gentle in my words. + +RICHARD +And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. + +DUCHESS +Art thou so hasty? I have stayed for thee, +God knows, in torment and in agony. + +RICHARD +And came I not at last to comfort you? + +DUCHESS +No, by the Holy Rood, thou know'st it well. +Thou cam'st on Earth to make the Earth my hell. +A grievous burden was thy birth to me; +Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; +Thy school days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and +furious; +Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; +Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, +More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred. +What comfortable hour canst thou name, +That ever graced me with thy company? + +RICHARD +Faith, none but Humfrey Hower, that called your +Grace +To breakfast once, forth of my company. +If I be so disgracious in your eye, +Let me march on and not offend you, madam.-- +Strike up the drum. + +DUCHESS I prithee, hear me speak. + +RICHARD +You speak too bitterly. + +DUCHESS Hear me a word, +For I shall never speak to thee again. + +RICHARD So. + +DUCHESS +Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance +Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror, +Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish +And nevermore behold thy face again. +Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse, +Which in the day of battle tire thee more +Than all the complete armor that thou wear'st. +My prayers on the adverse party fight, +And there the little souls of Edward's children +Whisper the spirits of thine enemies +And promise them success and victory. +Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end. +Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend. +[She exits.] + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to +curse +Abides in me. I say amen to her. + +RICHARD +Stay, madam. I must talk a word with you. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I have no more sons of the royal blood +For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard, +They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens, +And therefore level not to hit their lives. + +RICHARD +You have a daughter called Elizabeth, +Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +And must she die for this? O, let her live, +And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty, +Slander myself as false to Edward's bed, +Throw over her the veil of infamy. +So she may live unscarred of bleeding slaughter, +I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. + +RICHARD +Wrong not her birth. She is a royal princess. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To save her life, I'll say she is not so. + +RICHARD +Her life is safest only in her birth. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +And only in that safety died her brothers. + +RICHARD +Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +No, to their lives ill friends were contrary. + +RICHARD +All unavoided is the doom of destiny. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +True, when avoided grace makes destiny. +My babes were destined to a fairer death +If grace had blessed thee with a fairer life. + +RICHARD +You speak as if that I had slain my cousins. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Cousins, indeed, and by their uncle cozened +Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. +Whose hand soever launched their tender hearts, +Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction. +No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt +Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart, +To revel in the entrails of my lambs. +But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame, +My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys +Till that my nails were anchored in thine eyes, +And I, in such a desp'rate bay of death, +Like a poor bark of sails and tackling reft, +Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom. + +RICHARD +Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise +And dangerous success of bloody wars +As I intend more good to you and yours +Than ever you or yours by me were harmed! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What good is covered with the face of heaven, +To be discovered, that can do me good? + +RICHARD +Th' advancement of your children, gentle lady. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads. + +RICHARD +Unto the dignity and height of fortune, +The high imperial type of this Earth's glory. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Flatter my sorrow with report of it. +Tell me what state, what dignity, what honor, +Canst thou demise to any child of mine? + +RICHARD +Even all I have--ay, and myself and all-- +Will I withal endow a child of thine; +So in the Lethe of thy angry soul +Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs +Which thou supposest I have done to thee. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness +Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. + +RICHARD +Then know that from my soul I love thy daughter. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul. + +RICHARD What do you think? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul. +So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers, +And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. + +RICHARD +Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. +I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter +And do intend to make her Queen of England. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Well then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? + +RICHARD +Even he that makes her queen. Who else should be? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What, thou? + +RICHARD Even so. How think you of it? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +How canst thou woo her? + +RICHARD That would I learn of you, +As one being best acquainted with her humor. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH And wilt thou learn of me? + +RICHARD Madam, with all my heart. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers, +A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave +"Edward" and "York." Then haply will she weep. +Therefore present to her--as sometime Margaret +Did to thy father, steeped in Rutland's blood-- +A handkerchief, which say to her did drain +The purple sap from her sweet brother's body, +And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. +If this inducement move her not to love, +Send her a letter of thy noble deeds; +Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence, +Her uncle Rivers, ay, and for her sake +Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. + +RICHARD +You mock me, madam. This is not the way +To win your daughter. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH There is no other way, +Unless thou couldst put on some other shape +And not be Richard, that hath done all this. + +RICHARD +Say that I did all this for love of her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee, +Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. + +RICHARD +Look what is done cannot be now amended. +Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, +Which after-hours gives leisure to repent. +If I did take the kingdom from your sons, +To make amends I'll give it to your daughter. +If I have killed the issue of your womb, +To quicken your increase I will beget +Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. +A grandam's name is little less in love +Than is the doting title of a mother. +They are as children but one step below, +Even of your metal, of your very blood, +Of all one pain, save for a night of groans +Endured of her for whom you bid like sorrow. +Your children were vexation to your youth, +But mine shall be a comfort to your age. +The loss you have is but a son being king, +And by that loss your daughter is made queen. +I cannot make you what amends I would; +Therefore accept such kindness as I can. +Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul +Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, +This fair alliance quickly shall call home +To high promotions and great dignity. +The king that calls your beauteous daughter wife +Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother. +Again shall you be mother to a king, +And all the ruins of distressful times +Repaired with double riches of content. +What, we have many goodly days to see! +The liquid drops of tears that you have shed +Shall come again, transformed to orient pearl, +Advantaging their love with interest +Of ten times double gain of happiness. +Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go. +Make bold her bashful years with your experience; +Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale; +Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame +Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princess +With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys; +And when this arm of mine hath chastised +The petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham, +Bound with triumphant garlands will I come +And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed, +To whom I will retail my conquest won, +And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What were I best to say? Her father's brother +Would be her lord? Or shall I say her uncle? +Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles? +Under what title shall I woo for thee, +That God, the law, my honor, and her love +Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? + +RICHARD +Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Which she shall purchase with still-lasting war. + +RICHARD +Tell her the King, that may command, entreats-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +That, at her hands, which the King's King forbids. + +RICHARD +Say she shall be a high and mighty queen. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To vail the title, as her mother doth. + +RICHARD +Say I will love her everlastingly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +But how long shall that title "ever" last? + +RICHARD +Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? + +RICHARD +As long as heaven and nature lengthens it. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As long as hell and Richard likes of it. + +RICHARD +Say I, her sovereign, am her subject low. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty. + +RICHARD +Be eloquent in my behalf to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +An honest tale speeds best being plainly told. + +RICHARD +Then plainly to her tell my loving tale. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Plain and not honest is too harsh a style. + +RICHARD +Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +O no, my reasons are too deep and dead-- +Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. + +RICHARD +Harp not on that string, madam; that is past. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break. + +RICHARD +Now by my George, my Garter, and my crown-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Profaned, dishonored, and the third usurped. + +RICHARD +I swear-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH By nothing, for this is no oath. +Thy George, profaned, hath lost his lordly honor; +Thy Garter, blemished, pawned his knightly virtue; +Thy crown, usurped, disgraced his kingly glory. +If something thou wouldst swear to be believed, +Swear then by something that thou hast not +wronged. + +RICHARD +Then, by myself-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH Thyself is self-misused. + +RICHARD +Now, by the world-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. + +RICHARD +My father's death-- + +QUEEN ELIZABETH Thy life hath it dishonored. + +RICHARD +Why then, by God. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH God's wrong is most of all. +If thou didst fear to break an oath with Him, +The unity the King my husband made +Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died. +If thou hadst feared to break an oath by Him, +Th' imperial metal circling now thy head +Had graced the tender temples of my child, +And both the Princes had been breathing here, +Which now, two tender bedfellows for dust, +Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms. +What canst thou swear by now? + +RICHARD The time to come. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast; +For I myself have many tears to wash +Hereafter time, for time past wronged by thee. +The children live whose fathers thou hast +slaughtered, +Ungoverned youth, to wail it in their age; +The parents live whose children thou hast +butchered, +Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. +Swear not by time to come, for that thou hast +Misused ere used, by times ill-used o'erpast. + +RICHARD +As I intend to prosper and repent, +So thrive I in my dangerous affairs +Of hostile arms! Myself myself confound, +Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours, +Day, yield me not thy light, nor night thy rest, +Be opposite all planets of good luck +To my proceeding if, with dear heart's love, +Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, +I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter. +In her consists my happiness and thine. +Without her follows to myself and thee, +Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul, +Death, desolation, ruin, and decay. +It cannot be avoided but by this; +It will not be avoided but by this. +Therefore, dear mother--I must call you so-- +Be the attorney of my love to her; +Plead what I will be, not what I have been; +Not my deserts, but what I will deserve. +Urge the necessity and state of times, +And be not peevish found in great designs. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? + +RICHARD +Ay, if the devil tempt you to do good. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Shall I forget myself to be myself? + +RICHARD +Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong yourself. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH Yet thou didst kill my children. + +RICHARD +But in your daughter's womb I bury them, +Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed +Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? + +RICHARD +And be a happy mother by the deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH I go. Write to me very shortly, +And you shall understand from me her mind. + +RICHARD +Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell. +[Queen exits.] +Relenting fool and shallow, changing woman! + +[Enter Ratcliffe.] + +How now, what news? + +RATCLIFFE +Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast +Rideth a puissant navy. To our shores +Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, +Unarmed and unresolved to beat them back. +'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral; +And there they hull, expecting but the aid +Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. + +RICHARD +Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of +Norfolk-- +Ratcliffe thyself, or Catesby. Where is he? + +CATESBY +Here, my good lord. + +RICHARD Catesby, fly to the Duke. + +CATESBY +I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. + +RICHARD +Ratcliffe, come hither. Post to Salisbury.When thou com'st thither--[To Catesby.] Dull, +unmindful villain, +Why stay'st thou here and go'st not to the Duke? + +CATESBY +First, mighty liege, tell me your Highness' pleasure, +What from your Grace I shall deliver to him. + +RICHARD +O true, good Catesby. Bid him levy straight +The greatest strength and power that he can make +And meet me suddenly at Salisbury. + +CATESBY I go. [He exits.] + +RATCLIFFE +What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury? + +RICHARD +Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go? + +RATCLIFFE +Your Highness told me I should post before. + +RICHARD +My mind is changed. + +[Enter Lord Stanley.] + +Stanley, what news with you? + +STANLEY +None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing, +Nor none so bad but well may be reported. + +RICHARD +Hoyday, a riddle! Neither good nor bad. +What need'st thou run so many miles about +When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way? +Once more, what news? + +STANLEY Richmond is on the seas. + +RICHARD +There let him sink, and be the seas on him! +White-livered runagate, what doth he there? + +STANLEY +I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. + +RICHARD Well, as you guess? + +STANLEY +Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, +He makes for England, here to claim the crown. + +RICHARD +Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed? +Is the King dead, the empire unpossessed? +What heir of York is there alive but we? +And who is England's king but great York's heir? +Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas? + +STANLEY +Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. + +RICHARD +Unless for that he comes to be your liege, +You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. +Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear. + +STANLEY +No, my good lord. Therefore mistrust me not. + +RICHARD +Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? +Where be thy tenants and thy followers? +Are they not now upon the western shore, +Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships? + +STANLEY +No, my good lord. My friends are in the north. + +RICHARD +Cold friends to me. What do they in the north +When they should serve their sovereign in the west? + +STANLEY +They have not been commanded, mighty king. +Pleaseth your Majesty to give me leave, +I'll muster up my friends and meet your Grace +Where and what time your Majesty shall please. + +RICHARD +Ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond, +But I'll not trust thee. + +STANLEY Most mighty sovereign, +You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. +I never was nor never will be false. + +RICHARD +Go then and muster men, but leave behind +Your son George Stanley. Look your heart be firm, +Or else his head's assurance is but frail. + +STANLEY +So deal with him as I prove true to you. +[Stanley exits.] + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +FIRST MESSENGER +My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, +As I by friends am well advertised, +Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate, +Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, +With many more confederates are in arms. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +SECOND MESSENGER +In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in arms, +And every hour more competitors +Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +THIRD MESSENGER +My lord, the army of great Buckingham-- + +RICHARD +Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death. +[He striketh him.] +There, take thou that till thou bring better news. + +THIRD MESSENGER +The news I have to tell your Majesty +Is that by sudden floods and fall of waters +Buckingham's army is dispersed and scattered, +And he himself wandered away alone, +No man knows whither. + +RICHARD I cry thee mercy. +There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. +[He gives money.] +Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed +Reward to him that brings the traitor in? + +THIRD MESSENGER +Such proclamation hath been made, my lord. + +[Enter another Messenger.] + + +FOURTH MESSENGER +Sir Thomas Lovell and Lord Marquess Dorset, +'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. +But this good comfort bring I to your Highness: +The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest. +Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat +Unto the shore to ask those on the banks +If they were his assistants, yea, or no-- +Who answered him they came from Buckingham +Upon his party. He, mistrusting them, +Hoised sail and made his course again for Brittany. + +RICHARD +March on, march on, since we are up in arms, +If not to fight with foreign enemies, +Yet to beat down these rebels here at home. + +[Enter Catesby.] + + +CATESBY +My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken. +That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond +Is with a mighty power landed at Milford +Is colder tidings, yet they must be told. + +RICHARD +Away towards Salisbury! While we reason here, +A royal battle might be won and lost. +Someone take order Buckingham be brought +To Salisbury. The rest march on with me. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Stanley, Earl of Derby, and Sir Christopher.] + + +STANLEY +Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: +That in the sty of the most deadly boar +My son George Stanley is franked up in hold; +If I revolt, off goes young George's head; +The fear of that holds off my present aid. +So get thee gone. Commend me to thy lord. +Withal, say that the Queen hath heartily consented +He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. +But tell me, where is princely Richmond now? + +CHRISTOPHER +At Pembroke, or at Ha'rfordwest in Wales. + +STANLEY What men of name resort to him? + +CHRISTOPHER +Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; +Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley, +Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, +And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew, +And many other of great name and worth; +And towards London do they bend their power, +If by the way they be not fought withal. + +STANLEY, [giving Sir Christopher a paper] +Well, hie thee to thy lord. I kiss his hand. +My letter will resolve him of my mind. +Farewell. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Buckingham, with Sheriff and Halberds, led to +execution.] + + +BUCKINGHAM +Will not King Richard let me speak with him? + +SHERIFF +No, my good lord. Therefore be patient. + +BUCKINGHAM +Hastings and Edward's children, Grey and Rivers, +Holy King Henry and thy fair son Edward, +Vaughan, and all that have miscarried +By underhand, corrupted, foul injustice, +If that your moody, discontented souls +Do through the clouds behold this present hour, +Even for revenge mock my destruction.-- +This is All Souls' Day, fellow, is it not? + +SHERIFF It is. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, then, All Souls' Day is my body's doomsday. +This is the day which, in King Edward's time, +I wished might fall on me when I was found +False to his children and his wife's allies. +This is the day wherein I wished to fall +By the false faith of him whom most I trusted. +This, this All Souls' Day to my fearful soul +Is the determined respite of my wrongs. +That high All-seer which I dallied with +Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head +And given in earnest what I begged in jest. +Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men +To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms. +Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck: +"When he," quoth she, "shall split thy heart with +sorrow, +Remember Margaret was a prophetess."-- +Come, lead me, officers, to the block of shame. +Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. +[Buckingham exits with Officers.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, +with Drum and Colors.] + + +RICHMOND +Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, +Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny, +Thus far into the bowels of the land +Have we marched on without impediment, +And here receive we from our father Stanley +Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. +The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, +That spoiled your summer fields and fruitful vines, +Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his +trough +In your embowelled bosoms--this foul swine +Is now even in the center of this isle, +Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn. +From Tamworth thither is but one day's march. +In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends, +To reap the harvest of perpetual peace +By this one bloody trial of sharp war. + +OXFORD +Every man's conscience is a thousand men +To fight against this guilty homicide. + +HERBERT +I doubt not but his friends will turn to us. + +BLUNT +He hath no friends but what are friends for fear, +Which in his dearest need will fly from him. + +RICHMOND +All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march. +True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; +Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. +[All exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter King Richard, in arms, with Norfolk, Ratcliffe, and +the Earl of Surrey, with Soldiers.] + + +RICHARD +Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth field. +[Soldiers begin to pitch the tent.] +My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? + +SURREY +My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. + +RICHARD +My lord of Norfolk-- + +NORFOLK Here, most gracious liege. + +RICHARD +Norfolk, we must have knocks, ha, must we not? + +NORFOLK +We must both give and take, my loving lord. + +RICHARD +Up with my tent!--Here will I lie tonight. +But where tomorrow? Well, all's one for that. +Who hath descried the number of the traitors? + +NORFOLK +Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. + +RICHARD +Why, our battalia trebles that account. +Besides, the King's name is a tower of strength +Which they upon the adverse faction want.-- +Up with the tent!--Come, noble gentlemen, +Let us survey the vantage of the ground. +Call for some men of sound direction; +Let's lack no discipline, make no delay, +For, lords, tomorrow is a busy day. +[The tent now in place, they exit.] + +[Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, +Dorset, Herbert, Blunt, and others who set up +Richmond's tent.] + + +RICHMOND +The weary sun hath made a golden set, +And by the bright track of his fiery car +Gives token of a goodly day tomorrow.-- +Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.-- +Give me some ink and paper in my tent; +I'll draw the form and model of our battle, +Limit each leader to his several charge, +And part in just proportion our small power.-- +My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon, +And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me. +The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment.-- +Good Captain Blunt, bear my goodnight to him, +And by the second hour in the morning +Desire the Earl to see me in my tent. +Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me. +Where is Lord Stanley quartered, do you know? + +BLUNT +Unless I have mista'en his colors much, +Which well I am assured I have not done, +His regiment lies half a mile, at least, +South from the mighty power of the King. + +RICHMOND +If without peril it be possible, +Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with +him, +And give him from me this most needful note. +[He gives a paper.] + +BLUNT +Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it, +And so God give you quiet rest tonight. + +RICHMOND +Good night, good Captain Blunt. [Blunt exits.] +Come, gentlemen, +Let us consult upon tomorrow's business. +Into my tent. The dew is raw and cold. +[Richmond, Brandon, Dorset, Herbert, and Oxford +withdraw into the tent. The others exit.] + +[Enter to his tent Richard, Ratcliffe, Norfolk, and +Catesby, with Soldiers.] + + +RICHARD What is 't o'clock? + +CATESBY +It's suppertime, my lord. It's nine o'clock. + +RICHARD +I will not sup tonight. Give me some ink and paper. +What, is my beaver easier than it was, +And all my armor laid into my tent? + +CATESBY +It is, my liege, and all things are in readiness. + +RICHARD +Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge. +Use careful watch. Choose trusty sentinels. + +NORFOLK I go, my lord. + +RICHARD +Stir with the lark tomorrow, gentle Norfolk. + +NORFOLK I warrant you, my lord. [He exits.] + +RICHARD Catesby. + +CATESBY My lord. + +RICHARD Send out a pursuivant-at-arms +To Stanley's regiment. Bid him bring his power +Before sunrising, lest his son George fall +Into the blind cave of eternal night. [Catesby exits.] +[To Soldiers.] Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a +watch. +Saddle white Surrey for the field tomorrow. +Look that my staves be sound and not too heavy.-- +Ratcliffe. + +RATCLIFFE My lord. + +RICHARD +Sawst thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland? + +RATCLIFFE +Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself, +Much about cockshut time, from troop to troop +Went through the army cheering up the soldiers. + +RICHARD +So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine. +I have not that alacrity of spirit +Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. +[Wine is brought.] +Set it down. Is ink and paper ready? + +RATCLIFFE +It is, my lord. + +RICHARD Bid my guard watch. Leave me. +Ratcliffe, about the mid of night come to my tent +And help to arm me. Leave me, I say. +[Ratcliffe exits. Richard sleeps in his tent, +which is guarded by Soldiers.] + +[Enter Stanley, Earl of Derby to Richmond in his tent.] + + +STANLEY +Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! + +RICHMOND +All comfort that the dark night can afford +Be to thy person, noble father-in-law. +Tell me, how fares our loving mother? + +STANLEY +I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, +Who prays continually for Richmond's good. +So much for that. The silent hours steal on, +And flaky darkness breaks within the east. +In brief, for so the season bids us be, +Prepare thy battle early in the morning, +And put thy fortune to the arbitrament +Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. +I, as I may--that which I would I cannot-- +With best advantage will deceive the time +And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms. +But on thy side I may not be too forward, +Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, +Be executed in his father's sight. +Farewell. The leisure and the fearful time +Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love +And ample interchange of sweet discourse, +Which so-long-sundered friends should dwell upon. +God give us leisure for these rites of love! +Once more, adieu. Be valiant and speed well. + +RICHMOND +Good lords, conduct him to his regiment. +I'll strive with troubled thoughts to take a nap, +Lest leaden slumber peise me down tomorrow +When I should mount with wings of victory. +Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen. + +[All but Richmond leave his tent and exit.] +[Richmond kneels.] +O Thou, whose captain I account myself, +Look on my forces with a gracious eye. +Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of wrath, +That they may crush down with a heavy fall +The usurping helmets of our adversaries. +Make us Thy ministers of chastisement, +That we may praise Thee in the victory. +To Thee I do commend my watchful soul, +Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes. +Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still! [Sleeps.] + +[Enter the Ghost of young Prince Edward, son to Harry +the Sixth.] + + +GHOST OF EDWARD, [to Richard] +Let me sit heavy on thy soul tomorrow. +Think how thou stabbed'st me in my prime of +youth +At Tewkesbury. Despair therefore, and die! +[(To Richmond.)] Be cheerful, Richmond, for the +wronged souls +Of butchered princes fight in thy behalf. +King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee. +[He exits.] + +[Enter the Ghost of Henry the Sixth.] + + +GHOST OF HENRY, [to Richard] +When I was mortal, my anointed body +By thee was punched full of deadly holes. +Think on the Tower and me. Despair and die! +Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die. +[(To Richmond.)] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror. +Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king, +Doth comfort thee in thy sleep. Live and flourish. +[He exits.] + +[Enter the Ghost of Clarence.] + + +GHOST OF CLARENCE, [to Richard] +Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow, +I, that was washed to death with fulsome wine, +Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death. +Tomorrow in the battle think on me, +And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die! +[(To Richmond.)] Thou offspring of the house of +Lancaster, +The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee. +Good angels guard thy battle. Live and flourish. +[He exits.] + +[Enter the Ghosts of Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan.] + + +GHOST OF RIVERS, [to Richard] +Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow, +Rivers, that died at Pomfret. Despair and die! + +GHOST OF GREY, [to Richard] +Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair! + +GHOST OF VAUGHAN, [to Richard] +Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear +Let fall thy lance. Despair and die! + +ALL, [to Richmond] +Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom +Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day. +[They exit.] + +[Enter the Ghosts of the two young Princes.] + + +GHOSTS OF PRINCES, [to Richard] +Dream on thy cousins smothered in the Tower. +Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, +And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death. +Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die. +[(To Richmond.)] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace +and wake in joy. +Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy. +Live, and beget a happy race of kings. +Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish. +[They exit.] + +[Enter the Ghost of Hastings.] + + +GHOST OF HASTINGS, [to Richard] +Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, +And in a bloody battle end thy days. +Think on Lord Hastings. Despair and die! +[(To Richmond.)] Quiet, untroubled soul, awake, awake. +Arm, fight, and conquer for fair England's sake. +[He exits.] + +[Enter the Ghost of Lady Anne his wife.] + + +GHOST OF ANNE, [to Richard] +Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, +That never slept a quiet hour with thee, +Now fills thy sleep with perturbations. +Tomorrow, in the battle, think on me, +And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die! +[(To Richmond.)] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet +sleep. +Dream of success and happy victory. +Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. [She exits.] + +[Enter the Ghost of Buckingham.] + + +GHOST OF BUCKINGHAM, [to Richard] +The first was I that helped thee to the crown; +The last was I that felt thy tyranny. +O, in the battle think on Buckingham, +And die in terror of thy guiltiness. +Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death. +Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath. +[(To Richmond.)] I died for hope ere I could lend +thee aid, +But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismayed. +God and good angels fight on Richmond's side, +And Richard fall in height of all his pride. +[He exits.] +[Richard starteth up out of a dream.] + +RICHARD +Give me another horse! Bind up my wounds! +Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft, I did but dream. +O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! +The lights burn blue; it is now dead midnight. +Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. +What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by. +Richard loves Richard, that is, I am I. +Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am. +Then fly! What, from myself? Great reason why: +Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself? +Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good +That I myself have done unto myself? +O, no. Alas, I rather hate myself +For hateful deeds committed by myself. +I am a villain. Yet I lie; I am not. +Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. +My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, +And every tongue brings in a several tale, +And every tale condemns me for a villain. +Perjury, perjury, in the highest degree; +Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree; +All several sins, all used in each degree, +Throng to the bar, crying all "Guilty, guilty!" +I shall despair. There is no creature loves me, +And if I die no soul will pity me. +And wherefore should they, since that I myself +Find in myself no pity to myself? +Methought the souls of all that I had murdered +Came to my tent, and every one did threat +Tomorrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. + +[Enter Ratcliffe.] + + +RATCLIFFE My lord. + +RICHARD Zounds, who is there? + +RATCLIFFE +Ratcliffe, my lord, 'tis I. The early village cock +Hath twice done salutation to the morn. +Your friends are up and buckle on their armor. + +RICHARD +O Ratcliffe, I have dreamed a fearful dream! +What think'st thou, will our friends prove all true? + +RATCLIFFE +No doubt, my lord. + +RICHARD O Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear. + +RATCLIFFE +Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. + +RICHARD +By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight +Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard +Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers +Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond. +'Tis not yet near day. Come, go with me. +Under our tents I'll play the eavesdropper +To see if any mean to shrink from me. +[Richard and Ratcliffe exit.] + +[Enter the Lords to Richmond, in his tent.] + + +LORDS Good morrow, Richmond. + +RICHMOND +Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, +That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. + +A LORD How have you slept, my lord? + +RICHMOND +The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams +That ever entered in a drowsy head +Have I since your departure had, my lords. +Methought their souls whose bodies Richard +murdered +Came to my tent and cried on victory. +I promise you, my soul is very jocund +In the remembrance of so fair a dream. +How far into the morning is it, lords? + +A LORD Upon the stroke of four. + +RICHMOND, [leaving the tent] +Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction. + +His oration to his soldiers. + +More than I have said, loving countrymen, +The leisure and enforcement of the time +Forbids to dwell upon. Yet remember this: +God, and our good cause, fight upon our side. +The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, +Like high-reared bulwarks, stand before our faces. +Richard except, those whom we fight against +Had rather have us win than him they follow. +For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen, +A bloody tyrant and a homicide; +One raised in blood, and one in blood established; +One that made means to come by what he hath, +And slaughtered those that were the means to help +him; +A base foul stone, made precious by the foil +Of England's chair, where he is falsely set; +One that hath ever been God's enemy. +Then if you fight against God's enemy, +God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers. +If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, +You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain. +If you do fight against your country's foes, +Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire. +If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, +Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors. +If you do free your children from the sword, +Your children's children quits it in your age. +Then, in the name of God and all these rights, +Advance your standards; draw your willing swords. +For me, the ransom of my bold attempt +Shall be this cold corpse on the Earth's cold face, +But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt +The least of you shall share his part thereof. +Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully. +God, and Saint George, Richmond, and victory! +[They exit.] + +[Enter King Richard, Ratcliffe, and Soldiers.] + + +RICHARD +What said Northumberland as touching Richmond? + +RATCLIFFE +That he was never trained up in arms. + +RICHARD +He said the truth. And what said Surrey then? + +RATCLIFFE +He smiled and said "The better for our purpose." + +RICHARD +He was in the right, and so indeed it is. +[The clock striketh.] +Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. +[He looks in an almanac.] +Who saw the sun today? + +RATCLIFFE Not I, my lord. + +RICHARD +Then he disdains to shine, for by the book +He should have braved the east an hour ago. +A black day will it be to somebody. +Ratcliffe! + +RATCLIFFE +My lord. + +RICHARD The sun will not be seen today. +The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. +I would these dewy tears were from the ground. +Not shine today? Why, what is that to me +More than to Richmond, for the selfsame heaven +That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. + +[Enter Norfolk.] + + +NORFOLK +Arm, arm, my lord. The foe vaunts in the field. + +RICHARD +Come, bustle, bustle. Caparison my horse.-- +Call up Lord Stanley; bid him bring his power.-- +I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, +And thus my battle shall be ordered: +My foreward shall be drawn out all in length, +Consisting equally of horse and foot; +Our archers shall be placed in the midst. +John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, +Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. +They thus directed, we will follow +In the main battle, whose puissance on either side +Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. +This, and Saint George to boot!--What think'st +thou, Norfolk? + +NORFOLK +A good direction, warlike sovereign. +[He sheweth him a paper.] +This found I on my tent this morning. + +RICHARD [reads] + Jockey of Norfolk, be not so bold. + For Dickon thy master is bought and sold. +A thing devised by the enemy.-- +Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge. +Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls. +Conscience is but a word that cowards use, +Devised at first to keep the strong in awe. +Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law. +March on. Join bravely. Let us to it pell mell, +If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. + +His oration to his army. + +What shall I say more than I have inferred? +Remember whom you are to cope withal, +A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, +A scum of Bretons and base lackey peasants, +Whom their o'ercloyed country vomits forth +To desperate adventures and assured destruction. +You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; +You having lands and blessed with beauteous wives, +They would restrain the one, distain the other. +And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, +Long kept in Brittany at our mother's cost, +A milksop, one that never in his life +Felt so much cold as overshoes in snow? +Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again, +Lash hence these overweening rags of France, +These famished beggars weary of their lives, +Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, +For want of means, poor rats, had hanged +themselves. +If we be conquered, let men conquer us, +And not these bastard Bretons, whom our fathers +Have in their own land beaten, bobbed, and +thumped, +And in record left them the heirs of shame. +Shall these enjoy our lands, lie with our wives, +Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar off.] +Hark, I hear their drum. +Fight, gentlemen of England.--Fight, bold +yeomen.-- +Draw, archers; draw your arrows to the head.-- +Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood. +Amaze the welkin with your broken staves.-- + +[Enter a Messenger.] + +What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power? + +MESSENGER My lord, he doth deny to come. + +RICHARD Off with his son George's head! + +NORFOLK +My lord, the enemy is past the marsh. +After the battle let George Stanley die. + +RICHARD +A thousand hearts are great within my bosom. +Advance our standards. Set upon our foes. +Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, +Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons. +Upon them! Victory sits on our helms. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Norfolk, with Soldiers, and +Catesby.] + + +CATESBY +Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! +The King enacts more wonders than a man, +Daring an opposite to every danger. +His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, +Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. +Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost. +[Norfolk exits with Soldiers.] + +[Alarums. Enter Richard.] + + +RICHARD +A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse! + +CATESBY +Withdraw, my lord. I'll help you to a horse. + +RICHARD +Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, +And I will stand the hazard of the die. +I think there be six Richmonds in the field; +Five have I slain today instead of him. +A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse! +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Alarum. Enter Richard and Richmond. They fight. +Richard is slain. Then retreat being sounded, Richmond +exits, and Richard's body is removed. Flourish. Enter +Richmond, Stanley, Earl of Derby, bearing the crown, +with other Lords, and Soldiers.] + + +RICHMOND +God and your arms be praised, victorious friends! +The day is ours; the bloody dog is dead. + +STANLEY, [offering him the crown] +Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee. +Lo, here this long-usurped royalty +From the dead temples of this bloody wretch +Have I plucked off, to grace thy brows withal. +Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it. + +RICHMOND +Great God of heaven, say amen to all! +But tell me, is young George Stanley living? + +STANLEY +He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town, +Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us. + +RICHMOND +What men of name are slain on either side? + +STANLEY +John, Duke of Norfolk, Walter, Lord Ferrers, +Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon. + +RICHMOND +Inter their bodies as becomes their births. +Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled +That in submission will return to us. +And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament, +We will unite the white rose and the red; +Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction, +That long have frowned upon their enmity. +What traitor hears me and says not "Amen"? +England hath long been mad and scarred herself: +The brother blindly shed the brother's blood; +The father rashly slaughtered his own son; +The son, compelled, been butcher to the sire. +All this divided York and Lancaster, +Divided in their dire division. +O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, +The true succeeders of each royal house, +By God's fair ordinance conjoin together, +And let their heirs, God, if Thy will be so, +Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace, +With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days. +Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, +That would reduce these bloody days again +And make poor England weep in streams of blood. +Let them not live to taste this land's increase, +That would with treason wound this fair land's peace. +Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again. +That she may long live here, God say amen. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/romeo-and-juliet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/romeo-and-juliet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8baaef2 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/romeo-and-juliet_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5011 @@ +Romeo and Juliet +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/romeo-and-juliet/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +ROMEO +MONTAGUE, his father +LADY MONTAGUE, his mother +BENVOLIO, their kinsman +ABRAM, a Montague servingman +BALTHASAR, Romeo's servingman +JULIET +CAPULET, her father +LADY CAPULET, her mother +NURSE to Juliet +TYBALT, kinsman to the Capulets +PETRUCHIO, Tybalt's companion +Capulet's Cousin +Servingmen: + SAMPSON + GREGORY + PETER +Other Servingmen +ESCALUS, Prince of Verona +PARIS, the Prince's kinsman and Juliet's suitor +MERCUTIO, the Prince's kinsman and Romeo's friend +Paris' Page +FRIAR LAWRENCE +FRIAR JOHN +APOTHECARY +Three or four Citizens +Three Musicians +Three Watchmen +CHORUS +Attendants, Maskers, Torchbearers, a Boy with a drum, Gentlemen, Gentlewomen, Tybalt's Page, Servingmen. + + +THE PROLOGUE +============ +[Enter Chorus.] + + +Two households, both alike in dignity +(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene), +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life; +Whose misadventured piteous overthrows +Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-marked love +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, naught could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which, if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. +[Chorus exits.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Sampson and Gregory, with swords and bucklers, +of the house of Capulet.] + + +SAMPSON Gregory, on my word we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of +collar. + +SAMPSON I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to +stand. Therefore if thou art moved thou runn'st +away. + +SAMPSON A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I +will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest +goes to the wall. + +SAMPSON 'Tis true, and therefore women, being the +weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore +I will push Montague's men from the wall and +thrust his maids to the wall. + +GREGORY The quarrel is between our masters and us +their men. + +SAMPSON 'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. +When I have fought with the men, I will be civil +with the maids; I will cut off their heads. + +GREGORY The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads. +Take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON Me they shall feel while I am able to stand, +and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor-john. Draw thy tool. Here comes +of the house of Montagues. + +[Enter Abram with another Servingman.] + + +SAMPSON My naked weapon is out. Quarrel, I will back +thee. + +GREGORY How? Turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON Fear me not. + +GREGORY No, marry. I fear thee! + +SAMPSON Let us take the law of our sides; let them +begin. + +GREGORY I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it +as they list. + +SAMPSON Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at +them, which is disgrace to them if they bear it. +[He bites his thumb.] + +ABRAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON, [aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side if I +say "Ay"? + +GREGORY, [aside to Sampson] No. + +SAMPSON No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, +but I bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAM Quarrel, sir? No, sir. + +SAMPSON But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as +good a man as you. + +ABRAM No better. + +SAMPSON Well, sir. + +[Enter Benvolio.] + + +GREGORY, [aside to Sampson] Say "better"; here comes +one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAM You lie. + +SAMPSON Draw if you be men.--Gregory, remember +thy washing blow. [They fight.] + +BENVOLIO Part, fools! [Drawing his sword.] +Put up your swords. You know not what you do. + +[Enter Tybalt, drawing his sword.] + + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio; look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee. +Have at thee, coward! [They fight.] + +[Enter three or four Citizens with clubs or partisans.] + + +CITIZENS +Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues! + +[Enter old Capulet in his gown, and his Wife.] + + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a +sword? + +[Enter old Montague and his Wife.] + +CAPULET +My sword, I say. Old Montague is come +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet!--Hold me not; let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. + +[Enter Prince Escalus with his train.] + + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel-- +Will they not hear?--What ho! You men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins: +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls bred of an airy word +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave-beseeming ornaments +To wield old partisans in hands as old, +Cankered with peace, to part your cankered hate. +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time all the rest depart away. +You, Capulet, shall go along with me, +And, Montague, come you this afternoon +To know our farther pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. +[All but Montague, Lady Montague, +and Benvolio exit.] + +MONTAGUE, [to Benvolio] +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach. +I drew to part them. In the instant came +The fiery Tybalt with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who, nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn. +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the Prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshiped sun +Peered forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drove me to walk abroad, +Where underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from this city side, +So early walking did I see your son. +Towards him I made, but he was 'ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood. +I, measuring his affections by my own +(Which then most sought where most might not be +found, +Being one too many by my weary self), +Pursued my humor, not pursuing his, +And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs. +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the farthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from light steals home my heavy son +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, +And makes himself an artificial night. +Black and portentous must this humor prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends. +But he, his own affections' counselor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true, +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air +Or dedicate his beauty to the same. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +[Enter Romeo.] + + +BENVOLIO +See where he comes. So please you, step aside. +I'll know his grievance or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay +To hear true shrift.--Come, madam, let's away. +[Montague and Lady Montague exit.] + +BENVOLIO +Good morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO Ay me, sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO In love? + +ROMEO Out-- + +BENVOLIO Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favor where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should without eyes see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine?--O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, +O anything of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness, serious vanity, +Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, +Still-waking sleep that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate to have it pressed +With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears. +What is it else? A madness most discreet, +A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO Soft, I will go along. +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself. I am not here. +This is not Romeo. He's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love? + +ROMEO What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan? Why, no. But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +A sick man in sadness makes his will-- +A word ill urged to one that is so ill. +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aimed so near when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good markman! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit, +And, in strong proof of chastity well armed, +From love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor +That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; +For beauty, starved with her severity, +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair. +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead, that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me. Forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think! + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes. +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO 'Tis the way +To call hers, exquisite, in question more. +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, +Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair. +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. +Show me a mistress that is passing fair; +What doth her beauty serve but as a note +Where I may read who passed that passing fair? +Farewell. Thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine or else die in debt. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Capulet, County Paris, and a Servingman.] + + +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honorable reckoning are you both, +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before. +My child is yet a stranger in the world. +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years. +Let two more summers wither in their pride +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marred are those so early made. +Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she; +She's the hopeful lady of my earth. +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart; +My will to her consent is but a part. +And, she agreed, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustomed feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest +Such as I love; and you among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light. +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-appareled April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be; +Which, on more view of many, mine, being one, +May stand in number, though in reck'ning none. +Come go with me. [To Servingman, giving him a list.] +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona, find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. +[Capulet and Paris exit.] + +SERVINGMAN Find them out whose names are written +here! It is written that the shoemaker should +meddle with his yard and the tailor with his last, the +fisher with his pencil and the painter with his nets. +But I am sent to find those persons whose names +are here writ, and can never find what names the +writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned. +In good time! + +[Enter Benvolio and Romeo.] + + +BENVOLIO, [to Romeo] +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; +One pain is lessened by another's anguish. +Turn giddy, and be helped by backward turning. +One desperate grief cures with another's languish. +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO Why Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a madman is, +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipped and tormented, and--good e'en, good +fellow. + +SERVINGMAN God gi' good e'en. I pray, sir, can you +read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +SERVINGMAN Perhaps you have learned it without +book. But I pray, can you read anything you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +SERVINGMAN You say honestly. Rest you merry. + +ROMEO Stay, fellow. I can read. [(He reads the letter.)] +Signior Martino and his wife and daughters, +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters, +The lady widow of Vitruvio, +Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces, +Mercutio and his brother Valentine, +Mine Uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters, +My fair niece Rosaline and Livia, +Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, +Lucio and the lively Helena. +A fair assembly. Whither should they come? + +SERVINGMAN Up. + +ROMEO Whither? To supper? + +SERVINGMAN To our house. + +ROMEO Whose house? + +SERVINGMAN My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed I should have asked thee that before. + +SERVINGMAN Now I'll tell you without asking. My +master is the great rich Capulet, and, if you be not +of the house of Montagues, I pray come and crush a +cup of wine. Rest you merry. [He exits.] + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so loves, +With all the admired beauties of Verona. +Go thither, and with unattainted eye +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire; +And these who, often drowned, could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars. +One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye; +But in that crystal scales let there be weighed +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now seems best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.] + + +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me. + +NURSE +Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, +I bade her come.--What, lamb! What, ladybird! +God forbid. Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +[Enter Juliet.] + + +JULIET How now, who calls? + +NURSE Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter.--Nurse, give leave awhile. +We must talk in secret.--Nurse, come back again. +I have remembered me, thou 's hear our counsel. +Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age. + +NURSE +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET She's not fourteen. + +NURSE I'll lay fourteen of my teeth (and yet, to my teen +be it spoken, I have but four) she's not fourteen. +How long is it now to Lammastide? + +LADY CAPULET A fortnight and odd days. + +NURSE +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she (God rest all Christian souls!) +Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me. But, as I said, +On Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen. +That shall she. Marry, I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, +And she was weaned (I never shall forget it) +Of all the days of the year, upon that day. +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. +My lord and you were then at Mantua. +Nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug. +"Shake," quoth the dovehouse. 'Twas no need, I +trow, +To bid me trudge. +And since that time it is eleven years. +For then she could stand high-lone. Nay, by th' +rood, +She could have run and waddled all about, +For even the day before, she broke her brow, +And then my husband (God be with his soul, +He was a merry man) took up the child. +"Yea," quoth he, "Dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit, +Wilt thou not, Jule?" And, by my holidam, +The pretty wretch left crying and said "Ay." +To see now how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it. "Wilt thou not, Jule?" +quoth he. +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said "Ay." + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this. I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +NURSE +Yes, madam, yet I cannot choose but laugh +To think it should leave crying and say "Ay." +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cock'rel's stone, +A perilous knock, and it cried bitterly. +"Yea," quoth my husband. "Fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age, +Wilt thou not, Jule?" It stinted and said "Ay." + +JULIET +And stint thou, too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +NURSE +Peace. I have done. God mark thee to his grace, +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that "marry" is the very theme +I came to talk of.--Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honor that I dream not of. + +NURSE +An honor? Were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy +teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers. By my count +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +NURSE +A man, young lady--lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +NURSE +Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? Can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast. +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen. +Examine every married lineament +And see how one another lends content, +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him only lacks a cover. +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide. +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story. +So shall you share all that he doth possess +By having him, making yourself no less. + +NURSE +No less? Nay, bigger. Women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly. Can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move. +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +[Enter Servingman.] + + +SERVINGMAN Madam, the guests are come, supper +served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the +Nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in +extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you, +follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. [Servingman exits.] +Juliet, the County stays. + +NURSE +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other +Maskers, Torchbearers, and a Boy with a drum.] + + +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity. +We'll have no Cupid hoodwinked with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper, +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance. +But let them measure us by what they will. +We'll measure them a measure and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. +Being but heavy I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes +With nimble soles. I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe. +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And to sink in it should you burden love-- +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, +Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love. +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.-- +Give me a case to put my visage in.-- +A visor for a visor. What care I +What curious eye doth cote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase: +I'll be a candle holder and look on; +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word. +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire-- +Or, save your reverence, love--wherein thou +stickest +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights; in vain, light lights by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this masque, +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dreamt a dream tonight. + +MERCUTIO And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate stone +On the forefinger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomi +Over men's noses as they lie asleep. +Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +Her traces of the smallest spider web, +Her collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small gray-coated gnat, +Not half so big as a round little worm +Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid. +Her chariot is an empty hazelnut, +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +On courtiers' knees, that dream on cur'sies straight; +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; +O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit. +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, +Tickling a parson's nose as he lies asleep; +Then he dreams of another benefice. +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five fathom deep, and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes +And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled much misfortune bodes. +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage. +This is she-- + +ROMEO Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace. +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who woos +Even now the frozen bosom of the north +And, being angered, puffs away from thence, +Turning his side to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves. +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear too early, for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels, and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But he that hath the steerage of my course +Direct my sail. On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO Strike, drum. +[They march about the stage +and then withdraw to the side.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Servingmen come forth with napkins.] + + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Where's Potpan that he helps not +to take away? He shift a trencher? He scrape a +trencher? + +SECOND SERVINGMAN When good manners shall lie +all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed +too, 'tis a foul thing. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN Away with the joint stools, remove +the court cupboard, look to the plate.-- +Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane, and, as +thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone +and Nell.--Anthony and Potpan! + +THIRD SERVINGMAN Ay, boy, ready. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN You are looked for and called for, +asked for and sought for, in the great chamber. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN We cannot be here and there too. +Cheerly, boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver +take all. [They move aside.] + +[Enter Capulet and his household, all the guests and +gentlewomen to Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, and the +other Maskers.] + + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will walk a bout with +you.-- +Ah, my mistresses, which of you all +Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns. Am I come near you +now?-- +Welcome, gentlemen. I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone. +You are welcome, gentlemen.--Come, musicians, +play. [Music plays and they dance.] +A hall, a hall, give room!--And foot it, girls.-- +More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire; the room is grown too hot.-- +Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well.-- +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet, +For you and I are past our dancing days. +How long is 't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +CAPULET'S COUSIN By 'r Lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man, 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much. +'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, +Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years, and then we masked. + +CAPULET'S COUSIN +'Tis more, 'tis more. His son is elder, sir. +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO, [to a Servingman] +What lady's that which doth enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +SERVINGMAN I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear-- +Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear. +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague.-- +Fetch me my rapier, boy. [Page exits.] +What, dares the slave +Come hither covered with an antic face +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, +To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz. Let him alone. +He bears him like a portly gentleman, +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-governed youth. +I would not for the wealth of all this town +Here in my house do him disparagement. +Therefore be patient. Take no note of him. +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits when such a villain is a guest. +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET He shall be endured. +What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to. +Am I the master here or you? Go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul, +You'll make a mutiny among my guests, +You will set cock-a-hoop, you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET Go to, go to. +You are a saucy boy. Is 't so indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what. +You must contrary me. Marry, 'tis time-- +Well said, my hearts.--You are a princox, go. +Be quiet, or--More light, more light!--for shame, +I'll make you quiet.--What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with willful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall, +Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall. +[He exits.] + +ROMEO, [taking Juliet's hand] +If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. +They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not while my prayer's effect I take. +[He kisses her.] +Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. [He kisses her.] + +JULIET You kiss by th' book. + +NURSE +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. +[Juliet moves toward her mother.] + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +NURSE Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous. +I nursed her daughter that you talked withal. +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. [Nurse moves away.] + +ROMEO, [aside] Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! My life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone. The sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear. The more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone. +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.-- +Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all. +I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night.-- +More torches here.--Come on then, let's to bed.-- +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late. +I'll to my rest. +[All but Juliet and the Nurse begin to exit.] + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +NURSE +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +NURSE +Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows here, that would not dance? + +NURSE I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name. [The Nurse goes.] If he be married, +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +NURSE, [returning] +His name is Romeo, and a Montague, +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +NURSE +What's this? What's this? + +JULIET A rhyme I learned even now +Of one I danced withal. +[One calls within "Juliet."] + +NURSE Anon, anon. +Come, let's away. The strangers all are gone. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + + + +[Enter Chorus.] + + +Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir. +That fair for which love groaned for and would die, +With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike bewitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks. +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear, +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new beloved anywhere. +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, +Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet. +[Chorus exits.] + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Romeo alone.] + + +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out. +[He withdraws.] + +[Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.] + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, my cousin Romeo, Romeo! + +MERCUTIO He is wise +And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall. +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! Humors! Madman! Passion! Lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh. +Speak but one rhyme and I am satisfied. +Cry but "Ay me," pronounce but "love" and +"dove." +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nickname for her purblind son and heir, +Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim +When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid.-- +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not. +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.-- +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us. + +BENVOLIO +An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him. 'Twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down. +That were some spite. My invocation +Is fair and honest. In his mistress' name, +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees +To be consorted with the humorous night. +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.-- +O Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open-arse, thou a pop'rin pear. +Romeo, good night. I'll to my truckle bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.-- +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO Go, then, for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Romeo comes forward.] + + + +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +[Enter Juliet above.] + +But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the East, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief +That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. +Be not her maid since she is envious. +Her vestal livery is but sick and green, +And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off. +It is my lady. O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks. +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those +stars +As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET Ay me. + +ROMEO, [aside] She speaks. +O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name, +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO, [aside] +Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name +Belonging to a man. +What's in a name? That which we call a rose +By any other word would smell as sweet. +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, +Take all myself. + +ROMEO I take thee at thy word. +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am. +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself +Because it is an enemy to thee. +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words +Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. +Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do, that dares love attempt. +Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, +And, but thou love me, let them find me here. +My life were better ended by their hate +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, that first did prompt me to inquire. +He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, +I should adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. +Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny +What I have spoke. But farewell compliment. +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "Ay," +And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries, +They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. +Or, if thou thinkest I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my havior light. +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more coying to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st ere I was ware +My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow, +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET Do not swear at all. +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract tonight. +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say "It lightens." Sweet, good night. +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night. As sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast. + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? + +ROMEO +Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have. +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep. The more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. +[Nurse calls from within.] +I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.-- +Anon, good nurse.--Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little; I will come again. [She exits.] + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering sweet to be substantial. + +[Reenter Juliet above.] + + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honorable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite, +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +NURSE, [within] Madam. + +JULIET +I come anon.--But if thou meanest not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +NURSE, [within] Madam. + +JULIET By and by, I come.-- +To cease thy strife and leave me to my grief. +Tomorrow will I send. + +ROMEO So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET A thousand times good night. [She exits.] + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse to want thy light. +Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their +books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. +[Going.] + +[Enter Juliet above again.] + + +JULIET +Hist, Romeo, hist! O, for a falc'ner's voice +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud, +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine +With repetition of "My Romeo!" + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name. +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears. + +JULIET +Romeo. + +ROMEO My dear. + +JULIET What o'clock tomorrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO By the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail. 'Tis twenty year till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Rememb'ring how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning. I would have thee gone, +And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, +That lets it hop a little from his hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silken thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET Sweet, so would I. +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet +sorrow +That I shall say "Good night" till it be morrow. +[She exits.] + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast. +Would I were sleep and peace so sweet to rest. +Hence will I to my ghostly friar's close cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Friar Lawrence alone with a basket.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Check'ring the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels. +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must upfill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The Earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave, that is her womb; +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some, and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities. +For naught so vile that on the Earth doth live +But to the Earth some special good doth give; +Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use, +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse. +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, +And vice sometime by action dignified. + +[Enter Romeo.] + +Within the infant rind of this weak flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each +part; +Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs--grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE Benedicite. +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distempered head +So soon to bid "Good morrow" to thy bed. +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And, where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuffed brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth +reign. +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art uproused with some distemp'rature, +Or, if not so, then here I hit it right: +Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight. + +ROMEO +That last is true. The sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No. +I have forgot that name and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +That's my good son. But where hast thou been +then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me +That's by me wounded. Both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies. +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift. +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet. +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine, +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage. When and where and how +We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow +I'll tell thee as we pass, but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us today. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath washed thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans yet ringing in mine ancient ears. +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not washed off yet. +If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline. +And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence +then: +Women may fall when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE Not in a grave +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide me not. Her I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow. +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me. +In one respect I'll thy assistant be, +For this alliance may so happy prove +To turn your households' rancor to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence. I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.] + + +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home tonight? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's. I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that +Rosaline, +Torments him so that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how +he dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead, +stabbed with a white wench's black eye, run +through the ear with a love-song, the very pin of his +heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt shaft. And +is he a man to encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO More than prince of cats. O, he's the courageous +captain of compliments. He fights as you sing +prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion. +He rests his minim rests, one, two, and the third in +your bosom--the very butcher of a silk button, a +duelist, a duelist, a gentleman of the very first house +of the first and second cause. Ah, the immortal +passado, the punto reverso, the hay! + +BENVOLIO The what? + +MERCUTIO The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +phantasimes, these new tuners of accent: "By +Jesu, a very good blade! A very tall man! A very good +whore!" Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, +that we should be thus afflicted with these +strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these "pardon-me" 's, +who stand so much on the new form +that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O their +bones, their bones! + +[Enter Romeo.] + + +BENVOLIO Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO Without his roe, like a dried herring. O +flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the +numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura to his lady +was a kitchen wench (marry, she had a better love +to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a gray +eye or so, but not to the purpose.--Signior Romeo, +bonjour. There's a French salutation to your French +slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. + +ROMEO Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit +did I give you? + +MERCUTIO The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive? + +ROMEO Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was +great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain +courtesy. + +MERCUTIO That's as much as to say such a case as +yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO Meaning, to curtsy. + +MERCUTIO Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO "Pink" for flower. + +MERCUTIO Right. + +ROMEO Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO Sure wit, follow me this jest now till thou +hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole +of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, +solely singular. + +ROMEO O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO Come between us, good Benvolio. My wits +faints. + +ROMEO Switch and spurs, switch and spurs, or I'll cry +a match. + +MERCUTIO Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I +am done, for thou hast more of the wild goose in +one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole +five. Was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO Thou wast never with me for anything when +thou wast not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO And is it not, then, well served into a sweet +goose? + +MERCUTIO O, here's a wit of cheveril that stretches +from an inch narrow to an ell broad. + +ROMEO I stretch it out for that word "broad," which +added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a +broad goose. + +MERCUTIO Why, is not this better now than groaning +for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou +Romeo, now art thou what thou art, by art as well as +by nature. For this driveling love is like a great +natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his +bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against +the hair. + +BENVOLIO Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO O, thou art deceived. I would have made it +short, for I was come to the whole depth of my tale +and meant indeed to occupy the argument no +longer. + +[Enter Nurse and her man Peter.] + + +ROMEO Here's goodly gear. A sail, a sail! + +MERCUTIO Two, two--a shirt and a smock. + +NURSE Peter. + +PETER Anon. + +NURSE My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO Good Peter, to hide her face, for her fan's +the fairer face. + +NURSE God you good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO God you good e'en, fair gentlewoman. + +NURSE Is it good e'en? + +MERCUTIO 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of +the dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +NURSE Out upon you! What a man are you? + +ROMEO One, gentlewoman, that God hath made, himself +to mar. + +NURSE By my troth, it is well said: "for himself to +mar," quoth he? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me +where I may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO I can tell you, but young Romeo will be older +when you have found him than he was when you +sought him. I am the youngest of that name, for +fault of a worse. + +NURSE You say well. + +MERCUTIO Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i' +faith, wisely, wisely. + +NURSE If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO A bawd, a bawd, a bawd. So ho! + +ROMEO What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO No hare, sir, unless a hare, sir, in a Lenten +pie that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. +[Singing.] An old hare hoar, + And an old hare hoar, + Is very good meat in Lent. + But a hare that is hoar + Is too much for a score + When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? We'll to +dinner thither. + +ROMEO I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell, lady, lady, +lady. [Mercutio and Benvolio exit.] + +NURSE I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this +that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself +talk and will speak more in a minute than he will +stand to in a month. + +NURSE An he speak anything against me, I'll take him +down, an he were lustier than he is, and twenty +such jacks. An if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave, I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none +of his skains-mates. [To Peter.] And thou must stand +by too and suffer every knave to use me at his +pleasure. + +PETER I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, +my weapon should quickly have been out. I warrant +you, I dare draw as soon as another man, if I +see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my +side. + +NURSE Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part +about me quivers. Scurvy knave! [To Romeo.] Pray +you, sir, a word. And, as I told you, my young lady +bid me inquire you out. What she bid me say, I will +keep to myself. But first let me tell you, if you +should lead her in a fool's paradise, as they say, it +were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say. For +the gentlewoman is young; and therefore, if you +should deal double with her, truly it were an ill +thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very +weak dealing. + +ROMEO Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. +I protest unto thee-- + +NURSE Good heart, and i' faith I will tell her as much. +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO What wilt thou tell her, nurse? Thou dost not +mark me. + +NURSE I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon, +And there she shall at Friar Lawrence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. +[Offering her money.] + +NURSE No, truly, sir, not a penny. + +ROMEO Go to, I say you shall. + +NURSE +This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall. +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair, +Which to the high topgallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell. Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains. +Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress. + +NURSE +Now, God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO What sayst thou, my dear nurse? + +NURSE +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say +"Two may keep counsel, putting one away"? + +ROMEO +Warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, +Lord, when 'twas a little prating thing--O, there is +a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay +knife aboard, but she, good soul, had as lief see a +toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes +and tell her that Paris is the properer man, but I'll +warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any +clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and +Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO Ay, nurse, what of that? Both with an R. + +NURSE Ah, mocker, that's the dog's name. R is for +the--No, I know it begins with some other letter, +and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you +and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. + +ROMEO Commend me to thy lady. + +NURSE Ay, a thousand times.--Peter. + +PETER Anon. + +NURSE Before and apace. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Juliet.] + + +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse. +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him. That's not so. +O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glides than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills. +Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me. +But old folks, many feign as they were dead, +Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead. + +[Enter Nurse and Peter.] + +O God, she comes!--O, honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +NURSE Peter, stay at the gate. [Peter exits.] + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse--O Lord, why lookest thou +sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily. +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +NURSE +I am aweary. Give me leave awhile. +Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news. +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak. Good, good nurse, +speak. + +NURSE +Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that. +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance. +Let me be satisfied; is 't good or bad? + +NURSE Well, you have made a simple choice. You know +not how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. +Though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg +excels all men's, and for a hand and a foot and a +body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they +are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, +but I'll warrant him as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench. Serve God. What, have you dined at +home? + +JULIET +No, no. But all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? What of that? + +NURSE +Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side! Ah, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about +To catch my death with jaunting up and down. + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my +love? + +NURSE Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother? Why, she is within. +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest: +"Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?" + +NURSE O God's lady dear, +Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow. +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil. Come, what says Romeo? + +NURSE +Have you got leave to go to shrift today? + +JULIET I have. + +NURSE +Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell. +There stays a husband to make you a wife. +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks; +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church. I must another way, +To fetch a ladder by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark. +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go. I'll to dinner. Hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act +That after-hours with sorrow chide us not. + +ROMEO +Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight. +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare, +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite. +Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so. +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +[Enter Juliet.] + +Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint. +A lover may bestride the gossamers +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall, so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament. +They are but beggars that can count their worth, +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work, +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till Holy Church incorporate two in one. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and their men.] + + +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire. +The day is hot, the Capels are abroad, +And if we meet we shall not 'scape a brawl, +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO Thou art like one of these fellows that, when +he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his +sword upon the table and says "God send me no +need of thee" and, by the operation of the second +cup, draws him on the drawer when indeed there is +no need. + +BENVOLIO Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy +mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be +moody, and as soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO And what to? + +MERCUTIO Nay, an there were two such, we should +have none shortly, for one would kill the other. +Thou--why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that +hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than +thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking +nuts, having no other reason but because thou +hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy +out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as +an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been +beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast +quarreled with a man for coughing in the street +because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain +asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor +for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With +another, for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? +And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling? + +BENVOLIO An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any +man should buy the fee simple of my life for an +hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO The fee simple? O simple! + +[Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.] + + +BENVOLIO By my head, here comes the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO By my heel, I care not. + +TYBALT, [to his companions] +Follow me close, for I will speak to them.-- +Gentlemen, good e'en. A word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO And but one word with one of us? Couple it +with something. Make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an +you will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO Could you not take some occasion without +giving? + +TYBALT Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo. + +MERCUTIO Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? +An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear +nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's +that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men. +Either withdraw unto some private place, +Or reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +[Enter Romeo.] + + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery. +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower. +Your Worship in that sense may call him "man." + +TYBALT +Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford +No better term than this: thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting. Villain am I none. +Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest I never injured thee +But love thee better than thou canst devise +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love. +And so, good Capulet, which name I tender +As dearly as mine own, be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! +Alla stoccato carries it away. [He draws.] +Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO Good king of cats, nothing but one of your +nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as +you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher +by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT I am for you. [He draws.] + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.] + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons. +[Romeo draws.] +Gentlemen, for shame forbear this outrage! +Tybalt! Mercutio! The Prince expressly hath +Forbid this bandying in Verona streets. +Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio! +[Romeo attempts to beat down their rapiers. +Tybalt stabs Mercutio.] + +PETRUCHIO Away, Tybalt! +[Tybalt, Petruchio, and their followers exit.] + +MERCUTIO I am hurt. +A plague o' both houses! I am sped. +Is he gone and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page?--Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. +[Page exits.] + +ROMEO +Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as +a church door, but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve. Ask for +me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a +villain that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the +devil came you between us? I was hurt under your +arm. + +ROMEO I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me. +I have it, and soundly, too. Your houses! +[All but Romeo exit.] + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the Prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt +In my behalf. My reputation stained +With Tybalt's slander--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my cousin! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper softened valor's steel. + +[Enter Benvolio.] + + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead. +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend. +This but begins the woe others must end. + +[Enter Tybalt.] + + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now.-- +Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again +That late thou gavest me, for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company. +Either thou or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou wretched boy that didst consort him here +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO This shall determine that. +[They fight. Tybalt falls.] + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, begone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed. The Prince will doom thee death +If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away. + +ROMEO +O, I am Fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO Why dost thou stay? +[Romeo exits.] + +[Enter Citizens.] + + +CITIZEN +Which way ran he that killed Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +CITIZEN, [to Tybalt] Up, sir, go with me. +I charge thee in the Prince's name, obey. + +[Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wives and all.] + + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl. +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin, O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! Husband! O, the blood is spilled +Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay-- +Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure. All this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity +Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud +"Hold, friends! Friends, part!" and swifter than his +tongue +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertained revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for ere I +Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain, +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague. +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true. +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give. +Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio. +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, Prince; he was Mercutio's friend. +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE And for that offense +Immediately we do exile him hence. +I have an interest in your hearts' proceeding: +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding. +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine. +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses. +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses. +Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he is found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will. +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. +[They exit, the Capulet men +bearing off Tybalt's body.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Juliet alone.] + + +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging. Such a wagoner +As Phaeton would whip you to the west +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties, or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match +Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods. +Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle till strange love grow bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night. Come, Romeo. Come, thou day in +night, +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back. +Come, gentle night; come, loving black-browed +night, +Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love +But not possessed it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. + +[Enter Nurse with cords.] + +O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.-- +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? The +cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +NURSE Ay, ay, the cords. +[Dropping the rope ladder.] + +JULIET +Ay me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands? + +NURSE +Ah weraday, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone. +Alack the day, he's gone, he's killed, he's dead. + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +NURSE Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo, +Whoever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roared in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but "Ay," +And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. +I am not I if there be such an "I," +Or those eyes shut that makes thee answer "Ay." +If he be slain, say "Ay," or if not, "No." +Brief sounds determine my weal or woe. + +NURSE +I saw the wound. I saw it with mine eyes +(God save the mark!) here on his manly breast-- +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse, +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood, +All in gore blood. I swooned at the sight. + +JULIET +O break, my heart, poor bankrout, break at once! +To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty. +Vile earth to earth resign; end motion here, +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier. + +NURSE +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman, +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughtered and is Tybalt dead? +My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom, +For who is living if those two are gone? + +NURSE +Tybalt is gone and Romeo banished. +Romeo that killed him--he is banished. + +JULIET +O God, did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +NURSE +It did, it did, alas the day, it did. + +JULIET +O serpent heart hid with a flow'ring face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical! +Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honorable villain. +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +NURSE There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men. All perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vitae. +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me +old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET Blistered be thy tongue +For such a wish! He was not born to shame. +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit, +For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned +Sole monarch of the universal Earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +NURSE +Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy +name +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have killed my husband. +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain, +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my +husband. +All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murdered me. I would forget it fain, +But, O, it presses to my memory +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +"Tybalt is dead and Romeo banished." +That "banished," that one word "banished," +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough if it had ended there; +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be ranked with other griefs, +Why followed not, when she said "Tybalt's dead," +"Thy father" or "thy mother," nay, or both, +Which modern lamentation might have moved? +But with a rearward following Tybalt's death, +"Romeo is banished." To speak that word +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. "Romeo is banished." +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death. No words can that woe sound. +Where is my father and my mother, nurse? + +NURSE +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse. +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be +spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.-- +Take up those cords. +[The Nurse picks up the rope ladder.] +Poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled. +He made you for a highway to my bed, +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords--come, nurse. I'll to my wedding bed, +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +NURSE +Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo +To comfort you. I wot well where he is. +Hark you, your Romeo will be here at night. +I'll to him. He is hid at Lawrence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! [Giving the Nurse a ring.] +Give this ring to my true knight +And bid him come to take his last farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Friar Lawrence.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man. +Affliction is enamored of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +[Enter Romeo.] + + +ROMEO +Father, what news? What is the Prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company. +I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than doomsday is the Prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +A gentler judgment vanished from his lips: +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say "death," +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death. Do not say "banishment." + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Here from Verona art thou banished. +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence "banished" is "banished from the world," +And world's exile is death. Then "banished" +Is death mistermed. Calling death "banished," +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden ax +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +O deadly sin, O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rushed aside the law +And turned that black word "death" to +"banishment." +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture and not mercy. Heaven is here +Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her, +But Romeo may not. More validity, +More honorable state, more courtship lives +In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished. +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly. +They are free men, but I am banished. +And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground +knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But "banished" to kill me? "Banished"? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell. +Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin absolver, and my friend professed, +To mangle me with that word "banished"? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +I'll give thee armor to keep off that word, +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet "banished"? Hang up philosophy. +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me, and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy +hair +And fall upon the ground as I do now, +[Romeo throws himself down.] +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. +[Knock within.] + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Arise. One knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mistlike, enfold me from the search of eyes. +[Knock.] + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Hark, how they knock!--Who's there?--Romeo, +arise. +Thou wilt be taken.--Stay awhile.--Stand up. +[Knock.] +Run to my study.--By and by.--God's will, +What simpleness is this?--I come, I come. +[Knock.] +Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's +your will? + +NURSE, [within] +Let me come in, and you shall know my errand. +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE, [admitting the Nurse] +Welcome, then. + +[Enter Nurse.] + + +NURSE +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where's my lady's lord? Where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made +drunk. + +NURSE +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case. O woeful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubb'ring.-- +Stand up, stand up. Stand an you be a man. +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand. +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO Nurse. + +NURSE +Ah sir, ah sir, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO, [rising up] +Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her? +Doth not she think me an old murderer, +Now I have stained the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? And how doth she? And what says +My concealed lady to our canceled love? + +NURSE +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps, +And now falls on her bed, and then starts up, +And "Tybalt" calls, and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her, as that name's cursed hand +Murdered her kinsman.--O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. [He draws his dagger.] + +FRIAR LAWRENCE Hold thy desperate hand! +Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art. +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast. +Unseemly woman in a seeming man, +And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me. By my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better tempered. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself, +And slay thy lady that in thy life lives, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth, +Since birth and heaven and earth all three do meet +In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose? +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit, +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valor of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismembered with thine own defense. +What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead: +There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slewest Tybalt: there art thou happy. +The law that threatened death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile: there art thou happy. +A pack of blessings light upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pouts upon thy fortune and thy love. +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed. +Ascend her chamber. Hence and comfort her. +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua, +Where thou shalt live till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.-- +Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady, +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. +Romeo is coming. + +NURSE +O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night +To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!-- +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +NURSE +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir. +[Nurse gives Romeo a ring.] +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. +[She exits.] + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Go hence, good night--and here stands all your +state: +Either be gone before the watch be set +Or by the break of day disguised from hence. +Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here. +Give me thy hand. 'Tis late. Farewell. Good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief so brief to part with thee. +Farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris.] + + +CAPULET +Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily +That we have had no time to move our daughter. +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I. Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late. She'll not come down tonight. +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been abed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no times to woo.-- +Madam, good night. Commend me to your +daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early tomorrow. +Tonight she's mewed up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love. I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me. Nay, more, I doubt it not.-- +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed. +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love, +And bid her--mark you me?--on Wednesday +next-- +But soft, what day is this? + +PARIS Monday, my lord. + +CAPULET +Monday, ha ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. +O' Thursday let it be.--O' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl.-- +Will you be ready? Do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado: a friend or two. +For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much. +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow. + +CAPULET +Well, get you gone. O' Thursday be it, then. +[To Lady Capulet.] Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed. +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day.-- +Farewell, my lord.--Light to my chamber, ho!-- +Afore me, it is so very late that we +May call it early by and by.--Good night. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft.] + + +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. +Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I. +It is some meteor that the sun exhaled +To be to thee this night a torchbearer +And light thee on thy way to Mantua. +Therefore stay yet. Thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death. +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye; +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow. +Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads. +I have more care to stay than will to go. +Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so. +How is 't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division. +This doth not so, for she divideth us. +Some say the lark and loathed toad changed eyes. +O, now I would they had changed voices too, +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day. +O, now begone. More light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light, more dark and dark our woes. + +[Enter Nurse.] + + +NURSE Madam. + +JULIET Nurse? + +NURSE +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber. +The day is broke; be wary; look about. [She exits.] + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell. One kiss and I'll descend. +[They kiss, and Romeo descends.] + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days. +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo. + +ROMEO Farewell. +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our times to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb. +Either my eyesight fails or thou lookest pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you. +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu. [He exits.] + +JULIET +O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle. +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him +That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, Fortune, +For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +[Enter Lady Capulet.] + + +LADY CAPULET Ho, daughter, are you up? + +JULIET +Who is 't that calls? It is my lady mother. +Is she not down so late or up so early? +What unaccustomed cause procures her hither? +[Juliet descends.] + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet? + +JULIET Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live. +Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of +love, +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET Feeling so the loss, +I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death +As that the villain lives which slaughtered him. + +JULIET +What villain, madam? + +LADY CAPULET That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET, [aside] +Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God pardon him. I do with all my heart, +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not. +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banished runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company. +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart, so for a kinsman vexed. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it, +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named and cannot come to him +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that hath slaughtered him. + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time. +What are they, beseech your Ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child, +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy +That thou expects not, nor I looked not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time! What day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn +The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride! +I wonder at this haste, that I must wed +Ere he that should be husband comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet, and when I do I swear +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +[Enter Capulet and Nurse.] + + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the earth doth drizzle dew, +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now, a conduit, girl? What, still in tears? +Evermore show'ring? In one little body +Thou counterfeits a bark, a sea, a wind. +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds thy sighs, +Who, raging with thy tears and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body.--How now, wife? +Have you delivered to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir, but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave. + +CAPULET +Soft, take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How, will she none? Doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blessed, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bride? + +JULIET +Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. +Proud can I never be of what I hate, +But thankful even for hate that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How, how, how, how? Chopped logic? What is this? +"Proud," and "I thank you," and "I thank you not," +And yet "not proud"? Mistress minion you, +Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage! +You tallow face! + +LADY CAPULET Fie, fie, what, are you mad? + +JULIET, [kneeling] +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face. +Speak not; reply not; do not answer me. +My fingers itch.--Wife, we scarce thought us +blessed +That God had lent us but this only child, +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her. +Out on her, hilding. + +NURSE God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue. +Good Prudence, smatter with your gossips, go. + +NURSE +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET O, God 'i' g' eden! + +NURSE +May not one speak? + +CAPULET Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET You are too hot. + +CAPULET God's bread, it makes me mad. +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her matched. And having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly ligned, +Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts, +Proportioned as one's thought would wish a man-- +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer "I'll not wed. I cannot love. +I am too young. I pray you, pardon me." +But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you! +Graze where you will, you shall not house with me. +Look to 't; think on 't. I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near. Lay hand on heart; advise. +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend. +An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good. +Trust to 't; bethink you. I'll not be forsworn. +[He exits.] + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds +That sees into the bottom of my grief?-- +O sweet my mother, cast me not away. +Delay this marriage for a month, a week, +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word. +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. +[She exits.] + +JULIET, [rising] +O God! O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on Earth, my faith in heaven. +How shall that faith return again to Earth +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving Earth? Comfort me; counsel me.-- +Alack, alack, that heaven should practice stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself.-- +What sayst thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +NURSE Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you, +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the County. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first, or, if it did not, +Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speak'st thou from thy heart? + +NURSE +And from my soul too, else beshrew them both. + +JULIET Amen. + +NURSE What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much. +Go in and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Lawrence' cell +To make confession and to be absolved. + +NURSE +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. [She exits.] + +JULIET +Ancient damnation, O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counselor. +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the Friar to know his remedy. +If all else fail, myself have power to die. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Friar Lawrence and County Paris.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +On Thursday, sir? The time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so, +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind? +Uneven is the course. I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk of love, +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she do give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage +To stop the inundation of her tears, +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society. +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE, [aside] +I would I knew not why it should be slowed.-- +Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell. + +[Enter Juliet.] + + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife. + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That "may be" must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will you, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price +Being spoke behind your back than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that, +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth, +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slandered it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own.-- +Are you at leisure, holy father, now, +Or shall I come to you at evening Mass? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.-- +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion!-- +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you. +Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss. [He exits.] + +JULIET +O, shut the door, and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me, past hope, past care, past help. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +O Juliet, I already know thy grief. +It strains me past the compass of my wits. +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this County. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hearest of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it. +If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +[She shows him her knife.] +God joined my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo's sealed, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both. +Therefore out of thy long-experienced time +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honor bring. +Be not so long to speak. I long to die +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Hold, daughter, I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That cop'st with death himself to 'scape from it; +And if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of any tower, +Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk +Where serpents are. Chain me with roaring bears, +Or hide me nightly in a charnel house, +O'ercovered quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls. +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud +(Things that to hear them told have made me +tremble), +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstained wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Hold, then. Go home; be merry; give consent +To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow. +Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not the Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber. +[Holding out a vial.] +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilling liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humor; for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease. +No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest. +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall +Like death when he shuts up the day of life. +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death, +And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead. +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncovered on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the meantime, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come, and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame, +If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear +Abate thy valor in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAWRENCE, [giving Juliet the vial] +Hold, get you gone. Be strong and prosperous +In this resolve. I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength, and strength shall help +afford. +Farewell, dear father. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Servingmen, +two or three.] + + +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. +[One or two of the Servingmen exit +with Capulet's list.] +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +SERVINGMAN You shall have none ill, sir, for I'll try if +they can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET How canst thou try them so? + +SERVINGMAN Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick +his own fingers. Therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET Go, begone. [Servingman exits.] +We shall be much unfurnished for this time.-- +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Lawrence? + +NURSE Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her. +A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. + +[Enter Juliet.] + + +NURSE +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong, where have you been +gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learned me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoined +By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here [Kneeling.] +To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you. +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the County. Go tell him of this. +I'll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on 't. This is well. Stand up. +[Juliet rises.] +This is as 't should be.--Let me see the County. +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.-- +Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar, +All our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me tomorrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday. There is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse. Go with her. We'll to church tomorrow. +[Juliet and the Nurse exit.] + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision. +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife. +Go thou to Juliet. Help to deck up her. +I'll not to bed tonight. Let me alone. +I'll play the housewife for this once.--What ho!-- +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare up him +Against tomorrow. My heart is wondrous light +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Juliet and Nurse.] + + +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best. But, gentle nurse, +I pray thee leave me to myself tonight, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou knowest, is cross and full of sin. + +[Enter Lady Capulet.] + + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam, we have culled such necessaries +As are behooveful for our state tomorrow. +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the Nurse this night sit up with you, +For I am sure you have your hands full all +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET Good night. +Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. +[Lady Capulet and the Nurse exit.] + +JULIET +Farewell.--God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins +That almost freezes up the heat of life. +I'll call them back again to comfort me.-- +Nurse!--What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. [She takes out the vial.] +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then tomorrow morning? +[She takes out her knife +and puts it down beside her.] +No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there. +What if it be a poison which the Friar +Subtly hath ministered to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonored +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is. And yet methinks it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? There's a fearful point. +Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle +Where for this many hundred years the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed; +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears, +And madly play with my forefathers' joints, +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud, +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desp'rate brains? +O look, methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point! Stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Here's drink. I drink to +thee. [She drinks and falls upon her bed +within the curtains.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.] + + +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +NURSE +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +[Enter old Capulet.] + + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crowed. +The curfew bell hath rung. 'Tis three o'clock.-- +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica. +Spare not for cost. + +NURSE Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed. Faith, you'll be sick tomorrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit. What, I have watched ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time, +But I will watch you from such watching now. +[Lady Capulet and Nurse exit.] + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +[Enter three or four Servingmen with spits and logs +and baskets.] + +Now fellow, +What is there? + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. [First Servingman exits.] +Sirrah, fetch drier logs. +Call Peter. He will show thee where they are. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said. A merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be loggerhead. +[Second Servingman exits.] +Good faith, 'tis day. +The County will be here with music straight, +[Play music.] +For so he said he would. I hear him near.-- +Nurse!--Wife! What ho!--What, nurse, I say! + +[Enter Nurse.] + +Go waken Juliet. Go and trim her up. +I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste, +Make haste. The bridegroom he is come already. +Make haste, I say. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= + +NURSE, [approaching the bed] +Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet!--Fast, I warrant +her, she-- +Why, lamb, why, lady! Fie, you slugabed! +Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride!-- +What, not a word?--You take your pennyworths +now. +Sleep for a week, for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest +That you shall rest but little.--God forgive me, +Marry, and amen! How sound is she asleep! +I needs must wake her.--Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the County take you in your bed, +He'll fright you up, i' faith.--Will it not be? +[She opens the bed's curtains.] +What, dressed, and in your clothes, and down +again? +I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady!-- +Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead.-- +O, weraday, that ever I was born!-- +Some aqua vitae, ho!--My lord! My lady! + +[Enter Lady Capulet.] + + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +NURSE O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +NURSE Look, look!--O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee. +Help, help! Call help. + +[Enter Capulet.] + + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her lord is come. + +NURSE +She's dead, deceased. She's dead, alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead. + +CAPULET +Ha, let me see her! Out, alas, she's cold. +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff. +Life and these lips have long been separated. +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +NURSE +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET O woeful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak. + +[Enter Friar Lawrence and the County Paris, with +Musicians.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return.-- +O son, the night before thy wedding day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law; Death is my heir. +My daughter he hath wedded. I will die +And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labor of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catched it from my sight! + +NURSE +O woe, O woeful, woeful, woeful day! +Most lamentable day, most woeful day +That ever, ever I did yet behold! +O day, O day, O day, O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this! +O woeful day, O woeful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguiled, +By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! Not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyred, killed! +Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! My soul and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack, my child is dead, +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid. Now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid. +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion, +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced; +And weep you now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love you love your child so ill +That you run mad, seeing that she is well. +She's not well married that lives married long, +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse, and, as the custom is, +And in her best array, bear her to church, +For though fond nature bids us all lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival +Turn from their office to black funeral: +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him, +And go, Sir Paris. Everyone prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave. +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill. +Move them no more by crossing their high will. +[All but the Nurse and the Musicians exit.] + +FIRST MUSICIAN +Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone. + +NURSE +Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up, +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +FIRST MUSICIAN +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. +[Nurse exits.] + +[Enter Peter.] + + +PETER Musicians, O musicians, "Heart's ease," +"Heart's ease." O, an you will have me live, play +"Heart's ease." + +FIRST MUSICIAN Why "Heart's ease?" + +PETER O musicians, because my heart itself plays "My +heart is full." O, play me some merry dump to +comfort me. + +FIRST MUSICIAN Not a dump, we. 'Tis no time to play +now. + +PETER You will not then? + +FIRST MUSICIAN No. + +PETER I will then give it you soundly. + +FIRST MUSICIAN What will you give us? + +PETER No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give +you the minstrel. + +FIRST MUSICIAN Then will I give you the +serving-creature. + +PETER Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crochets. I'll re you, I'll fa +you. Do you note me? + +FIRST MUSICIAN An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +SECOND MUSICIAN Pray you, put up your dagger and +put out your wit. + +PETER Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat +you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. +Answer me like men. +[Sings.] When griping griefs the heart doth wound + And doleful dumps the mind oppress, + Then music with her silver sound-- +Why "silver sound"? Why "music with her silver +sound"? What say you, Simon Catling? + +FIRST MUSICIAN Marry, sir, because silver hath a +sweet sound. + +PETER Prates.--What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +SECOND MUSICIAN I say "silver sound" because musicians +sound for silver. + +PETER Prates too.--What say you, James Soundpost? + +THIRD MUSICIAN Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER O, I cry you mercy. You are the singer. I will say +for you. It is "music with her silver sound" because +musicians have no gold for sounding: +[Sings.] Then music with her silver sound + With speedy help doth lend redress. +[He exits.] + +FIRST MUSICIAN What a pestilent knave is this same! + +SECOND MUSICIAN Hang him, Jack. Come, we'll in +here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Romeo.] + + +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, +And all this day an unaccustomed spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead +(Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to +think!) +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips +That I revived and was an emperor. +Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +[Enter Romeo's man Balthasar, in riding boots.] + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar? +Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How doth my Juliet? That I ask again, +For nothing can be ill if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well and nothing can be ill. +Her body sleeps in Capels' monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault +And presently took post to tell it you. +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it e'en so?--Then I deny you, stars!-- +Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses. I will hence tonight. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience. +Your looks are pale and wild and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO Tush, thou art deceived. +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the Friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO No matter. Get thee gone, +And hire those horses. I'll be with thee straight. +[Balthasar exits.] +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight. +Let's see for means. O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men. +I do remember an apothecary +(And hereabouts he dwells) which late I noted +In tattered weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples. Meager were his looks. +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones. +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuffed, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves, +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses +Were thinly scattered to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +"An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him." +O, this same thought did but forerun my need, +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-- +What ho, Apothecary! + +[Enter Apothecary.] + + +APOTHECARY Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor. +[He offers money.] +Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins, +That the life-weary taker may fall dead, +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +APOTHECARY +Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fearest to die? Famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back. +The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. +The world affords no law to make thee rich. +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +APOTHECARY +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty and not thy will. + +APOTHECARY, [giving him the poison] +Put this in any liquid thing you will +And drink it off, and if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO, [handing him the money] +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murder in this loathsome world +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not +sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +[Apothecary exits.] +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Friar John.] + + +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar, brother, ho! + +[Enter Friar Lawrence.] + + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John.-- +Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a barefoot brother out, +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Sealed up the doors and would not let us forth, +So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it--here it is again-- +[Returning the letter.] +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge, +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence. +Get me an iron crow and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [He exits.] + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Now must I to the monument alone. +Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake. +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents. +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come. +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Paris and his Page.] + + +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy. Hence and stand aloof. +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew trees lay thee all along, +Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground. +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread +(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves) +But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me +As signal that thou hearest something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee. Go. + +PAGE, [aside] +I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard. Yet I will adventure. +[He moves away from Paris.] + +PARIS, [scattering flowers] +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew +(O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones!) +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distilled by moans. +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. +[Page whistles.] +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way tonight, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What, with a torch? Muffle me, night, awhile. +[He steps aside.] + +[Enter Romeo and Balthasar.] + + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light. Upon thy life I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hearest or seest, stand all aloof +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death +Is partly to behold my lady's face, +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment. Therefore hence, begone. +But, if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I farther shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs. +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that. +[Giving money.] +Live and be prosperous, and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR, [aside] +For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout. +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. +[He steps aside.] + +ROMEO, [beginning to force open the tomb] +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And in despite I'll cram thee with more food. + +PARIS +This is that banished haughty Montague +That murdered my love's cousin, with which grief +It is supposed the fair creature died, +And here is come to do some villainous shame +To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him. +[Stepping forward.] +Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague. +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee. +Obey and go with me, for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed, and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man. +Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone. +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head +By urging me to fury. O, begone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself, +For I come hither armed against myself. +Stay not, begone, live, and hereafter say +A madman's mercy bid thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy commination +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy! +[They draw and fight.] + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. +[He exits.] + +PARIS +O, I am slain! If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb; lay me with Juliet. [He dies.] + +ROMEO +In faith, I will.--Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet. +Said he not so? Or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so?--O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave.-- +[He opens the tomb.] +A grave? O, no. A lantern, slaughtered youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light.-- +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred. +[Laying Paris in the tomb.] +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry, which their keepers call +A light'ning before death! O, how may I +Call this a light'ning?--O my love, my wife, +Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. +Thou art not conquered. Beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-- +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favor can I do to thee +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin.--Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that I still will stay with thee +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again. Here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh! Eyes, look your last. +Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O, you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death. +[Kissing Juliet.] +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark! +Here's to my love. [Drinking.] O true apothecary, +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. +[He dies.] + +[Enter Friar Lawrence with lantern, crow, and spade.] + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! How oft tonight +Have my old feet stumbled at graves!--Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Bliss be upon you. Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern, +It burneth in the Capels' monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir, and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE Who is it? + +BALTHASAR Romeo. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR I dare not, sir. +My master knows not but I am gone hence, +And fearfully did menace me with death +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +Stay, then. I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me. +O, much I fear some ill unthrifty thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE, [moving toward the tomb] +Romeo!-- +Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulcher? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolored by this place of peace? +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too? +And steeped in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET +O comfortable friar, where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +I hear some noise.--Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead, +And Paris, too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns. +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming. +Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. +[He exits.] +What's here? A cup closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.-- +O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after! I will kiss thy lips. +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make me die with a restorative. [She kisses him.] +Thy lips are warm! + +[Enter Paris's Page and Watch.] + + +FIRST WATCH Lead, boy. Which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O, happy dagger, +This is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die. +[She takes Romeo's dagger, stabs herself, and dies.] + +PAGE +This is the place, there where the torch doth burn. + +FIRST WATCH +The ground is bloody.--Search about the +churchyard. +Go, some of you; whoe'er you find, attach. +[Some watchmen exit.] +Pitiful sight! Here lies the County slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain this two days buried.-- +Go, tell the Prince. Run to the Capulets. +Raise up the Montagues. Some others search. +[Others exit.] +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie, +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +[Enter Watchmen with Romeo's man Balthasar.] + + +SECOND WATCH +Here's Romeo's man. We found him in the +churchyard. + +FIRST WATCH +Hold him in safety till the Prince come hither. + +[Enter Friar Lawrence and another Watchman.] + + +THIRD WATCH +Here is a friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps. +We took this mattock and this spade from him +As he was coming from this churchyard's side. + +FIRST WATCH +A great suspicion. Stay the Friar too. + +[Enter the Prince with Attendants.] + + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up +That calls our person from our morning rest? + +[Enter Capulet and Lady Capulet.] + + +CAPULET +What should it be that is so shrieked abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +O, the people in the street cry "Romeo," +Some "Juliet," and some "Paris," and all run +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +FIRST WATCH +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain, +And Romeo dead, and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new killed. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder +comes. + +FIRST WATCH +Here is a friar, and slaughtered Romeo's man, +With instruments upon them fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en, for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague, +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom. + +LADY CAPULET +O me, this sight of death is as a bell +That warns my old age to a sepulcher. + +[Enter Montague.] + + +PRINCE +Come, Montague, for thou art early up +To see thy son and heir now early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. +Grief of my son's exile hath stopped her breath. +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE, [seeing Romeo dead] +O thou untaught! What manners is in this, +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for awhile, +Till we can clear these ambiguities +And know their spring, their head, their true +descent, +And then will I be general of your woes +And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience.-- +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me, of this direful murder. +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAWRENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet, +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife. +I married them, and their stol'n marriage day +Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death +Banished the new-made bridegroom from this city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betrothed and would have married her perforce +To County Paris. Then comes she to me, +And with wild looks bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her (so tutored by my art) +A sleeping potion, which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo +That he should hither come as this dire night +To help to take her from her borrowed grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stayed by accident, and yesternight +Returned my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault, +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo. +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awakening, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes, and I entreated her come forth +And bear this work of heaven with patience. +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb, +And she, too desperate, would not go with me +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know, and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy. And if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed some hour before his time +Unto the rigor of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man.-- +Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death, +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +If I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter. I will look on it.-- +[He takes Romeo's letter.] +Where is the County's page, that raised the +watch?-- +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did. +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb, +And by and by my master drew on him, +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the Friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death; +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies?--Capulet, Montague, +See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love, +And I, for winking at your discords too, +Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punished. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand. +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE But I can give thee more, +For I will ray her statue in pure gold, +That whiles Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie, +Poor sacrifices of our enmity. + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings. +The sun for sorrow will not show his head. +Go hence to have more talk of these sad things. +Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. +[All exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/shakespeares-sonnets_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/shakespeares-sonnets_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60f30ff --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/shakespeares-sonnets_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2675 @@ +Sonnets +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/shakespeares-sonnets/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.0.1 + + + + +1 + +From fairest creatures we desire increase, +That thereby beauty's rose might never die, +But, as the riper should by time decease, +His tender heir might bear his memory. +But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, +Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, +Making a famine where abundance lies, +Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. +Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament +And only herald to the gaudy spring +Within thine own bud buriest thy content +And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding. + Pity the world, or else this glutton be-- + To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee. + +2 + +When forty winters shall besiege thy brow +And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, +Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, +Will be a tattered weed of small worth held. +Then being asked where all thy beauty lies, +Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, +To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes +Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise. +How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use +If thou couldst answer "This fair child of mine +Shall sum my count and make my old excuse," +Proving his beauty by succession thine. + This were to be new made when thou art old + And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold. + +3 + +Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest +Now is the time that face should form another, +Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, +Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. +For where is she so fair whose uneared womb +Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? +Or who is he so fond will be the tomb +Of his self-love, to stop posterity? +Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee +Calls back the lovely April of her prime; +So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, +Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time. + But if thou live remembered not to be, + Die single, and thine image dies with thee. + +4 + +Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend +Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? +Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend, +And being frank, she lends to those are free. +Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse +The bounteous largess given thee to give? +Profitless usurer, why dost thou use +So great a sum of sums yet canst not live? +For, having traffic with thyself alone, +Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive. +Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone, +What acceptable audit canst thou leave? + Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee, + Which used lives th' executor to be. + +5 + +Those hours that with gentle work did frame +The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell +Will play the tyrants to the very same +And that unfair which fairly doth excel; +For never-resting time leads summer on +To hideous winter and confounds him there, +Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, +Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness everywhere. +Then, were not summer's distillation left +A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, +Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft, +Nor it nor no remembrance what it was. + But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet, + Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet. + +6 + +Then let not winter's ragged hand deface +In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled. +Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place +With beauty's treasure ere it be self-killed. +That use is not forbidden usury +Which happies those that pay the willing loan; +That's for thyself to breed another thee, +Or ten times happier, be it ten for one. +Ten times thyself were happier than thou art +If ten of thine ten times refigured thee; +Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart, +Leaving thee living in posterity? + Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair + To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir. + +7 + +Lo, in the orient when the gracious light +Lifts up his burning head, each under eye +Doth homage to his new-appearing sight, +Serving with looks his sacred majesty; +And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill, +Resembling strong youth in his middle age, +Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still, +Attending on his golden pilgrimage. +But when from highmost pitch with weary car +Like feeble age he reeleth from the day, +The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are +From his low tract and look another way. + So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon, + Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son. + +8 + +Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly? +Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. +Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly, +Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy? +If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, +By unions married, do offend thine ear, +They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds +In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear. +Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, +Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, +Resembling sire and child and happy mother +Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing; + Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one, + Sings this to thee: "Thou single wilt prove none." + +9 + +Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye +That thou consum'st thyself in single life? +Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die, +The world will wail thee like a makeless wife; +The world will be thy widow and still weep +That thou no form of thee hast left behind, +When every private widow well may keep, +By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind. +Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend +Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it; +But beauty's waste hath in the world an end, +And, kept unused, the user so destroys it. + No love toward others in that bosom sits + That on himself such murd'rous shame commits. + +10 + +For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any, +Who for thyself art so unprovident. +Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, +But that thou none lov'st is most evident. +For thou art so possessed with murd'rous hate +That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire, +Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate +Which to repair should be thy chief desire. +O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind. +Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love? +Be as thy presence is, gracious and kind, +Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove. + Make thee another self for love of me, + That beauty still may live in thine or thee. + +11 + +As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st +In one of thine, from that which thou departest; +And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st +Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. +Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; +Without this, folly, age, and cold decay. +If all were minded so, the times should cease, +And threescore year would make the world away. +Let those whom nature hath not made for store, +Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish; +Look whom she best endowed she gave the more, +Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish. + She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby + Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die. + +12 + +When I do count the clock that tells the time +And see the brave day sunk in hideous night, +When I behold the violet past prime +And sable curls all silvered o'er with white; +When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, +Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, +And summer's green all girded up in sheaves +Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard; +Then of thy beauty do I question make +That thou among the wastes of time must go, +Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake +And die as fast as they see others grow; + And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defense + Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. + +13 + +O, that you were your self! But, love, you are +No longer yours than you yourself here live; +Against this coming end you should prepare, +And your sweet semblance to some other give. +So should that beauty which you hold in lease +Find no determination; then you were +Your self again after yourself's decease +When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear. +Who lets so fair a house fall to decay, +Which husbandry in honor might uphold +Against the stormy gusts of winter's day +And barren rage of death's eternal cold? + O, none but unthrifts, dear my love, you know. + You had a father; let your son say so. + +14 + +Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck, +And yet methinks I have astronomy-- +But not to tell of good or evil luck, +Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality; +Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, +Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, +Or say with princes if it shall go well +By oft predict that I in heaven find. +But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive, +And, constant stars, in them I read such art +As truth and beauty shall together thrive +If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert; + Or else of thee this I prognosticate: + Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date. + +15 + +When I consider everything that grows +Holds in perfection but a little moment, +That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows +Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; +When I perceive that men as plants increase, +Cheered and checked even by the selfsame sky, +Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, +And wear their brave state out of memory; +Then the conceit of this inconstant stay +Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, +Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay +To change your day of youth to sullied night; + And, all in war with Time for love of you, + As he takes from you, I engraft you new. + +16 + +But wherefore do not you a mightier way +Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time, +And fortify yourself in your decay +With means more blessed than my barren rhyme? +Now stand you on the top of happy hours, +And many maiden gardens, yet unset, +With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers, +Much liker than your painted counterfeit. +So should the lines of life that life repair +Which this time's pencil or my pupil pen +Neither in inward worth nor outward fair +Can make you live yourself in eyes of men. + To give away yourself keeps yourself still, + And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill. + +17 + +Who will believe my verse in time to come +If it were filled with your most high deserts? +Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb +Which hides your life and shows not half your parts. +If I could write the beauty of your eyes +And in fresh numbers number all your graces, +The age to come would say "This poet lies; +Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces." +So should my papers, yellowed with their age, +Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, +And your true rights be termed a poet's rage +And stretched meter of an antique song. + But were some child of yours alive that time, + You should live twice--in it and in my rhyme. + +18 + +Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? +Thou art more lovely and more temperate. +Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, +And summer's lease hath all too short a date. +Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, +And often is his gold complexion dimmed; +And every fair from fair sometime declines, +By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed. +But thy eternal summer shall not fade +Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, +Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, +When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. + So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, + So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. + +19 + +Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws +And make the Earth devour her own sweet brood; +Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, +And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood; +Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st +And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, +To the wide world and all her fading sweets. +But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: +O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow, +Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; +Him in thy course untainted do allow +For beauty's pattern to succeeding men. + Yet do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong, + My love shall in my verse ever live young. + +20 + +A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted +Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; +A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted +With shifting change, as is false women's fashion; +An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, +Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; +A man in hue all hues in his controlling, +Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth. +And for a woman wert thou first created, +Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting, +And by addition me of thee defeated +By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. + But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure, + Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure. + +21 + +So is it not with me as with that muse +Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, +Who heaven itself for ornament doth use +And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, +Making a couplement of proud compare +With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, +With April's firstborn flowers and all things rare +That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems. +O, let me, true in love, but truly write, +And then believe me, my love is as fair +As any mother's child, though not so bright +As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air. + Let them say more that like of hearsay well; + I will not praise that purpose not to sell. + +22 + +My glass shall not persuade me I am old +So long as youth and thou are of one date, +But when in thee Time's furrows I behold, +Then look I death my days should expiate. +For all that beauty that doth cover thee +Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, +Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me; +How can I then be elder than thou art? +O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary +As I not for myself but for thee will, +Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary +As tender nurse her babe from faring ill. + Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain. + Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again. + +23 + +As an unperfect actor on the stage +Who with his fear is put beside his part, +Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, +Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart; +So I for fear of trust forget to say +The perfect ceremony of love's rite, +And in mine own love's strength seem to decay, +O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might. +O, let my books be then the eloquence +And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, +Who plead for love and look for recompense +More than that tongue that more hath more expressed. + O, learn to read what silent love hath writ. + To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. + +24 + +Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled +Thy beauty's form in table of my heart; +My body is the frame wherein 'tis held, +And perspective it is best painter's art. +For through the painter must you see his skill +To find where your true image pictured lies, +Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still, +That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes. +Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done: +Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me +Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun +Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee. + Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art: + They draw but what they see, know not the heart. + +25 + +Let those who are in favor with their stars +Of public honor and proud titles boast, +Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, +Unlooked for joy in that I honor most. +Great princes' favorites their fair leaves spread +But as the marigold at the sun's eye, +And in themselves their pride lies buried, +For at a frown they in their glory die. +The painful warrior famoused for worth, +After a thousand victories once foiled, +Is from the book of honor razed quite, +And all the rest forgot for which he toiled. + Then happy I, that love and am beloved + Where I may not remove nor be removed. + +26 + +Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage +Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, +To thee I send this written embassage +To witness duty, not to show my wit; +Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine +May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it, +But that I hope some good conceit of thine +In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it; +Till whatsoever star that guides my moving +Points on me graciously with fair aspect, +And puts apparel on my tattered loving +To show me worthy of thy sweet respect. + Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee; + Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me. + +27 + +Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, +The dear repose for limbs with travel tired, +But then begins a journey in my head +To work my mind when body's work's expired. +For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, +Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, +And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, +Looking on darkness which the blind do see; +Save that my soul's imaginary sight +Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, +Which like a jewel hung in ghastly night +Makes black night beauteous and her old face new. + Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, + For thee and for myself no quiet find. + +28 + +How can I then return in happy plight +That am debarred the benefit of rest, +When day's oppression is not eased by night, +But day by night and night by day oppressed; +And each, though enemies to either's reign, +Do in consent shake hands to torture me, +The one by toil, the other to complain +How far I toil, still farther off from thee? +I tell the day to please him thou art bright +And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven; +So flatter I the swart complexioned night, +When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild'st the even. + But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, + And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger. + +29 + +When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, +I all alone beweep my outcast state, +And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, +And look upon myself and curse my fate, +Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, +Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, +Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, +With what I most enjoy contented least; +Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, +Haply I think on thee, and then my state, +Like to the lark at break of day arising +From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; + For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings + That then I scorn to change my state with kings. + +30 + +When to the sessions of sweet silent thought +I summon up remembrance of things past, +I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, +And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste; +Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, +For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, +And weep afresh love's long since canceled woe, +And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight. +Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, +And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er +The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, +Which I new pay as if not paid before. + But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, + All losses are restored and sorrows end. + +31 + +Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts +Which I by lacking have supposed dead, +And there reigns love and all love's loving parts, +And all those friends which I thought buried. +How many a holy and obsequious tear +Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye, +As interest of the dead, which now appear +But things removed that hidden in thee lie. +Thou art the grave where buried love doth live, +Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone, +Who all their parts of me to thee did give; +That due of many now is thine alone. + Their images I loved I view in thee, + And thou, all they, hast all the all of me. + +32 + +If thou survive my well-contented day +When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, +And shalt by fortune once more resurvey +These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, +Compare them with the bett'ring of the time, +And though they be outstripped by every pen, +Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme, +Exceeded by the height of happier men. +O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought: +"Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age, +A dearer birth than this his love had brought +To march in ranks of better equipage. + But since he died and poets better prove, + Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love." + +33 + +Full many a glorious morning have I seen +Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, +Kissing with golden face the meadows green, +Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy, +Anon permit the basest clouds to ride +With ugly rack on his celestial face, +And from the forlorn world his visage hide, +Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. +Even so my sun one early morn did shine +With all-triumphant splendor on my brow, +But, out alack, he was but one hour mine; +The region cloud hath masked him from me now. + Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; + Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth. + +34 + +Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day +And make me travel forth without my cloak, +To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, +Hiding thy brav'ry in their rotten smoke? +'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break +To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face, +For no man well of such a salve can speak +That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace. +Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief; +Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss. +Th' offender's sorrow lends but weak relief +To him that bears the strong offense's cross. + Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds, + And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds. + +35 + +No more be grieved at that which thou hast done. +Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; +Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, +And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. +All men make faults, and even I in this, +Authorizing thy trespass with compare, +Myself corrupting salving thy amiss, +Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are. +For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense-- +Thy adverse party is thy advocate-- +And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence. +Such civil war is in my love and hate + That I an accessary needs must be + To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me. + +36 + +Let me confess that we two must be twain +Although our undivided loves are one; +So shall those blots that do with me remain, +Without thy help, by me be borne alone. +In our two loves there is but one respect, +Though in our lives a separable spite, +Which though it alter not love's sole effect, +Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight. +I may not evermore acknowledge thee, +Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame, +Nor thou with public kindness honor me +Unless thou take that honor from thy name. + But do not so. I love thee in such sort + As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report. + +37 + +As a decrepit father takes delight +To see his active child do deeds of youth, +So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite, +Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. +For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, +Or any of these all, or all, or more, +Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit, +I make my love engrafted to this store. +So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised +Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give +That I in thy abundance am sufficed +And by a part of all thy glory live. + Look what is best, that best I wish in thee. + This wish I have, then ten times happy me. + +38 + +How can my muse want subject to invent +While thou dost breathe that pour'st into my verse +Thine own sweet argument, too excellent +For every vulgar paper to rehearse? +O, give thyself the thanks if aught in me +Worthy perusal stand against thy sight, +For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee +When thou thyself dost give invention light? +Be thou the tenth muse, ten times more in worth +Than those old nine which rhymers invocate; +And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth +Eternal numbers to outlive long date. + If my slight muse do please these curious days, + The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise. + +39 + +O, how thy worth with manners may I sing +When thou art all the better part of me? +What can mine own praise to mine own self bring, +And what is 't but mine own when I praise thee? +Even for this let us divided live +And our dear love lose name of single one, +That by this separation I may give +That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone. +O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove +Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave +To entertain the time with thoughts of love, +Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive, + And that thou teachest how to make one twain + By praising him here who doth hence remain. + +40 + +Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all. +What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? +No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; +All mine was thine before thou hadst this more. +Then, if for my love thou my love receivest, +I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest; +But yet be blamed if thou thyself deceivest +By willful taste of what thyself refusest. +I do forgive thy robb'ry, gentle thief, +Although thou steal thee all my poverty; +And yet love knows it is a greater grief +To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury. + Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows, + Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes. + +41 + +Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits +When I am sometime absent from thy heart, +Thy beauty and thy years full well befits, +For still temptation follows where thou art. +Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won; +Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed; +And when a woman woos, what woman's son +Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? +Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear, +And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth, +Who lead thee in their riot even there +Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth: + Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee, + Thine, by thy beauty being false to me. + +42 + +That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, +And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; +That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, +A loss in love that touches me more nearly. +Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye: +Thou dost love her because thou know'st I love her, +And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, +Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her. +If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain, +And losing her, my friend hath found that loss; +Both find each other, and I lose both twain, +And both for my sake lay on me this cross. + But here's the joy: my friend and I are one; + Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone. + +43 + +When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, +For all the day they view things unrespected; +But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee +And, darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. +Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright, +How would thy shadow's form form happy show +To the clear day with thy much clearer light +When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so! +How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made +By looking on thee in the living day, +When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade +Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! + All days are nights to see till I see thee, + And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me. + +44 + +If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, +Injurious distance should not stop my way, +For then, despite of space, I would be brought +From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. +No matter then although my foot did stand +Upon the farthest earth removed from thee, +For nimble thought can jump both sea and land +As soon as think the place where he would be. +But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, +To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, +But that, so much of earth and water wrought, +I must attend time's leisure with my moan; + Receiving nought by elements so slow + But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. + +45 + +The other two, slight air and purging fire, +Are both with thee, wherever I abide; +The first my thought, the other my desire, +These present-absent with swift motion slide. +For when these quicker elements are gone +In tender embassy of love to thee, +My life, being made of four, with two alone +Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy; +Until life's composition be recured +By those swift messengers returned from thee, +Who even but now come back again, assured +Of thy fair health, recounting it to me. + This told, I joy; but then, no longer glad, + I send them back again and straight grow sad. + +46 + +Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war +How to divide the conquest of thy sight. +Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar, +My heart mine eye the freedom of that right. +My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, +A closet never pierced with crystal eyes; +But the defendant doth that plea deny, +And says in him thy fair appearance lies. +To 'cide this title is impaneled +A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart, +And by their verdict is determined +The clear eyes' moiety and the dear heart's part, + As thus: mine eyes' due is thy outward part, + And my heart's right, thy inward love of heart. + +47 + +Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, +And each doth good turns now unto the other. +When that mine eye is famished for a look, +Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, +With my love's picture then my eye doth feast +And to the painted banquet bids my heart. +Another time mine eye is my heart's guest +And in his thoughts of love doth share a part. +So, either by thy picture or my love, +Thyself away are present still with me; +For thou no farther than my thoughts canst move, +And I am still with them, and they with thee; + Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight + Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight. + +48 + +How careful was I, when I took my way, +Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, +That to my use it might unused stay +From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust! +But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, +Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, +Thou best of dearest and mine only care +Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. +Thee have I not locked up in any chest, +Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art, +Within the gentle closure of my breast, +From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part; + And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear, + For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear. + +49 + +Against that time, if ever that time come, +When I shall see thee frown on my defects, +Whenas thy love hath cast his utmost sum, +Called to that audit by advised respects; +Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass +And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye, +When love, converted from the thing it was, +Shall reasons find of settled gravity; +Against that time do I ensconce me here +Within the knowledge of mine own desert, +And this my hand against myself uprear +To guard the lawful reasons on thy part. + To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws, + Since why to love I can allege no cause. + +50 + +How heavy do I journey on the way, +When what I seek, my weary travel's end, +Doth teach that ease and that repose to say +"Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend." +The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, +Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me, +As if by some instinct the wretch did know +His rider loved not speed, being made from thee. +The bloody spur cannot provoke him on +That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, +Which heavily he answers with a groan, +More sharp to me than spurring to his side; + For that same groan doth put this in my mind: + My grief lies onward and my joy behind. + +51 + +Thus can my love excuse the slow offense +Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed: +From where thou art, why should I haste me thence? +Till I return, of posting is no need. +O, what excuse will my poor beast then find +When swift extremity can seem but slow? +Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind; +In winged speed no motion shall I know. +Then can no horse with my desire keep pace; +Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made, +Shall neigh no dull flesh in his fiery race. +But love for love thus shall excuse my jade: + "Since from thee going he went willful slow, + Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go." + +52 + +So am I as the rich whose blessed key +Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, +The which he will not ev'ry hour survey, +For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. +Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, +Since seldom coming in the long year set, +Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, +Or captain jewels in the carcanet. +So is the time that keeps you as my chest, +Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide +To make some special instant special blessed +By new unfolding his imprisoned pride. + Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope, + Being had, to triumph, being lacked, to hope. + +53 + +What is your substance, whereof are you made, +That millions of strange shadows on you tend? +Since everyone hath, every one, one shade, +And you, but one, can every shadow lend. +Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit +Is poorly imitated after you; +On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set, +And you in Grecian tires are painted new. +Speak of the spring and foison of the year; +The one doth shadow of your beauty show, +The other as your bounty doth appear, +And you in every blessed shape we know. + In all external grace you have some part, + But you like none, none you, for constant heart. + +54 + +O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem +By that sweet ornament which truth doth give. +The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem +For that sweet odor which doth in it live. +The canker blooms have full as deep a dye +As the perfumed tincture of the roses, +Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly +When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; +But, for their virtue only is their show, +They live unwooed and unrespected fade, +Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; +Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made. + And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, + When that shall vade, by verse distils your truth. + +55 + +Not marble nor the gilded monuments +Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme, +But you shall shine more bright in these contents +Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time. +When wasteful war shall statues overturn, +And broils root out the work of masonry, +Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn +The living record of your memory. +'Gainst death and all oblivious enmity +Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room +Even in the eyes of all posterity +That wear this world out to the ending doom. + So, till the judgment that yourself arise, + You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes. + +56 + +Sweet love, renew thy force. Be it not said +Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, +Which but today by feeding is allayed, +Tomorrow sharpened in his former might. +So, love, be thou. Although today thou fill +Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness, +Tomorrow see again, and do not kill +The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness. +Let this sad int'rim like the ocean be +Which parts the shore where two contracted new +Come daily to the banks, that, when they see +Return of love, more blessed may be the view. + Or call it winter, which being full of care + Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare. + +57 + +Being your slave, what should I do but tend +Upon the hours and times of your desire? +I have no precious time at all to spend +Nor services to do till you require. +Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour +Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, +Nor think the bitterness of absence sour +When you have bid your servant once adieu. +Nor dare I question with my jealous thought +Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, +But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought +Save where you are how happy you make those. + So true a fool is love that in your will, + Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. + +58 + +That god forbid, that made me first your slave, +I should in thought control your times of pleasure, +Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, +Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure. +O, let me suffer, being at your beck, +Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty, +And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check +Without accusing you of injury. +Be where you list, your charter is so strong +That you yourself may privilege your time +To what you will; to you it doth belong +Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime. + I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, + Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well. + +59 + +If there be nothing new, but that which is +Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, +Which, laboring for invention, bear amiss +The second burden of a former child. +O, that record could with a backward look, +Even of five hundred courses of the sun, +Show me your image in some antique book, +Since mind at first in character was done, +That I might see what the old world could say +To this composed wonder of your frame; +Whether we are mended, or whe'er better they, +Or whether revolution be the same. + O, sure I am the wits of former days + To subjects worse have given admiring praise. + +60 + +Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, +So do our minutes hasten to their end, +Each changing place with that which goes before; +In sequent toil all forwards do contend. +Nativity, once in the main of light, +Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned, +Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, +And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. +Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth +And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, +Feeds on the rarities of Nature's truth, +And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. + And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, + Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand. + +61 + +Is it thy will thy image should keep open +My heavy eyelids to the weary night? +Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken +While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? +Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee +So far from home into my deeds to pry, +To find out shames and idle hours in me, +The scope and tenor of thy jealousy? +O, no. Thy love, though much, is not so great. +It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, +Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat +To play the watchman ever for thy sake. + For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, + From me far off, with others all too near. + +62 + +Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye +And all my soul and all my every part; +And for this sin there is no remedy, +It is so grounded inward in my heart. +Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, +No shape so true, no truth of such account, +And for myself mine own worth do define +As I all other in all worths surmount. +But when my glass shows me myself indeed +Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity, +Mine own self-love quite contrary I read; +Self so self-loving were iniquity. + 'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise, + Painting my age with beauty of thy days. + +63 + +Against my love shall be, as I am now, +With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn; +When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow +With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn +Hath traveled on to age's steepy night, +And all those beauties whereof now he's king +Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight, +Stealing away the treasure of his spring; +For such a time do I now fortify +Against confounding age's cruel knife, +That he shall never cut from memory +My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life. + His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, + And they shall live, and he in them still green. + +64 + +When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced +The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; +When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed +And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; +When I have seen the hungry ocean gain +Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, +And the firm soil win of the wat'ry main, +Increasing store with loss and loss with store; +When I have seen such interchange of state, +Or state itself confounded to decay, +Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, +That Time will come and take my love away. + This thought is as a death, which cannot choose + But weep to have that which it fears to lose. + +65 + +Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea +But sad mortality o'ersways their power, +How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, +Whose action is no stronger than a flower? +O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out +Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days, +When rocks impregnable are not so stout +Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? +O, fearful meditation! Where, alack, +Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid? +Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back, +Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? + O, none, unless this miracle have might, + That in black ink my love may still shine bright. + +66 + +Tired with all these, for restful death I cry: +As, to behold desert a beggar born, +And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, +And purest faith unhappily forsworn, +And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, +And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, +And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, +And strength by limping sway disabled, +And art made tongue-tied by authority, +And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill, +And simple truth miscalled simplicity, +And captive good attending captain ill. + Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, + Save that, to die, I leave my love alone. + +67 + +Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, +And with his presence grace impiety, +That sin by him advantage should achieve +And lace itself with his society? +Why should false painting imitate his cheek +And steal dead seeing of his living hue? +Why should poor beauty indirectly seek +Roses of shadow, since his rose is true? +Why should he live, now Nature bankrout is, +Beggared of blood to blush through lively veins, +For she hath no exchequer now but his, +And, proud of many, lives upon his gains? + O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had + In days long since, before these last so bad. + +68 + +Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, +When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, +Before these bastard signs of fair were borne, +Or durst inhabit on a living brow; +Before the golden tresses of the dead, +The right of sepulchers, were shorn away +To live a second life on second head, +Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay. +In him those holy antique hours are seen, +Without all ornament, itself and true, +Making no summer of another's green, +Robbing no old to dress his beauty new. + And him as for a map doth Nature store, + To show false art what beauty was of yore. + +69 + +Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view +Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend. +All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, +Utt'ring bare truth, even so as foes commend. +Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned, +But those same tongues that give thee so thine own +In other accents do this praise confound +By seeing farther than the eye hath shown. +They look into the beauty of thy mind, +And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds; +Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind, +To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds. + But why thy odor matcheth not thy show, + The soil is this, that thou dost common grow. + +70 + +That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, +For slander's mark was ever yet the fair. +The ornament of beauty is suspect, +A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. +So thou be good, slander doth but approve +Thy worth the greater, being wooed of time, +For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, +And thou present'st a pure unstained prime. +Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days, +Either not assailed, or victor being charged; +Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise +To tie up envy, evermore enlarged. + If some suspect of ill masked not thy show, + Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe. + +71 + +No longer mourn for me when I am dead +Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell +Give warning to the world that I am fled +From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell. +Nay, if you read this line, remember not +The hand that writ it, for I love you so +That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, +If thinking on me then should make you woe. +O, if, I say, you look upon this verse +When I, perhaps, compounded am with clay, +Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, +But let your love even with my life decay, + Lest the wise world should look into your moan + And mock you with me after I am gone. + +72 + +O, lest the world should task you to recite +What merit lived in me that you should love, +After my death, dear love, forget me quite, +For you in me can nothing worthy prove; +Unless you would devise some virtuous lie, +To do more for me than mine own desert, +And hang more praise upon deceased I +Than niggard truth would willingly impart. +O, lest your true love may seem false in this, +That you for love speak well of me untrue, +My name be buried where my body is +And live no more to shame nor me nor you. + For I am shamed by that which I bring forth, + And so should you, to love things nothing worth. + +73 + +That time of year thou mayst in me behold +When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang +Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, +Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. +In me thou see'st the twilight of such day +As after sunset fadeth in the west, +Which by and by black night doth take away, +Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. +In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire +That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, +As the death-bed whereon it must expire, +Consumed with that which it was nourished by. + This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, + To love that well which thou must leave ere long. + +74 + +But be contented when that fell arrest +Without all bail shall carry me away, +My life hath in this line some interest, +Which for memorial still with thee shall stay. +When thou reviewest this, thou dost review +The very part was consecrate to thee. +The earth can have but earth, which is his due; +My spirit is thine, the better part of me. +So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life, +The prey of worms, my body being dead, +The coward conquest of a wretch's knife, +Too base of thee to be remembered. + The worth of that is that which it contains, + And that is this, and this with thee remains. + +75 + +So are you to my thoughts as food to life, +Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; +And for the peace of you I hold such strife +As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found: +Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon +Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; +Now counting best to be with you alone, +Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure. +Sometime all full with feasting on your sight, +And by and by clean starved for a look; +Possessing or pursuing no delight +Save what is had or must from you be took. + Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, + Or gluttoning on all, or all away. + +76 + +Why is my verse so barren of new pride, +So far from variation or quick change? +Why with the time do I not glance aside +To new-found methods and to compounds strange? +Why write I still all one, ever the same, +And keep invention in a noted weed, +That every word doth almost tell my name, +Showing their birth and where they did proceed? +O, know, sweet love, I always write of you, +And you and love are still my argument; +So all my best is dressing old words new, +Spending again what is already spent. + For as the sun is daily new and old, + So is my love, still telling what is told. + +77 + +Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, +Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste; +The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear, +And of this book this learning mayst thou taste: +The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show, +Of mouthed graves will give thee memory; +Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know +Time's thievish progress to eternity. +Look what thy memory cannot contain +Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find +Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain, +To take a new acquaintance of thy mind. + These offices, so oft as thou wilt look, + Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book. + +78 + +So oft have I invoked thee for my muse +And found such fair assistance in my verse +As every alien pen hath got my use +And under thee their poesy disperse. +Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing +And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, +Have added feathers to the learned's wing +And given grace a double majesty. +Yet be most proud of that which I compile, +Whose influence is thine and born of thee. +In others' works thou dost but mend the style, +And arts with thy sweet graces graced be. + But thou art all my art and dost advance + As high as learning my rude ignorance. + +79 + +Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, +My verse alone had all thy gentle grace; +But now my gracious numbers are decayed, +And my sick muse doth give another place. +I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument +Deserves the travail of a worthier pen; +Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent +He robs thee of and pays it thee again. +He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word +From thy behavior; beauty doth he give +And found it in thy cheek. He can afford +No praise to thee but what in thee doth live. + Then thank him not for that which he doth say, + Since what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay. + +80 + +O, how I faint when I of you do write, +Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, +And in the praise thereof spends all his might, +To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame. +But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, +The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, +My saucy bark, inferior far to his, +On your broad main doth willfully appear. +Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat +Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride, +Or, being wracked, I am a worthless boat, +He of tall building and of goodly pride. + Then, if he thrive and I be cast away, + The worst was this: my love was my decay. + +81 + +Or I shall live your epitaph to make +Or you survive when I in earth am rotten. +From hence your memory death cannot take, +Although in me each part will be forgotten. +Your name from hence immortal life shall have, +Though I, once gone, to all the world must die. +The Earth can yield me but a common grave, +When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. +Your monument shall be my gentle verse, +Which eyes not yet created shall o'erread; +And tongues to be your being shall rehearse +When all the breathers of this world are dead. + You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen-- + Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men. + +82 + +I grant thou wert not married to my muse, +And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook +The dedicated words which writers use +Of their fair subject, blessing every book. +Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, +Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, +And therefore art enforced to seek anew +Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days. +And do so, love; yet when they have devised +What strained touches rhetoric can lend, +Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized +In true plain words by thy true-telling friend. + And their gross painting might be better used + Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused. + +83 + +I never saw that you did painting need +And therefore to your fair no painting set. +I found, or thought I found, you did exceed +The barren tender of a poet's debt. +And therefore have I slept in your report, +That you yourself, being extant, well might show +How far a modern quill doth come too short, +Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow. +This silence for my sin you did impute, +Which shall be most my glory, being dumb, +For I impair not beauty, being mute, +When others would give life and bring a tomb. + There lives more life in one of your fair eyes + Than both your poets can in praise devise. + +84 + +Who is it that says most, which can say more +Than this rich praise, that you alone are you, +In whose confine immured is the store +Which should example where your equal grew? +Lean penury within that pen doth dwell +That to his subject lends not some small glory, +But he that writes of you, if he can tell +That you are you, so dignifies his story. +Let him but copy what in you is writ, +Not making worse what nature made so clear, +And such a counterpart shall fame his wit, +Making his style admired everywhere. + You to your beauteous blessings add a curse, + Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse. + +85 + +My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still +While comments of your praise, richly compiled, +Reserve their character with golden quill +And precious phrase by all the muses filed. +I think good thoughts whilst other write good words, +And like unlettered clerk still cry amen +To every hymn that able spirit affords +In polished form of well-refined pen. +Hearing you praised, I say "'Tis so, 'tis true," +And to the most of praise add something more; +But that is in my thought, whose love to you, +Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before. + Then others for the breath of words respect, + Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect. + +86 + +Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, +Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you, +That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, +Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? +Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write +Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? +No, neither he, nor his compeers by night +Giving him aid, my verse astonished. +He, nor that affable familiar ghost +Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, +As victors of my silence cannot boast; +I was not sick of any fear from thence. + But when your countenance filled up his line, + Then lacked I matter; that enfeebled mine. + +87 + +Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing, +And like enough thou know'st thy estimate. +The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; +My bonds in thee are all determinate. +For how do I hold thee but by thy granting, +And for that riches where is my deserving? +The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, +And so my patent back again is swerving. +Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing, +Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; +So thy great gift, upon misprision growing, +Comes home again, on better judgment making. + Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter, + In sleep a king, but waking no such matter. + +88 + +When thou shalt be disposed to set me light +And place my merit in the eye of scorn, +Upon thy side against myself I'll fight +And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn. +With mine own weakness being best acquainted, +Upon thy part I can set down a story +Of faults concealed wherein I am attainted, +That thou, in losing me, shall win much glory; +And I by this will be a gainer too; +For bending all my loving thoughts on thee, +The injuries that to myself I do, +Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me. + Such is my love, to thee I so belong, + That, for thy right, myself will bear all wrong. + +89 + +Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, +And I will comment upon that offense; +Speak of my lameness and I straight will halt, +Against thy reasons making no defense. +Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, +To set a form upon desired change, +As I'll myself disgrace, knowing thy will; +I will acquaintance strangle and look strange, +Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue +Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell, +Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong +And haply of our old acquaintance tell. + For thee, against myself I'll vow debate, + For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate. + +90 + +Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now, +Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, +Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, +And do not drop in for an afterloss. +Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, +Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; +Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, +To linger out a purposed overthrow. +If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, +When other petty griefs have done their spite, +But in the onset come; so shall I taste +At first the very worst of fortune's might; + And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, + Compared with loss of thee will not seem so. + +91 + +Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, +Some in their wealth, some in their body's force, +Some in their garments, though newfangled ill, +Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; +And every humor hath his adjunct pleasure, +Wherein it finds a joy above the rest. +But these particulars are not my measure; +All these I better in one general best. +Thy love is better than high birth to me, +Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost, +Of more delight than hawks or horses be; +And having thee, of all men's pride I boast. + Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take + All this away, and me most wretched make. + +92 + +But do thy worst to steal thyself away, +For term of life thou art assured mine, +And life no longer than thy love will stay, +For it depends upon that love of thine. +Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs +When in the least of them my life hath end; +I see a better state to me belongs +Than that which on thy humor doth depend. +Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind, +Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie. +O, what a happy title do I find, +Happy to have thy love, happy to die! + But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? + Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not. + +93 + +So shall I live, supposing thou art true, +Like a deceived husband; so love's face +May still seem love to me, though altered new; +Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. +For there can live no hatred in thine eye; +Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. +In many's looks, the false heart's history +Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange. +But heaven in thy creation did decree +That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell; +Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be, +Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell. + How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow, + If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show. + +94 + +They that have power to hurt and will do none, +That do not do the thing they most do show, +Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, +Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, +They rightly do inherit heaven's graces +And husband nature's riches from expense; +They are the lords and owners of their faces, +Others but stewards of their excellence. +The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, +Though to itself it only live and die; +But if that flower with base infection meet, +The basest weed outbraves his dignity. + For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; + Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. + +95 + +How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame +Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, +Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! +O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! +That tongue that tells the story of thy days, +Making lascivious comments on thy sport, +Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise; +Naming thy name blesses an ill report. +O, what a mansion have those vices got +Which for their habitation chose out thee, +Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot, +And all things turns to fair that eyes can see! + Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; + The hardest knife ill used doth lose his edge. + +96 + +Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; +Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport. +Both grace and faults are loved of more and less; +Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort. +As on the finger of a throned queen +The basest jewel will be well esteemed, +So are those errors that in thee are seen +To truths translated and for true things deemed. +How many lambs might the stern wolf betray +If like a lamb he could his looks translate! +How many gazers mightst thou lead away +If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state! + But do not so. I love thee in such sort + As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report. + +97 + +How like a winter hath my absence been +From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! +What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen, +What old December's bareness everywhere! +And yet this time removed was summer's time, +The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, +Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, +Like widowed wombs after their lords' decease. +Yet this abundant issue seemed to me +But hope of orphans and unfathered fruit; +For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, +And thou away, the very birds are mute; + Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer + That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near. + +98 + +From you have I been absent in the spring, +When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, +Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, +That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him. +Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell +Of different flowers in odor and in hue +Could make me any summer's story tell, +Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew. +Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, +Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; +They were but sweet, but figures of delight, +Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. + Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away, + As with your shadow I with these did play. + +99 + +The forward violet thus did I chide: +"Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, +If not from my love's breath? The purple pride +Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells +In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed." +The lily I condemned for thy hand, +And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair; +The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, +One blushing shame, another white despair; +A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both, +And to his robb'ry had annexed thy breath; +But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth +A vengeful canker ate him up to death. + More flowers I noted, yet I none could see + But sweet or color it had stol'n from thee. + +100 + +Where art thou, muse, that thou forget'st so long +To speak of that which gives thee all thy might? +Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song, +Dark'ning thy power to lend base subjects light? +Return, forgetful muse, and straight redeem +In gentle numbers time so idly spent; +Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem +And gives thy pen both skill and argument. +Rise, resty muse; my love's sweet face survey +If Time have any wrinkle graven there. +If any, be a satire to decay +And make Time's spoils despised everywhere. + Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life; + So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife. + +101 + +O truant muse, what shall be thy amends +For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed? +Both truth and beauty on my love depends; +So dost thou too, and therein dignified. +Make answer, muse. Wilt thou not haply say +"Truth needs no color with his color fixed, +Beauty no pencil beauty's truth to lay; +But best is best if never intermixed"? +Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb? +Excuse not silence so, for 't lies in thee +To make him much outlive a gilded tomb +And to be praised of ages yet to be. + Then do thy office, muse; I teach thee how + To make him seem long hence as he shows now. + +102 + +My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming; +I love not less, though less the show appear. +That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming +The owner's tongue doth publish everywhere. +Our love was new, and then but in the spring, +When I was wont to greet it with my lays, +As Philomel in summer's front doth sing, +And stops his pipe in growth of riper days. +Not that the summer is less pleasant now +Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night, +But that wild music burdens every bough, +And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. + Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue, + Because I would not dull you with my song. + +103 + +Alack, what poverty my muse brings forth, +That, having such a scope to show her pride, +The argument all bare is of more worth +Than when it hath my added praise beside. +O, blame me not if I no more can write! +Look in your glass, and there appears a face +That overgoes my blunt invention quite, +Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace. +Were it not sinful, then, striving to mend, +To mar the subject that before was well? +For to no other pass my verses tend +Than of your graces and your gifts to tell. + And more, much more, than in my verse can sit + Your own glass shows you when you look in it. + +104 + +To me, fair friend, you never can be old, +For as you were when first your eye I eyed, +Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold +Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, +Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned +In process of the seasons have I seen, +Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned, +Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. +Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial hand, +Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; +So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, +Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived. + For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred: + Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead. + +105 + +Let not my love be called idolatry, +Nor my beloved as an idol show, +Since all alike my songs and praises be +To one, of one, still such, and ever so. +Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind, +Still constant in a wondrous excellence; +Therefore my verse, to constancy confined, +One thing expressing, leaves out difference. +"Fair, kind, and true" is all my argument, +"Fair, kind, and true," varying to other words; +And in this change is my invention spent, +Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords. + "Fair," "kind," and "true" have often lived alone, + Which three till now never kept seat in one. + +106 + +When in the chronicle of wasted time +I see descriptions of the fairest wights, +And beauty making beautiful old rhyme +In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, +Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, +Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, +I see their antique pen would have expressed +Even such a beauty as you master now. +So all their praises are but prophecies +Of this our time, all you prefiguring; +And, for they looked but with divining eyes, +They had not skill enough your worth to sing. + For we, which now behold these present days, + Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise. + +107 + +Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soul +Of the wide world dreaming on things to come +Can yet the lease of my true love control, +Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom. +The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured, +And the sad augurs mock their own presage; +Incertainties now crown themselves assured, +And peace proclaims olives of endless age. +Now with the drops of this most balmy time +My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, +Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, +While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes; + And thou in this shalt find thy monument + When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent. + +108 + +What's in the brain that ink may character +Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit? +What's new to speak, what now to register, +That may express my love or thy dear merit? +Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine, +I must each day say o'er the very same, +Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine, +Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name. +So that eternal love in love's fresh case +Weighs not the dust and injury of age, +Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place, +But makes antiquity for aye his page, + Finding the first conceit of love there bred, + Where time and outward form would show it dead. + +109 + +O, never say that I was false of heart, +Though absence seemed my flame to qualify; +As easy might I from myself depart +As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie. +That is my home of love. If I have ranged, +Like him that travels I return again, +Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, +So that myself bring water for my stain. +Never believe, though in my nature reigned +All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood, +That it could so preposterously be stained +To leave for nothing all thy sum of good. + For nothing this wide universe I call, + Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all. + +110 + +Alas, 'tis true, I have gone here and there +And made myself a motley to the view, +Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, +Made old offenses of affections new. +Most true it is that I have looked on truth +Askance and strangely; but by all above, +These blenches gave my heart another youth, +And worse essays proved thee my best of love. +Now all is done, have what shall have no end. +Mine appetite I never more will grind +On newer proof, to try an older friend, +A god in love, to whom I am confined. + Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, + Even to thy pure and most most loving breast. + +111 + +O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, +The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, +That did not better for my life provide +Than public means which public manners breeds. +Thence comes it that my name receives a brand; +And almost thence my nature is subdued +To what it works in, like the dyer's hand. +Pity me, then, and wish I were renewed, +Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink +Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection; +No bitterness that I will bitter think, +Nor double penance, to correct correction. + Pity me, then, dear friend, and I assure ye + Even that your pity is enough to cure me. + +112 + +Your love and pity doth th' impression fill +Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow; +For what care I who calls me well or ill, +So you o'ergreen my bad, my good allow? +You are my all the world, and I must strive +To know my shames and praises from your tongue; +None else to me, nor I to none alive, +That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong. +In so profound abysm I throw all care +Of others' voices that my adder's sense +To critic and to flatterer stopped are. +Mark how with my neglect I do dispense: + You are so strongly in my purpose bred + That all the world besides methinks are dead. + +113 + +Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind, +And that which governs me to go about +Doth part his function, and is partly blind, +Seems seeing, but effectually is out; +For it no form delivers to the heart +Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch; +Of his quick objects hath the mind no part, +Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch. +For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight, +The most sweet favor or deformed'st creature, +The mountain or the sea, the day or night, +The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature. + Incapable of more, replete with you, + My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue. + +114 + +Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you, +Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery? +Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true, +And that your love taught it this alchemy, +To make of monsters and things indigest +Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble, +Creating every bad a perfect best +As fast as objects to his beams assemble? +O, 'tis the first: 'tis flattery in my seeing, +And my great mind most kingly drinks it up. +Mine eye well knows what with his gust is greeing, +And to his palate doth prepare the cup. + If it be poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin + That mine eye loves it and doth first begin. + +115 + +Those lines that I before have writ do lie, +Even those that said I could not love you dearer; +Yet then my judgment knew no reason why +My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer. +But reckoning time, whose millioned accidents +Creep in 'twixt vows and change decrees of kings, +Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents, +Divert strong minds to th' course of alt'ring things-- +Alas, why, fearing of time's tyranny, +Might I not then say "Now I love you best," +When I was certain o'er incertainty, +Crowning the present, doubting of the rest? + Love is a babe. Then might I not say so, + To give full growth to that which still doth grow. + +116 + +Let me not to the marriage of true minds +Admit impediments. Love is not love +Which alters when it alteration finds +Or bends with the remover to remove. +O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark +That looks on tempests and is never shaken; +It is the star to every wand'ring bark, +Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. +Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks +Within his bending sickle's compass come; +Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, +But bears it out even to the edge of doom. + If this be error, and upon me proved, + I never writ, nor no man ever loved. + +117 + +Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all +Wherein I should your great deserts repay, +Forgot upon your dearest love to call, +Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day; +That I have frequent been with unknown minds, +And given to time your own dear-purchased right; +That I have hoisted sail to all the winds +Which should transport me farthest from your sight. +Book both my willfulness and errors down, +And on just proof surmise accumulate; +Bring me within the level of your frown, +But shoot not at me in your wakened hate, + Since my appeal says I did strive to prove + The constancy and virtue of your love. + +118 + +Like as to make our appetites more keen +With eager compounds we our palate urge; +As to prevent our maladies unseen +We sicken to shun sickness when we purge; +Even so, being full of your ne'er-cloying sweetness, +To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding; +And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness +To be diseased ere that there was true needing. +Thus policy in love, t' anticipate +The ills that were not, grew to faults assured, +And brought to medicine a healthful state +Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured. + But thence I learn, and find the lesson true: + Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you. + +119 + +What potions have I drunk of siren tears +Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within, +Applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears, +Still losing when I saw myself to win! +What wretched errors hath my heart committed, +Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never! +How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted +In the distraction of this madding fever! +O, benefit of ill! Now I find true +That better is by evil still made better; +And ruined love, when it is built anew, +Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater. + So I return rebuked to my content, + And gain by ills thrice more than I have spent. + +120 + +That you were once unkind befriends me now, +And for that sorrow which I then did feel +Needs must I under my transgression bow, +Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel. +For if you were by my unkindness shaken +As I by yours, you've passed a hell of time, +And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken +To weigh how once I suffered in your crime. +O, that our night of woe might have remembered +My deepest sense how hard true sorrow hits, +And soon to you as you to me then tendered +The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits! + But that your trespass now becomes a fee; + Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me. + +121 + +'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, +When not to be receives reproach of being, +And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed +Not by our feeling but by others' seeing. +For why should others' false adulterate eyes +Give salutation to my sportive blood? +Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, +Which in their wills count bad what I think good? +No, I am that I am; and they that level +At my abuses reckon up their own. +I may be straight though they themselves be bevel; +By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown, + Unless this general evil they maintain: + All men are bad and in their badness reign. + +122 + +Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain +Full charactered with lasting memory, +Which shall above that idle rank remain +Beyond all date, even to eternity-- +Or, at the least, so long as brain and heart +Have faculty by nature to subsist; +Till each to razed oblivion yield his part +Of thee, thy record never can be missed. +That poor retention could not so much hold, +Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score; +Therefore to give them from me was I bold, +To trust those tables that receive thee more. + To keep an adjunct to remember thee + Were to import forgetfulness in me. + +123 + +No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change. +Thy pyramids built up with newer might +To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; +They are but dressings of a former sight. +Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire +What thou dost foist upon us that is old, +And rather make them born to our desire +Than think that we before have heard them told. +Thy registers and thee I both defy, +Not wond'ring at the present nor the past; +For thy records and what we see doth lie, +Made more or less by thy continual haste. + This I do vow, and this shall ever be: + I will be true despite thy scythe and thee. + +124 + +If my dear love were but the child of state, +It might for fortune's bastard be unfathered, +As subject to time's love or to time's hate, +Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered. +No, it was builded far from accident; +It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls +Under the blow of thralled discontent, +Whereto th' inviting time our fashion calls. +It fears not policy, that heretic +Which works on leases of short-numbered hours, +But all alone stands hugely politic, +That it nor grows with heat nor drowns with showers. + To this I witness call the fools of time, + Which die for goodness who have lived for crime. + +125 + +Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy, +With my extern the outward honoring, +Or laid great bases for eternity, +Which proves more short than waste or ruining? +Have I not seen dwellers on form and favor +Lose all and more by paying too much rent, +For compound sweet forgoing simple savor, +Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent? +No, let me be obsequious in thy heart, +And take thou my oblation, poor but free, +Which is not mixed with seconds, knows no art +But mutual render, only me for thee. + Hence, thou suborned informer; a true soul + When most impeached stands least in thy control. + +126 + +O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power +Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour; +Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st +Thy lover's withering as thy sweet self grow'st. +If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, +As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back, +She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill +May Time disgrace, and wretched minutes kill. +Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure! +She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure. +Her audit, though delayed, answered must be, +And her quietus is to render thee. + +127 + +In the old age, black was not counted fair, +Or, if it were, it bore not beauty's name; +But now is black beauty's successive heir, +And beauty slandered with a bastard shame. +For since each hand hath put on nature's power, +Fairing the foul with art's false borrowed face, +Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, +But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. +Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black, +Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem +At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, +Sland'ring creation with a false esteem. + Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, + That every tongue says beauty should look so. + +128 + +How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st +Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds +With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st +The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, +Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap +To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, +Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, +At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand. +To be so tickled they would change their state +And situation with those dancing chips, +O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, +Making dead wood more blest than living lips. + Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, + Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. + +129 + +Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame +Is lust in action; and, till action, lust +Is perjured, murd'rous, bloody, full of blame, +Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; +Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight; +Past reason hunted, and no sooner had, +Past reason hated as a swallowed bait +On purpose laid to make the taker mad. +Mad in pursuit and in possession so; +Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; +A bliss in proof and proved a very woe; +Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. + All this the world well knows, yet none knows well + To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. + +130 + +My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; +Coral is far more red than her lips' red; +If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; +If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. +I have seen roses damasked, red and white, +But no such roses see I in her cheeks; +And in some perfumes is there more delight +Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. +I love to hear her speak, yet well I know +That music hath a far more pleasing sound. +I grant I never saw a goddess go; +My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. + And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare + As any she belied with false compare. + +131 + +Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, +As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; +For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart +Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. +Yet in good faith some say that thee behold, +Thy face hath not the power to make love groan; +To say they err I dare not be so bold, +Although I swear it to myself alone. +And, to be sure that is not false I swear, +A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, +One on another's neck do witness bear +Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place. + In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, + And thence this slander as I think proceeds. + +132 + +Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, +Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, +Have put on black, and loving mourners be, +Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. +And truly not the morning sun of heaven +Better becomes the gray cheeks of the east, +Nor that full star that ushers in the even +Doth half that glory to the sober west +As those two mourning eyes become thy face. +O, let it then as well beseem thy heart +To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace, +And suit thy pity like in every part. + Then will I swear beauty herself is black, + And all they foul that thy complexion lack. + +133 + +Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan +For that deep wound it gives my friend and me. +Is 't not enough to torture me alone, +But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? +Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, +And my next self thou harder hast engrossed; +Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken, +A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed. +Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, +But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail. +Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; +Thou canst not then use rigor in my jail. + And yet thou wilt, for I, being pent in thee, + Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. + +134 + +So, now I have confessed that he is thine +And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, +Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine +Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still. +But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, +For thou art covetous, and he is kind; +He learned but surety-like to write for me +Under that bond that him as fast doth bind. +The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, +Thou usurer that put'st forth all to use, +And sue a friend came debtor for my sake; +So him I lose through my unkind abuse. + Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me. + He pays the whole, and yet am I not free. + +135 + +Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will, +And will to boot, and will in overplus. +More than enough am I that vex thee still, +To thy sweet will making addition thus. +Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious, +Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? +Shall will in others seem right gracious, +And in my will no fair acceptance shine? +The sea, all water, yet receives rain still, +And in abundance addeth to his store; +So thou, being rich in will, add to thy will +One will of mine to make thy large will more. + Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill. + Think all but one, and me in that one will. + +136 + +If thy soul check thee that I come so near, +Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy will, +And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there. +Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfill. +Will will fulfill the treasure of thy love, +Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. +In things of great receipt with ease we prove +Among a number one is reckoned none. +Then in the number let me pass untold, +Though in thy store's account I one must be. +For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold +That nothing me, a something, sweet, to thee. + Make but my name thy love, and love that still, + And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will. + +137 + +Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes +That they behold and see not what they see? +They know what beauty is, see where it lies, +Yet what the best is take the worst to be. +If eyes, corrupt by overpartial looks, +Be anchored in the bay where all men ride, +Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, +Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? +Why should my heart think that a several plot +Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? +Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not, +To put fair truth upon so foul a face? + In things right true my heart and eyes have erred, + And to this false plague are they now transferred. + +138 + +When my love swears that she is made of truth +I do believe her though I know she lies, +That she might think me some untutored youth, +Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. +Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, +Although she knows my days are past the best, +Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue; +On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed. +But wherefore says she not she is unjust? +And wherefore say not I that I am old? +O, love's best habit is in seeming trust, +And age in love loves not to have years told. + Therefore I lie with her and she with me, + And in our faults by lies we flattered be. + +139 + +O, call not me to justify the wrong +That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; +Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue; +Use power with power, and slay me not by art. +Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight, +Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside. +What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might +Is more than my o'erpressed defense can bide? +Let me excuse thee: ah, my love well knows +Her pretty looks have been mine enemies; +And therefore from my face she turns my foes, +That they elsewhere might dart their injuries. + Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, + Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain. + +140 + +Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press +My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain, +Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express +The manner of my pity-wanting pain. +If I might teach thee wit, better it were, +Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so, +As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, +No news but health from their physicians know. +For if I should despair, I should grow mad, +And in my madness might speak ill of thee. +Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, +Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be. + That I may not be so, nor thou belied, + Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide. + +141 + +In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, +For they in thee a thousand errors note; +But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, +Who in despite of view is pleased to dote. +Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted, +Nor tender feeling to base touches prone, +Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited +To any sensual feast with thee alone. +But my five wits nor my five senses can +Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, +Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man, +Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be. + Only my plague thus far I count my gain, + That she that makes me sin awards me pain. + +142 + +Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, +Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving. +O, but with mine compare thou thine own state, +And thou shalt find it merits not reproving. +Or if it do, not from those lips of thine, +That have profaned their scarlet ornaments +And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine, +Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents. +Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those +Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee; +Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows, +Thy pity may deserve to pitied be. + If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, + By self-example mayst thou be denied. + +143 + +Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch +One of her feathered creatures broke away, +Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch +In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, +Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, +Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent +To follow that which flies before her face, +Not prizing her poor infant's discontent; +So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee, +Whilst I, thy babe, chase thee afar behind. +But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me +And play the mother's part: kiss me, be kind. + So will I pray that thou mayst have thy will, + If thou turn back and my loud crying still. + +144 + +Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, +Which like two spirits do suggest me still. +The better angel is a man right fair, +The worser spirit a woman colored ill. +To win me soon to hell my female evil +Tempteth my better angel from my side, +And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, +Wooing his purity with her foul pride. +And whether that my angel be turned fiend +Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; +But being both from me, both to each friend, +I guess one angel in another's hell. + Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, + Till my bad angel fire my good one out. + +145 + +Those lips that Love's own hand did make +Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate" +To me that languished for her sake; +But when she saw my woeful state, +Straight in her heart did mercy come, +Chiding that tongue that ever sweet +Was used in giving gentle doom, +And taught it thus anew to greet: +"I hate" she altered with an end +That followed it as gentle day +Doth follow night, who, like a fiend, +From heaven to hell is flown away. + "I hate" from hate away she threw, + And saved my life, saying "not you." + +146 + +Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth, +Pressed with these rebel powers that thee array, +Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, +Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? +Why so large cost, having so short a lease, +Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? +Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, +Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? +Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, +And let that pine to aggravate thy store. +Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; +Within be fed, without be rich no more. + So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, + And Death once dead, there's no more dying then. + +147 + +My love is as a fever, longing still +For that which longer nurseth the disease, +Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, +Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. +My reason, the physician to my love, +Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, +Hath left me, and I desperate now approve +Desire is death, which physic did except. +Past cure I am, now reason is past care, +And, frantic-mad with evermore unrest, +My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, +At random from the truth vainly expressed. + For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, + Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. + +148 + +O me, what eyes hath love put in my head, +Which have no correspondence with true sight! +Or if they have, where is my judgment fled, +That censures falsely what they see aright? +If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, +What means the world to say it is not so? +If it be not, then love doth well denote +Love's eye is not so true as all men's "no." +How can it? O, how can love's eye be true, +That is so vexed with watching and with tears? +No marvel then though I mistake my view; +The sun itself sees not till heaven clears. + O cunning love, with tears thou keep'st me blind, + Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find. + +149 + +Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not +When I against myself with thee partake? +Do I not think on thee when I forgot +Am of myself, all, tyrant, for thy sake? +Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? +On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon? +Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend +Revenge upon myself with present moan? +What merit do I in myself respect +That is so proud thy service to despise, +When all my best doth worship thy defect, +Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? + But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind; + Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind. + +150 + +O, from what power hast thou this powerful might +With insufficiency my heart to sway? +To make me give the lie to my true sight, +And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? +Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, +That in the very refuse of thy deeds +There is such strength and warrantise of skill +That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds? +Who taught thee how to make me love thee more, +The more I hear and see just cause of hate? +O, though I love what others do abhor, +With others thou shouldst not abhor my state. + If thy unworthiness raised love in me, + More worthy I to be beloved of thee. + +151 + +Love is too young to know what conscience is; +Yet who knows not conscience is born of love? +Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, +Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. +For, thou betraying me, I do betray +My nobler part to my gross body's treason. +My soul doth tell my body that he may +Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason, +But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee +As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, +He is contented thy poor drudge to be, +To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. + No want of conscience hold it that I call + Her "love," for whose dear love I rise and fall. + +152 + +In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, +But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing; +In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn +In vowing new hate after new love bearing. +But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee +When I break twenty? I am perjured most, +For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee, +And all my honest faith in thee is lost. +For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness, +Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; +And to enlighten thee gave eyes to blindness, +Or made them swear against the thing they see. + For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured eye, + To swear against the truth so foul a lie. + +153 + +Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep. +A maid of Dian's this advantage found, +And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep +In a cold valley-fountain of that ground, +Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love +A dateless lively heat, still to endure, +And grew a seething bath which yet men prove +Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. +But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new fired, +The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; +I, sick withal, the help of bath desired +And thither hied, a sad distempered guest, + But found no cure. The bath for my help lies + Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes. + +154 + +The little love-god, lying once asleep, +Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, +Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep +Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand +The fairest votary took up that fire, +Which many legions of true hearts had warmed; +And so the general of hot desire +Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarmed. +This brand she quenched in a cool well by, +Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual, +Growing a bath and healthful remedy +For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall, + Came there for cure, and this by that I prove: + Love's fire heats water; water cools not love. + + + +Two Sonnets from The Passionate Pilgrim + +The Passionate Pilgrime. +By W. Shakespeare. +London: for W. Iaggard, 1599. + +These are the first versions of these two sonnets to be printed. + + +[138] + +When my love swears that she is made of truth, +I do believe her, though I know she lies, +That she might think me some untutored youth, +Unskillful in the world's false forgeries. +Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, +Although I know my years be past the best, +I, smiling, credit her false-speaking tongue, +Outfacing faults in love with love's ill rest. +But wherefore says my love that she is young? +And wherefore say not I that I am old? +O, love's best habit is a soothing tongue, +And age in love loves not to have years told. + Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me, + Since that our faults in love thus smothered be. +[sig. A 3] + + +[144] + +Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, +That like two spirits do suggest me still. +My better angel is a man right fair, +My worser spirit a woman colored ill. +To win me soon to hell my female evil +Tempteth my better angel from my side, +And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, +Wooing his purity with her fair pride. +And whether that my angel be turned fiend +Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; +For being both to me, both to each friend, +I guess one angel in another's hell. + The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt, + Till my bad angel fire my good one out. +[sig. A 4] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-comedy-of-errors_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-comedy-of-errors_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..59999cc --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-comedy-of-errors_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3201 @@ +The Comedy of Errors +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-comedy-of-errors/ +Created on Oct 4, 2017, from FDT version 0.9.2.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +EGEON, a merchant from Syracuse +Solinus, DUKE of Ephesus +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, a traveler in search of his mother and his brother +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, Antipholus of Syracuse's servant +FIRST MERCHANT, a citizen of Ephesus +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, a citizen of Ephesus +DROMIO OF EPHESUS, Antipholus of Ephesus's servant +ADRIANA, Antipholus of Ephesus's wife +LUCIANA, Adriana's sister +LUCE (also called Nell), kitchen maid betrothed to Dromio of Ephesus +MESSENGER, servant to Antipholus of Ephesus and Adriana +ANGELO, an Ephesian goldsmith +SECOND MERCHANT, a citizen of Ephesus to whom Angelo owes money +BALTHASAR, an Ephesian merchant invited to dinner by Antipholus of Ephesus +COURTESAN, hostess of Antipholus of Ephesus at dinner +DR. PINCH, a schoolmaster, engaged as an exorcist +OFFICER (also called Jailer), an Ephesian law officer +LADY ABBESS (also called Emilia), head of a priory in Ephesus +Attendants, Servants to Pinch, Headsman, Officers + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Solinus the Duke of Ephesus, with Egeon the +Merchant of Syracuse, Jailer, and other Attendants.] + + +EGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE +Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more. +I am not partial to infringe our laws. +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who, wanting guilders to redeem their lives, +Have sealed his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threat'ning looks. +For since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed, +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns. +Nay, more, if any born at Ephesus +Be seen at Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again, if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the Duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +EGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departedst from thy native home +And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus. + +EGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable; +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offense, +I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy. Our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamium, till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse; +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself--almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear-- +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons, +And, which was strange, the one so like the other +As could not be distinguished but by names. +That very hour, and in the selfsame inn, +A mean woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike. +Those, for their parents were exceeding poor, +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return. +Unwilling, I agreed. Alas, too soon +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamium had we sailed +Before the always-wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm; +But longer did we not retain much hope, +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death, +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourned for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us. +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fastened him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms. +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other. +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixed, +Fastened ourselves at either end the mast +And, floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapors that offended us, +And by the benefit of his wished light +The seas waxed calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far, making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this. +But ere they came--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE +Nay, forward, old man. Do not break off so, +For we may pity though not pardon thee. + +EGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily termed them merciless to us. +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encountered by a mighty rock, +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul, seeming as burdened +With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind, +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwracked guests, +And would have reft the fishers of their prey +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me severed from my bliss, +That by misfortunes was my life prolonged +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favor to dilate at full +What have befall'n of them and thee till now. + +EGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother, and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retained his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him, +Whom whilst I labored of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in farthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus, +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbors men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE +Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have marked +To bear the extremity of dire mishap, +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul should sue as advocate for thee. +But though thou art adjudged to the death, +And passed sentence may not be recalled +But to our honor's great disparagement, +Yet will I favor thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help. +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live. If no, then thou art doomed to die.-- +Jailer, take him to thy custody. + +JAILER I will, my lord. + +EGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Antipholus of Syracuse, First Merchant, and +Dromio of Syracuse.] + + +FIRST MERCHANT +Therefore give out you are of Epidamium, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here +And, not being able to buy out his life, +According to the statute of the town +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +[He gives money.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [handing money to Dromio] +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinnertime. +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word +And go indeed, having so good a mean. +[Dromio of Syracuse exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humor with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +FIRST MERCHANT +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit. +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bedtime. +My present business calls me from you now. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then. I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +FIRST MERCHANT +Sir, I commend you to your own content. [He exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself. +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +[Enter Dromio of Ephesus.] + +Here comes the almanac of my true date.-- +What now? How chance thou art returned so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Returned so soon? Rather approached too late! +The capon burns; the pig falls from the spit; +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek. +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach, having broke your fast. +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default today. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir. Tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O, sixpence that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humor now. +Tell me, and dally not: where is the money? +We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner. +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will scour your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your +clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season. +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? Why, you gave no gold to me! + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner. +My mistress and her sister stays for you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Now, as I am a Christian, answer me +In what safe place you have bestowed my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed. +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your Worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? What mistress, slave, hast +thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your Worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix, +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [beating Dromio] +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? For God's sake, hold your +hands. +Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. +[Dromio of Ephesus exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'erraught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many suchlike liberties of sin. +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur to go seek this slave. +I greatly fear my money is not safe. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus, with +Luciana, her sister.] + + +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave returned +That in such haste I sent to seek his master? +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine, and never fret. +A man is master of his liberty; +Time is their master, and when they see time +They'll go or come. If so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lashed with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound in earth, in sea, in sky. +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls +Are their males' subjects and at their controls. +Man, more divine, the master of all these, +Lord of the wide world and wild wat'ry seas, +Endued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords. +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practice to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some otherwhere? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! No marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul bruised with adversity +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry, +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more we should ourselves complain. +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience would relieve me; +But if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begged patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man. Now is your husband nigh. + +[Enter Dromio of Ephesus.] + + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, he's at two hands with me, +and that my two ears can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? Know'st thou his +mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear. +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA Spake he so doubtfully thou couldst not feel +his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, he struck so plainly I could +too well feel his blows, and withal so doubtfully +that I could scarce understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? +It seems he hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn mad, thou villain? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS I mean not cuckold mad, +But sure he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He asked me for a thousand marks in gold. +"'Tis dinnertime," quoth I. "My gold," quoth he. +"Your meat doth burn," quoth I. "My gold," quoth +he. +"Will you come?" quoth I. "My gold," quoth he. +"Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?" +"The pig," quoth I, "is burned." "My gold," quoth +he. +"My mistress, sir," quoth I. "Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress. Out on thy mistress!" + +LUCIANA Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Quoth my master. +"I know," quoth he, "no house, no wife, no +mistress." +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders, +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating. +Between you, I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant. Fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither. +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. +[He exits.] + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face. + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? Then he hath wasted it. +Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marred, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard. +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault; he's master of my state. +What ruins are in me that can be found +By him not ruined? Then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair. +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home. Poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy, fie, beat it hence. + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain. +Would that alone o' love he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed. +I see the jewel best enameled +Will lose his beauty. Yet the gold bides still +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold; yet no man that hath a name +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Antipholus of Syracuse.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur, and the heedful slave +Is wandered forth in care to seek me out. +By computation and mine host's report, +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +[Enter Dromio of Syracuse.] + +How now, sir? Is your merry humor altered? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? You received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? When spake I such a word? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur with the gold you gave me. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner, +For which I hope thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein. +What means this jest, I pray you, master, tell me? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that and that. +[Beats Dromio.] + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! Now your jest is earnest. +Upon what bargain do you give it me? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE "Sconce" call you it? So you +would leave battering, I had rather have it a +"head." An you use these blows long, I must get a +sconce for my head and ensconce it too, or else I +shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But I pray, sir, +why am I beaten? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Nothing, sir, but that I am +beaten. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Ay, sir, and wherefore, for they +say every why hath a wherefore. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE "Why" first: for flouting +me; and then "wherefore": for urging it the second +time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the "why" and the "wherefore" is neither +rhyme nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, for this something +that you gave me for nothing. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE I'll make you amends next, +to give you nothing for something. But say, sir, is it +dinnertime? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No, sir, I think the meat wants +that I have. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE In good time, sir, what's +that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Basting. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE If it be, sir, I pray you eat none of +it. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Lest it make you choleric and +purchase me another dry basting. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Well, sir, learn to jest in +good time. There's a time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I durst have denied that before +you were so choleric. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as +the plain bald pate of Father Time himself. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE There's no time for a man to +recover his hair that grows bald by nature. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE May he not do it by fine and +recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, +and recover the lost hair of another man. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why is Time such a niggard +of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Because it is a blessing that he +bestows on beasts, and what he hath scanted men +in hair, he hath given them in wit. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why, but there's many a +man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Not a man of those but he hath +the wit to lose his hair. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why, thou didst conclude +hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE The plainer dealer, the sooner +lost. Yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE For two, and sound ones too. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Sure ones, then. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Nay, not sure, in a thing +falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Certain ones, then. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE The one, to save the money that +he spends in tiring; the other, that at dinner they +should not drop in his porridge. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE You would all this time +have proved there is no time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, and did, sir: namely, e'en +no time to recover hair lost by nature. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE But your reason was not +substantial why there is no time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Thus I mend it: Time himself is +bald and therefore, to the world's end, will have +bald followers. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE I knew 'twould be a bald +conclusion. But soft, who wafts us yonder? + +[Enter Adriana, beckoning them, and Luciana.] + + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown. +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects. +I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savored in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or looked, or touched, or carved to +thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it +That thou art then estranged from thyself? +"Thyself" I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayst thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled thence that drop again +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch thee to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurn at me, +And hurl the name of husband in my face, +And tear the stained skin off my harlot brow, +And from my false hand cut the wedding ring, +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst, and therefore see thou do it. +I am possessed with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust; +For if we two be one, and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed, +I live distained, thou undishonored. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not. +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk, +Who, every word by all my wit being scanned, +Wants wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother, how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him: +That he did buffet thee and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest, for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names-- +Unless it be by inspiration? + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood. +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine. +[She takes his arm.] +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate. +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss, +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [aside] +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme. +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty +I'll entertain the offered fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +[He crosses himself.] +This is the fairy land. O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls, and sprites. +If we obey them not, this will ensue: +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why prat'st thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio--thou, Dromio--thou snail, thou slug, +thou sot. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true. She rides me, and I long for grass. +'Tis so. I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep +Whilst man and master laughs my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner.--Dromio, keep the gate.-- +Husband, I'll dine above with you today, +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +[To Dromio.] Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.-- +Come, sister.--Dromio, play the porter well. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [aside] +Am I in Earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking, mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say, and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay, and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio, Angelo +the goldsmith, and Balthasar the merchant.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours. +Say that I lingered with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that tomorrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house.-- +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know. +That you beat me at the mart I have your hand to +show; +If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave +were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick being kicked and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthasar. Pray God our cheer +May answer my goodwill and your good welcome +here. + +BALTHASAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome +dear. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +O Signior Balthasar, either at flesh or fish +A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty +dish. + +BALTHASAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common, for that's nothing but +words. + +BALTHASAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry +feast. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host and more sparing guest. +But though my cates be mean, take them in good +part. +Better cheer may you have, but not with better +heart. [He attempts to open the door.] +But soft! My door is locked. [To Dromio.] Go, bid +them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Ciceley, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door or sit down at the +hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for +such store +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the +door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch +cold on 's feet. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? Ho, open the door. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Right, sir, I'll tell you when an you'll tell me +wherefore. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? For my dinner. I have not dined today. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Nor today here you must not. Come again when you +may. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keep'st me out from the house I +owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +The porter for this time, sir, and my name is +Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain, thou hast stolen both mine office and my +name! +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle +blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio today in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name, or +thy name for an ass. + +[Enter Luce above, unseen by Antipholus of Ephesus +and his company.] + + +LUCE +What a coil is there, Dromio! Who are those at the +gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE Faith, no, he comes too late, +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS O Lord, I must laugh. +Have at you with a proverb: shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +Have at you with another: that's--When, can you +tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +If thy name be called "Luce," Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Luce] +Do you hear, you minion? You'll let us in, I hope? + +LUCE +I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come help. Well struck! There was blow for +blow. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Luce] +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE Let him knock till it ache. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. +[He beats on the door.] + +LUCE +What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the +town? + +[Enter Adriana, above, unseen by Antipholus of Ephesus +and his company.] + + +ADRIANA +Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly +boys. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? You might have come before. + +ADRIANA +Your wife, sir knave? Go, get you from the door. +[Adriana and Luce exit.] + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this knave would go +sore. + +ANGELO, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome. We would +fain have either. + +BALTHASAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with +neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master. Bid them welcome +hither. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get +in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were +thin. +Your cake here is warm within; you stand here in +the cold. +It would make a man mad as a buck to be so +bought and sold. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Go, fetch me something. I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's +pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words +are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not +behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +It seems thou want'st breaking. Out upon thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much "Out upon thee!" I pray thee, let +me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [within] +Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no +fin. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Dromio of Ephesus] +Well, I'll break in. Go, borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a +feather.-- +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow +together. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Go, get thee gone. Fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHASAR +Have patience, sir. O, let it not be so. +Herein you war against your reputation, +And draw within the compass of suspect +Th' unviolated honor of your wife. +Once this: your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years, and modesty +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown. +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me; depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it; +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +Forever housed where it gets possession. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed. I will depart in quiet +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty, wild and yet, too, gentle. +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal; +To her will we to dinner. [To Angelo.] Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this, I know, 'tis made. +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine, +For there's the house. That chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there. Good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +ANGELO +I'll meet you at that place some hour hence. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Do so. This jest shall cost me some expense. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Luciana with Antipholus of Syracuse.] + + +LUCIANA +And may it be that you have quite forgot + A husband's office? Shall, Antipholus, +Even in the spring of love thy love-springs rot? + Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous? +If you did wed my sister for her wealth, + Then for her wealth's sake use her with more + kindness. +Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth -- + Muffle your false love with some show of + blindness. +Let not my sister read it in your eye; + Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; +Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; + Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger. +Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted. + Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint. +Be secret-false. What need she be acquainted? + What simple thief brags of his own attaint? +'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed + And let her read it in thy looks at board. +Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed; + Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word. +Alas, poor women, make us but believe, + Being compact of credit, that you love us. +Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve; + We in your motion turn, and you may move us. +Then, gentle brother, get you in again. + Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife. +'Tis holy sport to be a little vain + When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Sweet mistress--what your name is else I know not, + Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine-- +Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not + Than our Earth's wonder, more than Earth divine. +Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak. + Lay open to my earthy gross conceit, +Smothered in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, + The folded meaning of your words' deceit. +Against my soul's pure truth why labor you + To make it wander in an unknown field? +Are you a god? Would you create me new? + Transform me, then, and to your power I'll yield. +But if that I am I, then well I know + Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, +Nor to her bed no homage do I owe. + Far more, far more, to you do I decline. +O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note + To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears. +Sing, Siren, for thyself, and I will dote. + Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, +And as a bed I'll take them and there lie, + And in that glorious supposition think +He gains by death that hath such means to die. + Let love, being light, be drowned if she sink. + +LUCIANA +What, are you mad that you do reason so? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Not mad, but mated--how, I do not know. + +LUCIANA +It is a fault that springeth from your eye. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by. + +LUCIANA +Gaze when you should, and that will clear your +sight. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night. + +LUCIANA +Why call you me "love"? Call my sister so. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Thy sister's sister. + +LUCIANA That's my sister. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE No, +It is thyself, mine own self's better part, +Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, +My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, +My sole Earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim. + +LUCIANA +All this my sister is, or else should be. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Call thyself "sister," sweet, for I am thee. +Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life; +Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife. +Give me thy hand. + +LUCIANA O soft, sir. Hold you still. +I'll fetch my sister to get her goodwill. [She exits.] + +[Enter Dromio of Syracuse, running.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why, how now, Dromio. +Where runn'st thou so fast? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Do you know me, sir? Am I +Dromio? Am I your man? Am I myself? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Thou art Dromio, thou art +my man, thou art thyself. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I am an ass, I am a woman's +man, and besides myself. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What woman's man? And +how besides thyself? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, besides myself I am +due to a woman, one that claims me, one that +haunts me, one that will have me. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What claim lays she to thee? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, such claim as you +would lay to your horse, and she would have me as +a beast; not that I being a beast she would have me, +but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays +claim to me. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What is she? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE A very reverend body, ay, such a +one as a man may not speak of without he say +"sir-reverence." I have but lean luck in the match, +and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE How dost thou mean a "fat +marriage"? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, she's the kitchen +wench, and all grease, and I know not what use to +put her to but to make a lamp of her and run from +her by her own light. I warrant her rags and the +tallow in them will burn a Poland winter. If she lives +till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the +whole world. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What complexion is she of? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Swart like my shoe, but her face +nothing like so clean kept. For why? She sweats. A +man may go overshoes in the grime of it. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE That's a fault that water will +mend. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood +could not do it. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What's her name? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Nell, sir, but her name and +three quarters--that's an ell and three quarters-- +will not measure her from hip to hip. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Then she bears some +breadth? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No longer from head to foot than +from hip to hip. She is spherical, like a globe. I +could find out countries in her. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE In what part of her body +stands Ireland? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, sir, in her buttocks. I +found it out by the bogs. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where Scotland? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I found it by the barrenness, +hard in the palm of the hand. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where France? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE In her forehead, armed and +reverted, making war against her heir. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where England? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE I looked for the chalky cliffs, but +I could find no whiteness in them. But I guess it +stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran +between France and it. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where Spain? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Faith, I saw it not, but I felt it hot +in her breath. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where America, the Indies? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE O, sir, upon her nose, all o'erembellished +with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, +declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of +Spain, who sent whole armadas of carracks to be +ballast at her nose. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Where stood Belgia, the +Netherlands? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE O, sir, I did not look so low. To +conclude: this drudge or diviner laid claim to me, +called me Dromio, swore I was assured to her, told +me what privy marks I had about me, as the mark +of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart +on my left arm, that I, amazed, ran from her as a +witch. +And, I think, if my breast had not been made of +faith, and my heart of steel, +She had transformed me to a curtal dog and made +me turn i' th' wheel. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Go, hie thee presently. Post to the road. +An if the wind blow any way from shore, +I will not harbor in this town tonight. +If any bark put forth, come to the mart, +Where I will walk till thou return to me. +If everyone knows us, and we know none, +'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack, and be gone. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +As from a bear a man would run for life, +So fly I from her that would be my wife. [He exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +There's none but witches do inhabit here, +And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence. +She that doth call me husband, even my soul +Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister, +Possessed with such a gentle sovereign grace, +Of such enchanting presence and discourse, +Hath almost made me traitor to myself. +But lest myself be guilty to self wrong, +I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song. + +[Enter Angelo with the chain.] + + +ANGELO +Master Antipholus. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Ay, that's my name. + +ANGELO +I know it well, sir. Lo, here's the chain. +I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine; +The chain unfinished made me stay thus long. +[He gives Antipholus a chain.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +What is your will that I shall do with this? + +ANGELO +What please yourself, sir. I have made it for you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Made it for me, sir? I bespoke it not. + +ANGELO +Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have. +Go home with it, and please your wife withal, +And soon at supper time I'll visit you +And then receive my money for the chain. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I pray you, sir, receive the money now, +For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more. + +ANGELO +You are a merry man, sir. Fare you well. [He exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +What I should think of this I cannot tell, +But this I think: there's no man is so vain +That would refuse so fair an offered chain. +I see a man here needs not live by shifts +When in the streets he meets such golden gifts. +I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay. +If any ship put out, then straight away. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a Second Merchant, Angelo the Goldsmith, +and an Officer.] + + +SECOND MERCHANT, [to Angelo] +You know since Pentecost the sum is due, +And since I have not much importuned you, +Nor now I had not, but that I am bound +To Persia and want guilders for my voyage. +Therefore make present satisfaction, +Or I'll attach you by this officer. + +ANGELO +Even just the sum that I do owe to you +Is growing to me by Antipholus. +And in the instant that I met with you, +He had of me a chain. At five o'clock +I shall receive the money for the same. +Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house, +I will discharge my bond and thank you too. + +[Enter Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio of +Ephesus from the Courtesan's.] + + +OFFICER +That labor may you save. See where he comes. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Dromio of Ephesus] +While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou +And buy a rope's end. That will I bestow +Among my wife and her confederates +For locking me out of my doors by day. +But soft. I see the goldsmith. Get thee gone. +Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I buy a thousand pound a year! I buy a rope! +[Dromio exits.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Angelo] +A man is well holp up that trusts to you! +I promised your presence and the chain, +But neither chain nor goldsmith came to me. +Belike you thought our love would last too long +If it were chained together, and therefore came not. + +ANGELO, [handing a paper to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Saving your merry humor, here's the note +How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat, +The fineness of the gold, and chargeful fashion, +Which doth amount to three-odd ducats more +Than I stand debted to this gentleman. +I pray you, see him presently discharged, +For he is bound to sea, and stays but for it. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I am not furnished with the present money. +Besides, I have some business in the town. +Good signior, take the stranger to my house, +And with you take the chain, and bid my wife +Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof. +Perchance I will be there as soon as you. + +ANGELO +Then you will bring the chain to her yourself. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +No, bear it with you lest I come not time enough. + +ANGELO +Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about you? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +An if I have not, sir, I hope you have, +Or else you may return without your money. + +ANGELO +Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain. +Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, +And I, to blame, have held him here too long. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Good Lord! You use this dalliance to excuse +Your breach of promise to the Porpentine. +I should have chid you for not bringing it, +But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl. + +SECOND MERCHANT, [to Angelo] +The hour steals on. I pray you, sir, dispatch. + +ANGELO, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +You hear how he importunes me. The chain! + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your money. + +ANGELO +Come, come. You know I gave it you even now. +Either send the chain, or send by me some token. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Fie, now you run this humor out of breath. +Come, where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it. + +SECOND MERCHANT +My business cannot brook this dalliance. +Good sir, say whe'er you'll answer me or no. +If not, I'll leave him to the Officer. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I answer you? What should I answer you? + +ANGELO +The money that you owe me for the chain. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I owe you none till I receive the chain. + +ANGELO +You know I gave it you half an hour since. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +You gave me none. You wrong me much to say so. + +ANGELO +You wrong me more, sir, in denying it. +Consider how it stands upon my credit. + +SECOND MERCHANT +Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. + +OFFICER, [to Angelo] +I do, and charge you in the Duke's name to obey +me. + +ANGELO, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +This touches me in reputation. +Either consent to pay this sum for me, +Or I attach you by this officer. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Consent to pay thee that I never had?-- +Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou dar'st. + +ANGELO, [to Officer] +Here is thy fee. Arrest him, officer. [Giving money.] +I would not spare my brother in this case +If he should scorn me so apparently. + +OFFICER, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +I do arrest you, sir. You hear the suit. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I do obey thee till I give thee bail. +[To Angelo.] But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as +dear +As all the metal in your shop will answer. + +ANGELO +Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, +To your notorious shame, I doubt it not. + +[Enter Dromio of Syracuse from the bay.] + + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, there's a bark of Epidamium +That stays but till her owner comes aboard, +And then, sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, sir, +I have conveyed aboard, and I have bought +The oil, the balsamum, and aqua vitae. +The ship is in her trim; the merry wind +Blows fair from land. They stay for naught at all +But for their owner, master, and yourself. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +How now? A madman? Why, thou peevish sheep, +What ship of Epidamium stays for me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope +And told thee to what purpose and what end. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +You sent me for a rope's end as soon. +You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I will debate this matter at more leisure +And teach your ears to list me with more heed. +To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight. +[He gives a key.] +Give her this key, and tell her in the desk +That's covered o'er with Turkish tapestry +There is a purse of ducats. Let her send it. +Tell her I am arrested in the street, +And that shall bail me. Hie thee, slave. Begone.-- +On, officer, to prison till it come. +[All but Dromio of Syracuse exit.] + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +To Adriana. That is where we dined, +Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband. +She is too big, I hope, for me to compass. +Thither I must, although against my will, +For servants must their masters' minds fulfill. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Adriana and Luciana.] + + +ADRIANA +Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so? + Might'st thou perceive austerely in his eye +That he did plead in earnest, yea or no? + Looked he or red or pale, or sad or merrily? +What observation mad'st thou in this case +Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face? + +LUCIANA +First he denied you had in him no right. + +ADRIANA +He meant he did me none; the more my spite. + +LUCIANA +Then swore he that he was a stranger here. + +ADRIANA +And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were. + +LUCIANA +Then pleaded I for you. + +ADRIANA And what said he? + +LUCIANA +That love I begged for you he begged of me. + +ADRIANA +With what persuasion did he tempt thy love? + +LUCIANA +With words that in an honest suit might move. +First he did praise my beauty, then my speech. + +ADRIANA +Did'st speak him fair? + +LUCIANA Have patience, I beseech. + +ADRIANA +I cannot, nor I will not hold me still. +My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. +He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, +Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless everywhere, +Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind, +Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. + +LUCIANA +Who would be jealous, then, of such a one? +No evil lost is wailed when it is gone. + +ADRIANA +Ah, but I think him better than I say, + And yet would herein others' eyes were worse. +Far from her nest the lapwing cries away. + My heart prays for him, though my tongue do + curse. + +[Enter Dromio of Syracuse with the key.] + + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Here, go--the desk, the purse! Sweet, now make +haste. + +LUCIANA +How hast thou lost thy breath? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE By running fast. + +ADRIANA +Where is thy master, Dromio? Is he well? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell. +A devil in an everlasting garment hath him, +One whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel; +A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough; +A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff; +A backfriend, a shoulder clapper, one that +countermands +The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands; +A hound that runs counter and yet draws dryfoot +well, +One that before the judgment carries poor souls to +hell. + +ADRIANA Why, man, what is the matter? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I do not know the matter. He is 'rested on the case. + +ADRIANA +What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I know not at whose suit he is arrested well, +But is in a suit of buff which 'rested him; that can I +tell. +Will you send him, mistress, redemption--the +money in his desk? + +ADRIANA +Go fetch it, sister. [(Luciana exits.)] This I wonder at, +That he, unknown to me, should be in debt. +Tell me, was he arrested on a band? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: +A chain, a chain. Do you not hear it ring? + +ADRIANA What, the chain? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, no, the bell. 'Tis time that I were gone. +It was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes +one. + +ADRIANA +The hours come back. That did I never hear. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O yes, if any hour meet a sergeant, he turns back +for very fear. + +ADRIANA +As if time were in debt. How fondly dost thou +reason! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Time is a very bankrout and owes more than he's +worth to season. +Nay, he's a thief too. Have you not heard men say +That time comes stealing on by night and day? +If he be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the +way, +Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day? + +[Enter Luciana, with the purse.] + + +ADRIANA +Go, Dromio. There's the money. Bear it straight, +And bring thy master home immediately. +[Dromio exits.] +Come, sister, I am pressed down with conceit: +Conceit, my comfort and my injury. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Antipholus of Syracuse, wearing the chain.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +There's not a man I meet but doth salute me +As if I were their well-acquainted friend, +And everyone doth call me by my name. +Some tender money to me; some invite me; +Some other give me thanks for kindnesses; +Some offer me commodities to buy. +Even now a tailor called me in his shop +And showed me silks that he had bought for me, +And therewithal took measure of my body. +Sure these are but imaginary wiles, +And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. + +[Enter Dromio of Syracuse with the purse.] + + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Master, here's the gold you sent +me for. What, have you got the picture of old Adam +new-appareled? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +What gold is this? What Adam dost thou mean? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Not that Adam that kept the +Paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison; he +that goes in the calf's skin that was killed for the +Prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil +angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE I understand thee not. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE No? Why, 'tis a plain case: he +that went like a bass viol in a case of leather; the +man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives +them a sob and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity +on decayed men and gives them suits of durance; he +that sets up his rest to do more exploits with his +mace than a morris-pike. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE What, thou mean'st an +officer? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; +he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his +band; one that thinks a man always going to bed +and says "God give you good rest." + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Well, sir, there rest in your +foolery. Is there any ships puts forth tonight? May +we be gone? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Why, sir, I brought you word an +hour since that the bark Expedition put forth tonight, +and then were you hindered by the sergeant +to tarry for the hoy Delay. Here are the angels that +you sent for to deliver you. [He gives the purse.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +The fellow is distract, and so am I, +And here we wander in illusions. +Some blessed power deliver us from hence! + +[Enter a Courtesan.] + + +COURTESAN +Well met, well met, Master Antipholus. +I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now. +Is that the chain you promised me today? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, is this Mistress Satan? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE It is the devil. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Nay, she is worse; she is the +devil's dam, and here she comes in the habit of a +light wench. And thereof comes that the wenches +say "God damn me"; that's as much to say "God +make me a light wench." It is written they appear +to men like angels of light. Light is an effect of fire, +and fire will burn: ergo, light wenches will burn. +Come not near her. + +COURTESAN +Your man and you are marvelous merry, sir. +Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Master, if you do, expect spoon +meat, or bespeak a long spoon. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Why, Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Marry, he must have a long +spoon that must eat with the devil. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [to the Courtesan] +Avoid then, fiend! What tell'st thou me of supping? +Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress. +I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. + +COURTESAN +Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner +Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised, +And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Some devils ask but the parings +of one's nail, a rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a +nut, a cherrystone; but she, more covetous, would +have a chain. Master, be wise. An if you give it her, +the devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. + +COURTESAN +I pray you, sir, my ring or else the chain. +I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Avaunt, thou witch!--Come, Dromio, let us go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE "Fly pride," says the peacock. +Mistress, that you know. +[Antipholus and Dromio exit.] + +COURTESAN +Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad; +Else would he never so demean himself. +A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, +And for the same he promised me a chain. +Both one and other he denies me now. +The reason that I gather he is mad, +Besides this present instance of his rage, +Is a mad tale he told today at dinner +Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. +Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits, +On purpose shut the doors against his way. +My way is now to hie home to his house +And tell his wife that, being lunatic, +He rushed into my house and took perforce +My ring away. This course I fittest choose, +For forty ducats is too much to lose. +[She exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Antipholus of Ephesus with a Jailer, the Officer.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Fear me not, man. I will not break away. +I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money, +To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for. +My wife is in a wayward mood today +And will not lightly trust the messenger +That I should be attached in Ephesus. +I tell you, 'twill sound harshly in her ears. + +[Enter Dromio of Ephesus with a rope's end.] + +Here comes my man. I think he brings the +money. +How now, sir? Have you that I sent you for? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS, [handing over the rope's end] +Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS But where's the money? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +To what end did I bid thee hie thee home? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS To a rope's end, sir, and to that +end am I returned. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [beating Dromio] +And to that end, sir, I will welcome you. + +OFFICER Good sir, be patient. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, 'tis for me to be patient. I am +in adversity. + +OFFICER Good now, hold thy tongue. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, rather persuade him to hold +his hands. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS Thou whoreson, senseless +villain. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS I would I were senseless, sir, that +I might not feel your blows. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS Thou art sensible in nothing +but blows, and so is an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS I am an ass, indeed; you may +prove it by my long ears.--I have served him from +the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have +nothing at his hands for my service but blows. +When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I +am warm, he cools me with beating. I am waked +with it when I sleep, raised with it when I sit, +driven out of doors with it when I go from home, +welcomed home with it when I return. Nay, I bear it +on my shoulders as a beggar wont her brat, and I +think when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it +from door to door. + +[Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan, and a Schoolmaster +called Pinch.] + + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Come, go along. My wife is coming yonder. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Mistress, respice finem, respect +your end, or rather, the prophecy like the parrot, +"Beware the rope's end." + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS Wilt thou still talk? +[Beats Dromio.] + +COURTESAN, [to Adriana] +How say you now? Is not your husband mad? + +ADRIANA +His incivility confirms no less.-- +Good Doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer; +Establish him in his true sense again, +And I will please you what you will demand. + +LUCIANA +Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks! + +COURTESAN +Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy. + +PINCH, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Give me your hand, and let me feel your pulse. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [striking Pinch] +There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. + +PINCH +I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man, +To yield possession to my holy prayers, +And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight. +I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Peace, doting wizard, peace. I am not mad. + +ADRIANA +O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul! + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +You minion, you, are these your customers? +Did this companion with the saffron face +Revel and feast it at my house today +Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut +And I denied to enter in my house? + +ADRIANA +O husband, God doth know you dined at home, +Where would you had remained until this time, +Free from these slanders and this open shame. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +"Dined at home"? [To Dromio.] Thou villain, what +sayest thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Were not my doors locked up and I shut out? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Perdie, your doors were locked, and you shut out. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +And did not she herself revile me there? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Sans fable, she herself reviled you there. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Did not her kitchen maid rail, taunt, and scorn me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Certes, she did; the kitchen vestal scorned you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +And did not I in rage depart from thence? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +In verity you did.--My bones bears witness, +That since have felt the vigor of his rage. + +ADRIANA, [to Pinch] +Is 't good to soothe him in these contraries? + +PINCH +It is no shame. The fellow finds his vein +And, yielding to him, humors well his frenzy. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Adriana] +Thou hast suborned the goldsmith to arrest me. + +ADRIANA +Alas, I sent you money to redeem you +By Dromio here, who came in haste for it. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Money by me? Heart and goodwill you might, +But surely, master, not a rag of money. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats? + +ADRIANA +He came to me, and I delivered it. + +LUCIANA +And I am witness with her that she did. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +God and the rope-maker bear me witness +That I was sent for nothing but a rope. + +PINCH +Mistress, both man and master is possessed. +I know it by their pale and deadly looks. +They must be bound and laid in some dark room. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Adriana] +Say wherefore didst thou lock me forth today. +[To Dromio of Ephesus.] And why dost thou deny the +bag of gold? + +ADRIANA +I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And, gentle master, I received no gold. +But I confess, sir, that we were locked out. + +ADRIANA +Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all, +And art confederate with a damned pack +To make a loathsome abject scorn of me. +But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes +That would behold in me this shameful sport. + +ADRIANA +O bind him, bind him! Let him not come near me. + +[Enter three or four, and offer to bind him. He strives.] + + +PINCH +More company! The fiend is strong within him. + +LUCIANA +Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks! + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +What, will you murder me?--Thou jailer, thou, +I am thy prisoner. Wilt thou suffer them +To make a rescue? + +OFFICER Masters, let him go. +He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him. + +PINCH +Go, bind this man, for he is frantic too. +[Dromio is bound.] + +ADRIANA, [to Officer] +What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer? +Hast thou delight to see a wretched man +Do outrage and displeasure to himself? + +OFFICER +He is my prisoner. If I let him go, +The debt he owes will be required of me. + +ADRIANA +I will discharge thee ere I go from thee. +Bear me forthwith unto his creditor, +And knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.-- +Good Master Doctor, see him safe conveyed +Home to my house. O most unhappy day! + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS O most unhappy strumpet! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, I am here entered in bond for you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Out on thee, villain! Wherefore dost thou mad me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Will you be bound for nothing? Be mad, good +master. +Cry "The devil!" + +LUCIANA +God help poor souls! How idly do they talk! + +ADRIANA, [to Pinch] +Go bear him hence. +[Pinch and his men exit with Antipholus +and Dromio of Ephesus. +Officer, Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan remain.] +Sister, go you with me. +[To Officer.] Say now whose suit is he arrested at. + +OFFICER +One Angelo, a goldsmith. Do you know him? + +ADRIANA +I know the man. What is the sum he owes? + +OFFICER +Two hundred ducats. + +ADRIANA Say, how grows it due? + +OFFICER +Due for a chain your husband had of him. + +ADRIANA +He did bespeak a chain for me but had it not. + +COURTESAN +Whenas your husband all in rage today +Came to my house and took away my ring, +The ring I saw upon his finger now, +Straight after did I meet him with a chain. + +ADRIANA +It may be so, but I did never see it.-- +Come, jailer, bring me where the goldsmith is. +I long to know the truth hereof at large. + +[Enter Antipholus of Syracuse with his rapier drawn, +and Dromio of Syracuse.] + + +LUCIANA +God for Thy mercy, they are loose again! + +ADRIANA +And come with naked swords. Let's call more help +To have them bound again. + +OFFICER Away! They'll kill us. +[Run all out as fast as may be, frighted. +Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse remain.] + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I see these witches are afraid of swords. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +She that would be your wife now ran from you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Come to the Centaur. Fetch our stuff from thence. +I long that we were safe and sound aboard. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Faith, stay here this night. They +will surely do us no harm. You saw they speak us +fair, give us gold. Methinks they are such a gentle +nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that +claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to +stay here still, and turn witch. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I will not stay tonight for all the town. +Therefore, away, to get our stuff aboard. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Second Merchant and Angelo the +Goldsmith.] + + +ANGELO +I am sorry, sir, that I have hindered you, +But I protest he had the chain of me, +Though most dishonestly he doth deny it. + +SECOND MERCHANT +How is the man esteemed here in the city? + +ANGELO +Of very reverend reputation, sir, +Of credit infinite, highly beloved, +Second to none that lives here in the city. +His word might bear my wealth at any time. + +SECOND MERCHANT +Speak softly. Yonder, as I think, he walks. + +[Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse again, +Antipholus wearing the chain.] + + +ANGELO +'Tis so, and that self chain about his neck +Which he forswore most monstrously to have. +Good sir, draw near to me. I'll speak to him.-- +Signior Antipholus, I wonder much +That you would put me to this shame and trouble, +And not without some scandal to yourself, +With circumstance and oaths so to deny +This chain, which now you wear so openly. +Besides the charge, the shame, imprisonment, +You have done wrong to this my honest friend, +Who, but for staying on our controversy, +Had hoisted sail and put to sea today. +This chain you had of me. Can you deny it? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I think I had. I never did deny it. + +SECOND MERCHANT +Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Who heard me to deny it or forswear it? + +SECOND MERCHANT +These ears of mine, thou know'st, did hear thee. +Fie on thee, wretch. 'Tis pity that thou liv'st +To walk where any honest men resort. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Thou art a villain to impeach me thus. +I'll prove mine honor and mine honesty +Against thee presently if thou dar'st stand. + +SECOND MERCHANT +I dare, and do defy thee for a villain. [They draw.] + +[Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtesan, and others.] + + +ADRIANA +Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake. He is mad.-- +Some get within him; take his sword away. +Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Run, master, run. For God's sake, take a house. +This is some priory. In, or we are spoiled. +[Antipholus and Dromio of Syracuse +exit to the Priory.] + +[Enter Lady Abbess.] + + +ABBESS +Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither? + +ADRIANA +To fetch my poor distracted husband hence. +Let us come in, that we may bind him fast +And bear him home for his recovery. + +ANGELO +I knew he was not in his perfect wits. + +SECOND MERCHANT +I am sorry now that I did draw on him. + +ABBESS +How long hath this possession held the man? + +ADRIANA +This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad, +And much different from the man he was. +But till this afternoon his passion +Ne'er brake into extremity of rage. + +ABBESS +Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea? +Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye +Strayed his affection in unlawful love, +A sin prevailing much in youthful men +Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing? +Which of these sorrows is he subject to? + +ADRIANA +To none of these, except it be the last, +Namely, some love that drew him oft from home. + +ABBESS +You should for that have reprehended him. + +ADRIANA +Why, so I did. + +ABBESS Ay, but not rough enough. + +ADRIANA +As roughly as my modesty would let me. + +ABBESS +Haply in private. + +ADRIANA And in assemblies too. + +ABBESS Ay, but not enough. + +ADRIANA +It was the copy of our conference. +In bed he slept not for my urging it; +At board he fed not for my urging it. +Alone, it was the subject of my theme; +In company I often glanced it. +Still did I tell him it was vile and bad. + +ABBESS +And thereof came it that the man was mad. +The venom clamors of a jealous woman +Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. +It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing, +And thereof comes it that his head is light. +Thou sayst his meat was sauced with thy +upbraidings. +Unquiet meals make ill digestions. +Thereof the raging fire of fever bred, +And what's a fever but a fit of madness? +Thou sayest his sports were hindered by thy brawls. +Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue +But moody and dull melancholy, +Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair, +And at her heels a huge infectious troop +Of pale distemperatures and foes to life? +In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest +To be disturbed would mad or man or beast. +The consequence is, then, thy jealous fits +Hath scared thy husband from the use of wits. + +LUCIANA +She never reprehended him but mildly +When he demeaned himself rough, rude, and +wildly.-- +Why bear you these rebukes and answer not? + +ADRIANA +She did betray me to my own reproof.-- +Good people, enter and lay hold on him. + +ABBESS +No, not a creature enters in my house. + +ADRIANA +Then let your servants bring my husband forth. + +ABBESS +Neither. He took this place for sanctuary, +And it shall privilege him from your hands +Till I have brought him to his wits again +Or lose my labor in assaying it. + +ADRIANA +I will attend my husband, be his nurse, +Diet his sickness, for it is my office +And will have no attorney but myself; +And therefore let me have him home with me. + +ABBESS +Be patient, for I will not let him stir +Till I have used the approved means I have, +With wholesome syrups, drugs, and holy prayers, +To make of him a formal man again. +It is a branch and parcel of mine oath, +A charitable duty of my order. +Therefore depart and leave him here with me. + +ADRIANA +I will not hence and leave my husband here; +And ill it doth beseem your holiness +To separate the husband and the wife. + +ABBESS +Be quiet and depart. Thou shalt not have him. +[She exits.] + +LUCIANA, [to Adriana] +Complain unto the Duke of this indignity. + +ADRIANA +Come, go. I will fall prostrate at his feet +And never rise until my tears and prayers +Have won his grace to come in person hither +And take perforce my husband from the Abbess. + +SECOND MERCHANT +By this, I think, the dial points at five. +Anon, I'm sure, the Duke himself in person +Comes this way to the melancholy vale, +The place of death and sorry execution +Behind the ditches of the abbey here. + +ANGELO Upon what cause? + +SECOND MERCHANT +To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, +Who put unluckily into this bay +Against the laws and statutes of this town, +Beheaded publicly for his offense. + +ANGELO +See where they come. We will behold his death. + +LUCIANA, [to Adriana] +Kneel to the Duke before he pass the abbey. + +[Enter the Duke of Ephesus, and Egeon the Merchant +of Syracuse, bare head, with the Headsman +and other Officers.] + + +DUKE +Yet once again proclaim it publicly, +If any friend will pay the sum for him, +He shall not die; so much we tender him. + +ADRIANA, [kneeling] +Justice, most sacred duke, against the Abbess. + +DUKE +She is a virtuous and a reverend lady. +It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong. + +ADRIANA +May it please your Grace, Antipholus my husband, +Who I made lord of me and all I had +At your important letters, this ill day +A most outrageous fit of madness took him, +That desp'rately he hurried through the street, +With him his bondman, all as mad as he, +Doing displeasure to the citizens +By rushing in their houses, bearing thence +Rings, jewels, anything his rage did like. +Once did I get him bound and sent him home +Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went +That here and there his fury had committed. +Anon, I wot not by what strong escape, +He broke from those that had the guard of him, +And with his mad attendant and himself, +Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords, +Met us again and, madly bent on us, +Chased us away, till raising of more aid, +We came again to bind them. Then they fled +Into this abbey, whither we pursued them, +And here the Abbess shuts the gates on us +And will not suffer us to fetch him out, +Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence. +Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command +Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help. + +DUKE +Long since, thy husband served me in my wars, +And I to thee engaged a prince's word, +When thou didst make him master of thy bed, +To do him all the grace and good I could. +Go, some of you, knock at the abbey gate, +And bid the Lady Abbess come to me. +I will determine this before I stir. [Adriana rises.] + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself. +My master and his man are both broke loose, +Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor, +Whose beard they have singed off with brands of +fire, +And ever as it blazed they threw on him +Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair. +My master preaches patience to him, and the while +His man with scissors nicks him like a fool; +And sure, unless you send some present help, +Between them they will kill the conjurer. + +ADRIANA +Peace, fool. Thy master and his man are here, +And that is false thou dost report to us. + +MESSENGER +Mistress, upon my life I tell you true. +I have not breathed almost since I did see it. +He cries for you and vows, if he can take you, +To scorch your face and to disfigure you. [Cry within.] +Hark, hark, I hear him, mistress. Fly, begone! + +DUKE +Come, stand by me. Fear nothing.--Guard with +halberds. + +[Enter Antipholus and Dromio of Ephesus.] + + +ADRIANA +Ay me, it is my husband. Witness you +That he is borne about invisible. +Even now we housed him in the abbey here, +And now he's there, past thought of human reason. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Justice, most gracious duke. O, grant me justice, +Even for the service that long since I did thee +When I bestrid thee in the wars and took +Deep scars to save thy life. Even for the blood +That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice. + +EGEON, [aside] +Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, +I see my son Antipholus and Dromio. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there, +She whom thou gav'st to me to be my wife, +That hath abused and dishonored me +Even in the strength and height of injury. +Beyond imagination is the wrong +That she this day hath shameless thrown on me. + +DUKE +Discover how, and thou shalt find me just. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me +While she with harlots feasted in my house. + +DUKE +A grievous fault.--Say, woman, didst thou so? + +ADRIANA +No, my good lord. Myself, he, and my sister +Today did dine together. So befall my soul +As this is false he burdens me withal. + +LUCIANA +Ne'er may I look on day nor sleep on night +But she tells to your Highness simple truth. + +ANGELO +O perjured woman!--They are both forsworn. +In this the madman justly chargeth them. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +My liege, I am advised what I say, +Neither disturbed with the effect of wine, +Nor heady-rash provoked with raging ire, +Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad. +This woman locked me out this day from dinner. +That goldsmith there, were he not packed with her, +Could witness it, for he was with me then, +Who parted with me to go fetch a chain, +Promising to bring it to the Porpentine, +Where Balthasar and I did dine together. +Our dinner done and he not coming thither, +I went to seek him. In the street I met him, +And in his company that gentleman. +[He points to Second Merchant.] +There did this perjured goldsmith swear me down +That I this day of him received the chain, +Which, God He knows, I saw not; for the which +He did arrest me with an officer. +I did obey and sent my peasant home +For certain ducats. He with none returned. +Then fairly I bespoke the officer +To go in person with me to my house. +By th' way we met +My wife, her sister, and a rabble more +Of vile confederates. Along with them +They brought one Pinch, a hungry, lean-faced +villain, +A mere anatomy, a mountebank, +A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller, +A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, +A living dead man. This pernicious slave, +Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer, +And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, +And with no face (as 'twere) outfacing me, +Cries out I was possessed. Then all together +They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence, +And in a dark and dankish vault at home +There left me and my man, both bound together, +Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, +I gained my freedom and immediately +Ran hither to your Grace, whom I beseech +To give me ample satisfaction +For these deep shames and great indignities. + +ANGELO +My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him: +That he dined not at home, but was locked out. + +DUKE +But had he such a chain of thee or no? + +ANGELO +He had, my lord, and when he ran in here, +These people saw the chain about his neck. + +SECOND MERCHANT, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine +Heard you confess you had the chain of him +After you first forswore it on the mart, +And thereupon I drew my sword on you, +And then you fled into this abbey here, +From whence I think you are come by miracle. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I never came within these abbey walls, +Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me. +I never saw the chain, so help me heaven, +And this is false you burden me withal. + +DUKE +Why, what an intricate impeach is this! +I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup. +If here you housed him, here he would have been. +If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly. +[To Adriana.] You say he dined at home; the +goldsmith here +Denies that saying. [To Dromio of Ephesus.] Sirrah, +what say you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS, [pointing to the Courtesan] +Sir, he dined with her there at the Porpentine. + +COURTESAN +He did, and from my finger snatched that ring. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [showing a ring] +'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of her. + +DUKE, [to Courtesan] +Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? + +COURTESAN +As sure, my liege, as I do see your Grace. + +DUKE +Why, this is strange.--Go call the Abbess hither. +[Exit one to the Abbess.] +I think you are all mated or stark mad. + +EGEON +Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word. +Haply I see a friend will save my life +And pay the sum that may deliver me. + +DUKE +Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt. + +EGEON, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Is not your name, sir, called Antipholus? +And is not that your bondman Dromio? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Within this hour I was his bondman, sir, +But he, I thank him, gnawed in two my cords. +Now am I Dromio, and his man, unbound. + +EGEON +I am sure you both of you remember me. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you, +For lately we were bound as you are now. +You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir? + +EGEON, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Why look you strange on me? You know me well. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I never saw you in my life till now. + +EGEON +O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, +And careful hours with time's deformed hand +Have written strange defeatures in my face. +But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS Neither. + +EGEON Dromio, nor thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS No, trust me, sir, nor I. + +EGEON I am sure thou dost. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not, and +whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to +believe him. + +EGEON +Not know my voice! O time's extremity, +Hast thou so cracked and splitted my poor tongue +In seven short years that here my only son +Knows not my feeble key of untuned cares? +Though now this grained face of mine be hid +In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, +And all the conduits of my blood froze up, +Yet hath my night of life some memory, +My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, +My dull deaf ears a little use to hear. +All these old witnesses--I cannot err-- +Tell me thou art my son Antipholus. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I never saw my father in my life. + +EGEON +But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy, +Thou know'st we parted. But perhaps, my son, +Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +The Duke and all that know me in the city +Can witness with me that it is not so. +I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life. + +DUKE +I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years +Have I been patron to Antipholus, +During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa. +I see thy age and dangers make thee dote. + +[Enter Emilia the Abbess, with Antipholus of +Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse.] + + +ABBESS +Most mighty duke, behold a man much wronged. +[All gather to see them.] + +ADRIANA +I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me. + +DUKE +One of these men is genius to the other. +And so, of these, which is the natural man +And which the spirit? Who deciphers them? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir, am Dromio. Command him away. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I, sir, am Dromio. Pray, let me stay. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +Egeon art thou not, or else his ghost? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, my old master.--Who hath bound him here? + +ABBESS +Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds +And gain a husband by his liberty.-- +Speak, old Egeon, if thou be'st the man +That hadst a wife once called Emilia, +That bore thee at a burden two fair sons. +O, if thou be'st the same Egeon, speak, +And speak unto the same Emilia. + +DUKE +Why, here begins his morning story right: +These two Antipholus', these two so like, +And these two Dromios, one in semblance-- +Besides her urging of her wrack at sea-- +These are the parents to these children, +Which accidentally are met together. + +EGEON +If I dream not, thou art Emilia. +If thou art she, tell me, where is that son +That floated with thee on the fatal raft? + +ABBESS +By men of Epidamium he and I +And the twin Dromio all were taken up; +But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth +By force took Dromio and my son from them, +And me they left with those of Epidamium. +What then became of them I cannot tell; +I to this fortune that you see me in. + +DUKE, [to Antipholus of Syracuse] +Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +No, sir, not I. I came from Syracuse. + +DUKE +Stay, stand apart. I know not which is which. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS And I with him. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Brought to this town by that most famous warrior +Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle. + +ADRIANA +Which of you two did dine with me today? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I, gentle mistress. + +ADRIANA And are not you my husband? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS No, I say nay to that. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +And so do I, yet did she call me so, +And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here, +Did call me brother. [To Luciana.] What I told you +then +I hope I shall have leisure to make good, +If this be not a dream I see and hear. + +ANGELO, [turning to Antipholus of Syracuse] +That is the chain, sir, which you had of me. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE +I think it be, sir. I deny it not. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to Angelo] +And you, sir, for this chain arrested me. + +ANGELO +I think I did, sir. I deny it not. + +ADRIANA, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +I sent you money, sir, to be your bail +By Dromio, but I think he brought it not. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS No, none by me. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [to Adriana] +This purse of ducats I received from you, +And Dromio my man did bring them me. +I see we still did meet each other's man, +And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, +And thereupon these errors are arose. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, [to the Duke] +These ducats pawn I for my father here. + +DUKE +It shall not need. Thy father hath his life. + +COURTESAN, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Sir, I must have that diamond from you. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +There, take it, and much thanks for my good cheer. + +ABBESS +Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains +To go with us into the abbey here +And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes, +And all that are assembled in this place +That by this sympathized one day's error +Have suffered wrong. Go, keep us company, +And we shall make full satisfaction.-- +Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail +Of you, my sons, and till this present hour +My heavy burden ne'er delivered.-- +The Duke, my husband, and my children both, +And you, the calendars of their nativity, +Go to a gossips' feast, and go with me. +After so long grief, such nativity! + +DUKE +With all my heart I'll gossip at this feast. +[All exit except the two Dromios +and the two brothers Antipholus.] + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard? + +ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS +Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embarked? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur. + +ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, [to Antipholus of Ephesus] +He speaks to me.--I am your master, Dromio. +Come, go with us. We'll look to that anon. +Embrace thy brother there. Rejoice with him. +[The brothers Antipholus exit.] + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There is a fat friend at your master's house +That kitchened me for you today at dinner. +She now shall be my sister, not my wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother. +I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth. +Will you walk in to see their gossiping? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE Not I, sir. You are my elder. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS That's a question. How shall we +try it? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE We'll draw cuts for the signior. +Till then, lead thou first. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS Nay, then, thus: +We came into the world like brother and brother, +And now let's go hand in hand, not one before +another. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-merchant-of-venice_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-merchant-of-venice_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3173ab6 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-merchant-of-venice_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4055 @@ +The Merchant of Venice +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-merchant-of-venice/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +PORTIA, an heiress of Belmont +NERISSA, her waiting-gentlewoman +Servants to Portia: + BALTHAZAR + STEPHANO +Suitors to Portia: + Prince of MOROCCO + Prince of ARRAGON +ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice +BASSANIO, a Venetian gentleman, suitor to Portia +Companions of Antonio and Bassanio: + SOLANIO + SALARINO + GRATIANO + LORENZO +LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio +SHYLOCK, a Jewish moneylender in Venice +JESSICA, his daughter +TUBAL, another Jewish moneylender +LANCELET GOBBO, servant to Shylock and later to Bassanio +OLD GOBBO, Lancelet's father +SALERIO, a messenger from Venice +Jailer +Duke of Venice +Magnificoes of Venice +Servants +Attendants and followers +Messenger +Musicians + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Solanio.] + + +ANTONIO +In sooth I know not why I am so sad. +It wearies me, you say it wearies you. +But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, +What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, +I am to learn. +And such a want-wit sadness makes of me +That I have much ado to know myself. + +SALARINO +Your mind is tossing on the ocean, +There where your argosies with portly sail +(Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, +Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea) +Do overpeer the petty traffickers +That curtsy to them, do them reverence, +As they fly by them with their woven wings. + +SOLANIO +Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, +The better part of my affections would +Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still +Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind, +Piring in maps for ports and piers and roads; +And every object that might make me fear +Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt +Would make me sad. + +SALARINO My wind cooling my broth +Would blow me to an ague when I thought +What harm a wind too great might do at sea. +I should not see the sandy hourglass run +But I should think of shallows and of flats, +And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand, +Vailing her high top lower than her ribs +To kiss her burial. Should I go to church +And see the holy edifice of stone +And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, +Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, +Would scatter all her spices on the stream, +Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, +And, in a word, but even now worth this +And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought +To think on this, and shall I lack the thought +That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? +But tell not me: I know Antonio +Is sad to think upon his merchandise. + +ANTONIO +Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it, +My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, +Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate +Upon the fortune of this present year: +Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. + +SOLANIO +Why then you are in love. + +ANTONIO Fie, fie! + +SOLANIO +Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad +Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy +For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry +Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed +Janus, +Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: +Some that will evermore peep through their eyes +And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper, +And other of such vinegar aspect +That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile +Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. + +[Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.] + +Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, +Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well. +We leave you now with better company. + +SALARINO +I would have stayed till I had made you merry, +If worthier friends had not prevented me. + +ANTONIO +Your worth is very dear in my regard. +I take it your own business calls on you, +And you embrace th' occasion to depart. + +SALARINO +Good morrow, my good lords. + +BASSANIO +Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say, +when? +You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so? + +SALARINO +We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. +[Salarino and Solanio exit.] + +LORENZO +My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, +We two will leave you. But at dinner time +I pray you have in mind where we must meet. + +BASSANIO +I will not fail you. + +GRATIANO +You look not well, Signior Antonio. +You have too much respect upon the world. +They lose it that do buy it with much care. +Believe me, you are marvelously changed. + +ANTONIO +I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, +A stage where every man must play a part, +And mine a sad one. + +GRATIANO Let me play the fool. +With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, +And let my liver rather heat with wine +Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. +Why should a man whose blood is warm within +Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? +Sleep when he wakes? And creep into the jaundice +By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio +(I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks): +There are a sort of men whose visages +Do cream and mantle like a standing pond +And do a willful stillness entertain +With purpose to be dressed in an opinion +Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, +As who should say "I am Sir Oracle, +And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark." +O my Antonio, I do know of these +That therefore only are reputed wise +For saying nothing, when, I am very sure, +If they should speak, would almost damn those ears +Which, hearing them, would call their brothers +fools. +I'll tell thee more of this another time. +But fish not with this melancholy bait +For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.-- +Come, good Lorenzo.--Fare you well a while. +I'll end my exhortation after dinner. + +LORENZO +Well, we will leave you then till dinner time. +I must be one of these same dumb wise men, +For Gratiano never lets me speak. + +GRATIANO +Well, keep me company but two years more, +Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own +tongue. + +ANTONIO +Fare you well. I'll grow a talker for this gear. + +GRATIANO +Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable +In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible. +[Gratiano and Lorenzo exit.] + +ANTONIO Is that anything now? + +BASSANIO Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, +more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as +two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you +shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you +have them, they are not worth the search. + +ANTONIO +Well, tell me now what lady is the same +To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, +That you today promised to tell me of? + +BASSANIO +'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, +How much I have disabled mine estate +By something showing a more swelling port +Than my faint means would grant continuance. +Nor do I now make moan to be abridged +From such a noble rate. But my chief care +Is to come fairly off from the great debts +Wherein my time, something too prodigal, +Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, +I owe the most in money and in love, +And from your love I have a warranty +To unburden all my plots and purposes +How to get clear of all the debts I owe. + +ANTONIO +I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; +And if it stand, as you yourself still do, +Within the eye of honor, be assured +My purse, my person, my extremest means +Lie all unlocked to your occasions. + +BASSANIO +In my school days, when I had lost one shaft, +I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight +The selfsame way with more advised watch +To find the other forth; and by adventuring both +I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof +Because what follows is pure innocence. +I owe you much, and, like a willful youth, +That which I owe is lost. But if you please +To shoot another arrow that self way +Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, +As I will watch the aim, or to find both +Or bring your latter hazard back again, +And thankfully rest debtor for the first. + +ANTONIO +You know me well, and herein spend but time +To wind about my love with circumstance; +And out of doubt you do me now more wrong +In making question of my uttermost +Than if you had made waste of all I have. +Then do but say to me what I should do +That in your knowledge may by me be done, +And I am prest unto it. Therefore speak. + +BASSANIO +In Belmont is a lady richly left, +And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, +Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes +I did receive fair speechless messages. +Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued +To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. +Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, +For the four winds blow in from every coast +Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks +Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, +Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strond, +And many Jasons come in quest of her. +O my Antonio, had I but the means +To hold a rival place with one of them, +I have a mind presages me such thrift +That I should questionless be fortunate! + +ANTONIO +Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; +Neither have I money nor commodity +To raise a present sum. Therefore go forth: +Try what my credit can in Venice do; +That shall be racked even to the uttermost +To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia. +Go presently inquire, and so will I, +Where money is, and I no question make +To have it of my trust, or for my sake. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa.] + + +PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary +of this great world. + +NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries +were in the same abundance as your good fortunes +are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that +surfeit with too much as they that starve with +nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be +seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by +white hairs, but competency lives longer. + +PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced. + +NERISSA They would be better if well followed. + +PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were +good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor +men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine +that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach +twenty what were good to be done than to be one of +the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain +may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper +leaps o'er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the +youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the +cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to +choose me a husband. O, me, the word "choose"! I +may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I +dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by +the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that +I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? + +NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men +at their death have good inspirations. Therefore the +lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of +gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his +meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be +chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly +love. But what warmth is there in your affection +towards any of these princely suitors that are already +come? + +PORTIA I pray thee, overname them, and as thou +namest them, I will describe them, and according +to my description level at my affection. + +NERISSA First, there is the Neapolitan prince. + +PORTIA Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but +talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation +to his own good parts that he can shoe him +himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother +played false with a smith. + +NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine. + +PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say +"An you will not have me, choose." He hears +merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the +weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so +full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had +rather be married to a death's-head with a bone in +his mouth than to either of these. God defend me +from these two! + +NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le +Bon? + +PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for +a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, +but he!--why, he hath a horse better than the +Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of frowning than +the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a +throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap'ring. He will +fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I +should marry twenty husbands! If he would despise +me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to +madness, I shall never requite him. + +NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young +baron of England? + +PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands +not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin, +French, nor Italian; and you will come into the +court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in +the English. He is a proper man's picture, but alas, +who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly +he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, +his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, +and his behavior everywhere. + +NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his +neighbor? + +PORTIA That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for +he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, +and swore he would pay him again when he was +able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and +sealed under for another. + +NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of +Saxony's nephew? + +PORTIA Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, +and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk. +When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and +when he is worst he is little better than a beast. An +the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift +to go without him. + +NERISSA If he should offer to choose, and choose the +right casket, you should refuse to perform your +father's will if you should refuse to accept him. + +PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set +a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary +casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation +without, I know he will choose it. I will do +anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge. + +NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of +these lords. They have acquainted me with their +determinations, which is indeed to return to their +home and to trouble you with no more suit, unless +you may be won by some other sort than your +father's imposition depending on the caskets. + +PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as +chaste as Diana unless I be obtained by the manner +of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers +are so reasonable, for there is not one among them +but I dote on his very absence. And I pray God +grant them a fair departure! + +NERISSA Do you not remember, lady, in your father's +time, a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came +hither in company of the Marquess of Montferrat? + +PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio--as I think so was he +called. + +NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my +foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a +fair lady. + +PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him +worthy of thy praise. + +[Enter a Servingman.] + +How now, what news? + +SERVINGMAN The four strangers seek for you, madam, +to take their leave. And there is a forerunner come +from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings +word the Prince his master will be here tonight. + +PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good +heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should +be glad of his approach. If he have the condition of +a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had rather +he should shrive me than wive me. +Come, Nerissa. [To Servingman.] Sirrah, go before.-- +Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another +knocks at the door. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Bassanio with Shylock the Jew.] + + +SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats, well. + +BASSANIO Ay, sir, for three months. + +SHYLOCK For three months, well. + +BASSANIO For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall +be bound. + +SHYLOCK Antonio shall become bound, well. + +BASSANIO May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? +Shall I know your answer? + +SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats for three months, +and Antonio bound. + +BASSANIO Your answer to that? + +SHYLOCK Antonio is a good man. + +BASSANIO Have you heard any imputation to the +contrary? + +SHYLOCK Ho, no, no, no, no! My meaning in saying he +is a good man is to have you understand me that he +is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he +hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the +Indies. I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, +he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and +other ventures he hath squandered abroad. But +ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be land +rats and water rats, water thieves and land +thieves--I mean pirates--and then there is the +peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, +notwithstanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats. +I think I may take his bond. + +BASSANIO Be assured you may. + +SHYLOCK I will be assured I may. And that I may be +assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with +Antonio? + +BASSANIO If it please you to dine with us. + +SHYLOCK Yes, to smell pork! To eat of the habitation +which your prophet the Nazarite conjured the +devil into! I will buy with you, sell with you, talk +with you, walk with you, and so following; but I +will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with +you.--What news on the Rialto?--Who is he comes +here? + +[Enter Antonio.] + + +BASSANIO This is Signior Antonio. + +SHYLOCK, [aside] +How like a fawning publican he looks! +I hate him for he is a Christian, +But more for that in low simplicity +He lends out money gratis and brings down +The rate of usance here with us in Venice. +If I can catch him once upon the hip, +I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. +He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, +Even there where merchants most do congregate, +On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, +Which he calls "interest." Cursed be my tribe +If I forgive him! + +BASSANIO Shylock, do you hear? + +SHYLOCK +I am debating of my present store, +And, by the near guess of my memory, +I cannot instantly raise up the gross +Of full three thousand ducats. What of that? +Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, +Will furnish me. But soft, how many months +Do you desire? [To Antonio.] Rest you fair, good +signior! +Your Worship was the last man in our mouths. + +ANTONIO +Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow +By taking nor by giving of excess, +Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, +I'll break a custom. [To Bassanio.] Is he yet +possessed +How much you would? + +SHYLOCK Ay, ay, three thousand +ducats. + +ANTONIO And for three months. + +SHYLOCK +I had forgot--three months. [To Bassanio.] +You told me so.-- +Well then, your bond. And let me see--but hear +you: +Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow +Upon advantage. + +ANTONIO I do never use it. + +SHYLOCK +When Jacob grazed his Uncle Laban's sheep-- +This Jacob from our holy Abram was +(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf) +The third possessor; ay, he was the third-- + +ANTONIO +And what of him? Did he take interest? + +SHYLOCK +No, not take interest, not, as you would say, +Directly "interest." Mark what Jacob did. +When Laban and himself were compromised +That all the eanlings which were streaked and pied +Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes being rank +In end of autumn turned to the rams, +And when the work of generation was +Between these woolly breeders in the act, +The skillful shepherd pilled me certain wands, +And in the doing of the deed of kind +He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes, +Who then conceiving did in eaning time +Fall parti-colored lambs, and those were Jacob's. +This was a way to thrive, and he was blest; +And thrift is blessing if men steal it not. + +ANTONIO +This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for, +A thing not in his power to bring to pass, +But swayed and fashioned by the hand of heaven. +Was this inserted to make interest good? +Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams? + +SHYLOCK +I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast. +But note me, signior-- + +ANTONIO, [aside to Bassanio] +Mark you this, Bassanio, +The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose! +An evil soul producing holy witness +Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, +A goodly apple rotten at the heart. +O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! + +SHYLOCK +Three thousand ducats. 'Tis a good round sum. +Three months from twelve, then let me see, the +rate-- + +ANTONIO +Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you? + +SHYLOCK +Signior Antonio, many a time and oft +In the Rialto you have rated me +About my moneys and my usances. +Still have I borne it with a patient shrug +(For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe). +You call me misbeliever, cutthroat dog, +And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine, +And all for use of that which is mine own. +Well then, it now appears you need my help. +Go to, then. You come to me and you say +"Shylock, we would have moneys"--you say so, +You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, +And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur +Over your threshold. Moneys is your suit. +What should I say to you? Should I not say +"Hath a dog money? Is it possible +A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" Or +Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, +With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness, +Say this: "Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday +last; +You spurned me such a day; another time +You called me 'dog'; and for these courtesies +I'll lend you thus much moneys"? + +ANTONIO +I am as like to call thee so again, +To spet on thee again, to spurn thee, too. +If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not +As to thy friends, for when did friendship take +A breed for barren metal of his friend? +But lend it rather to thine enemy, +Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face +Exact the penalty. + +SHYLOCK Why, look you how you storm! +I would be friends with you and have your love, +Forget the shames that you have stained me with, +Supply your present wants, and take no doit +Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me! +This is kind I offer. + +BASSANIO This were kindness! + +SHYLOCK This kindness will I show. +Go with me to a notary, seal me there +Your single bond; and in a merry sport, +If you repay me not on such a day, +In such a place, such sum or sums as are +Expressed in the condition, let the forfeit +Be nominated for an equal pound +Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken +In what part of your body pleaseth me. + +ANTONIO +Content, in faith. I'll seal to such a bond, +And say there is much kindness in the Jew. + +BASSANIO +You shall not seal to such a bond for me! +I'll rather dwell in my necessity. + +ANTONIO +Why, fear not, man, I will not forfeit it! +Within these two months--that's a month before +This bond expires--I do expect return +Of thrice three times the value of this bond. + +SHYLOCK +O father Abram, what these Christians are, +Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect +The thoughts of others! Pray you tell me this: +If he should break his day, what should I gain +By the exaction of the forfeiture? +A pound of man's flesh taken from a man +Is not so estimable, profitable neither, +As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, +To buy his favor I extend this friendship. +If he will take it, so. If not, adieu; +And for my love I pray you wrong me not. + +ANTONIO +Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. + +SHYLOCK +Then meet me forthwith at the notary's. +Give him direction for this merry bond, +And I will go and purse the ducats straight, +See to my house left in the fearful guard +Of an unthrifty knave, and presently +I'll be with you. + +ANTONIO Hie thee, gentle Jew. +[Shylock exits.] +The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind. + +BASSANIO +I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. + +ANTONIO +Come on, in this there can be no dismay; +My ships come home a month before the day. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Prince of Morocco, a tawny Moor all in +white, and three or four followers accordingly, with +Portia, Nerissa, and their train.] + + +MOROCCO +Mislike me not for my complexion, +The shadowed livery of the burnished sun, +To whom I am a neighbor and near bred. +Bring me the fairest creature northward born, +Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, +And let us make incision for your love +To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. +I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine +Hath feared the valiant; by my love I swear +The best regarded virgins of our clime +Have loved it too. I would not change this hue +Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. + +PORTIA +In terms of choice I am not solely led +By nice direction of a maiden's eyes; +Besides, the lott'ry of my destiny +Bars me the right of voluntary choosing. +But if my father had not scanted me +And hedged me by his wit to yield myself +His wife who wins me by that means I told you, +Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair +As any comer I have looked on yet +For my affection. + +MOROCCO Even for that I thank you. +Therefore I pray you lead me to the caskets +To try my fortune. By this scimitar +That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince, +That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, +I would o'erstare the sternest eyes that look, +Outbrave the heart most daring on the Earth, +Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, +Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, +To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! +If Hercules and Lychas play at dice +Which is the better man, the greater throw +May turn by fortune from the weaker hand; +So is Alcides beaten by his page, +And so may I, blind Fortune leading me, +Miss that which one unworthier may attain, +And die with grieving. + +PORTIA You must take your chance +And either not attempt to choose at all +Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong +Never to speak to lady afterward +In way of marriage. Therefore be advised. + +MOROCCO +Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance. + +PORTIA +First, forward to the temple. After dinner +Your hazard shall be made. + +MOROCCO Good fortune then, +To make me blest--or cursed'st among men! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lancelet Gobbo the Clown, alone.] + + +LANCELET Certainly my conscience will serve me to +run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine +elbow and tempts me, saying to me "Gobbo, +Lancelet Gobbo, good Lancelet," or "good Gobbo," +or "good Lancelet Gobbo, use your legs, take +the start, run away." My conscience says "No. Take +heed, honest Lancelet, take heed, honest Gobbo," +or, as aforesaid, "honest Lancelet Gobbo, do not +run; scorn running with thy heels." Well, the most +courageous fiend bids me pack. "Fia!" says the +fiend. "Away!" says the fiend. "For the heavens, +rouse up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run!" +Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my +heart, says very wisely to me "My honest friend +Lancelet, being an honest man's son"--or rather, +an honest woman's son, for indeed my father did +something smack, something grow to--he had a +kind of taste--well, my conscience says "Lancelet, +budge not." "Budge," says the fiend. "Budge not," +says my conscience. "Conscience," say I, "you +counsel well." "Fiend," say I, "you counsel well." +To be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the +Jew my master, who (God bless the mark) is a kind +of devil; and to run away from the Jew, I should be +ruled by the fiend, who (saving your reverence) is +the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil +incarnation, and, in my conscience, my conscience +is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel +me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more +friendly counsel. I will run, fiend. My heels are at +your commandment. I will run. + +[Enter old Gobbo with a basket.] + + +GOBBO Master young man, you, I pray you, which is +the way to Master Jew's? + +LANCELET, [aside] O heavens, this is my true begotten +father, who being more than sandblind, high gravelblind, +knows me not. I will try confusions with him. + +GOBBO Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is +the way to Master Jew's? + +LANCELET Turn up on your right hand at the next +turning, but at the next turning of all on your left; +marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, +but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house. + +GOBBO Be God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. +Can you tell me whether one Lancelet, that dwells +with him, dwell with him or no? + +LANCELET Talk you of young Master Lancelet? [Aside.] +Mark me now, now will I raise the waters.--Talk +you of young Master Lancelet? + +GOBBO No master, sir, but a poor man's son. His +father, though I say 't, is an honest exceeding poor +man and, God be thanked, well to live. + +LANCELET Well, let his father be what he will, we talk +of young Master Lancelet. + +GOBBO Your Worship's friend, and Lancelet, sir. + +LANCELET But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech +you, talk you of young Master Lancelet? + +GOBBO Of Lancelet, an 't please your mastership. + +LANCELET Ergo, Master Lancelet. Talk not of Master +Lancelet, father, for the young gentleman, according +to Fates and Destinies, and such odd sayings, the +Sisters Three, and such branches of learning, is +indeed deceased, or, as you would say in plain +terms, gone to heaven. + +GOBBO Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff +of my age, my very prop. + +LANCELET, [aside] Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, +a staff or a prop?--Do you know me, father? + +GOBBO Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman. +But I pray you tell me, is my boy, God rest his +soul, alive or dead? + +LANCELET Do you not know me, father? + +GOBBO Alack, sir, I am sandblind. I know you not. + +LANCELET Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might +fail of the knowing me. It is a wise father that +knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you +news of your son. [He kneels.] Give me your blessing. +Truth will come to light, murder cannot be hid +long--a man's son may, but in the end, truth will +out. + +GOBBO Pray you, sir, stand up! I am sure you are not +Lancelet my boy. + +LANCELET Pray you, let's have no more fooling about +it, but give me your blessing. I am Lancelet, your +boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall +be. + +GOBBO I cannot think you are my son. + +LANCELET I know not what I shall think of that; but I +am Lancelet, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery +your wife is my mother. + +GOBBO Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn if +thou be Lancelet, thou art mine own flesh and +blood. Lord worshiped might He be, what a beard +hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin +than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail. + +LANCELET, [standing up] It should seem, then, that +Dobbin's tail grows backward. I am sure he had +more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I +last saw him. + +GOBBO Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou +and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. +How 'gree you now? + +LANCELET Well, well. But for mine own part, as I have +set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I +have run some ground. My master's a very Jew. +Give him a present! Give him a halter. I am +famished in his service. You may tell every finger I +have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come! +Give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who +indeed gives rare new liveries. If I serve not him, I +will run as far as God has any ground. O rare +fortune, here comes the man! To him, father, for I +am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer. + +[Enter Bassanio with Leonardo and a follower or two.] + + +BASSANIO, [to an Attendant] You may do so, but let it be +so hasted that supper be ready at the farthest by five +of the clock. See these letters delivered, put the +liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to come +anon to my lodging. [The Attendant exits.] + +LANCELET To him, father. + +GOBBO, [to Bassanio] God bless your Worship. + +BASSANIO Gramercy. Wouldst thou aught with me? + +GOBBO Here's my son, sir, a poor boy-- + +LANCELET Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man, +that would, sir, as my father shall specify-- + +GOBBO He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, +to serve-- + +LANCELET Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the +Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify-- + +GOBBO His master and he (saving your Worship's +reverence) are scarce cater-cousins-- + +LANCELET To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, +having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my +father being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto +you-- + +GOBBO I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow +upon your Worship, and my suit is-- + +LANCELET In very brief, the suit is impertinent to +myself, as your Worship shall know by this honest +old man, and though I say it, though old man yet +poor man, my father-- + +BASSANIO One speak for both. What would you? + +LANCELET Serve you, sir. + +GOBBO That is the very defect of the matter, sir. + +BASSANIO, [to Lancelet] +I know thee well. Thou hast obtained thy suit. +Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, +And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment +To leave a rich Jew's service, to become +The follower of so poor a gentleman. + +LANCELET The old proverb is very well parted between +my master Shylock and you, sir: you have "the +grace of God," sir, and he hath "enough." + +BASSANIO +Thou speak'st it well.--Go, father, with thy son.-- +Take leave of thy old master, and inquire +My lodging out. [To an Attendant.] Give him a livery +More guarded than his fellows'. See it done. +[Attendant exits. Bassanio and Leonardo talk apart.] + +LANCELET Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have +ne'er a tongue in my head! Well, [studying his palm] +if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth +offer to swear upon a book--I shall have good +fortune, go to! Here's a simple line of life. Here's a +small trifle of wives--alas, fifteen wives is nothing; +eleven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in +for one man--and then to 'scape drowning +thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a +featherbed! Here are simple 'scapes. Well, if Fortune +be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. +Father, come. I'll take my leave of the Jew in the +twinkling. [Lancelet and old Gobbo exit.] + +BASSANIO +I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this. +[Handing him a paper.] +These things being bought and orderly bestowed, +Return in haste, for I do feast tonight +My best esteemed acquaintance. Hie thee, go. + +LEONARDO +My best endeavors shall be done herein. + +[Enter Gratiano.] + + +GRATIANO, [to Leonardo] Where's your master? + +LEONARDO Yonder, sir, he walks. [Leonardo exits.] + +GRATIANO Signior Bassanio! + +BASSANIO Gratiano! + +GRATIANO I have suit to you. + +BASSANIO You have obtained it. + +GRATIANO You must not deny me. I must go with you +to Belmont. + +BASSANIO +Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano, +Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice-- +Parts that become thee happily enough, +And in such eyes as ours appear not faults. +But where thou art not known--why, there they +show +Something too liberal. Pray thee take pain +To allay with some cold drops of modesty +Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior +I be misconstered in the place I go to, +And lose my hopes. + +GRATIANO Signior Bassanio, hear me. +If I do not put on a sober habit, +Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, +Wear prayer books in my pocket, look demurely, +Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes +Thus with my hat, and sigh and say "amen," +Use all the observance of civility +Like one well studied in a sad ostent +To please his grandam, never trust me more. + +BASSANIO Well, we shall see your bearing. + +GRATIANO +Nay, but I bar tonight. You shall not gauge me +By what we do tonight. + +BASSANIO No, that were pity. +I would entreat you rather to put on +Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends +That purpose merriment. But fare you well. +I have some business. + +GRATIANO +And I must to Lorenzo and the rest. +But we will visit you at supper time. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Jessica and Lancelet Gobbo.] + + +JESSICA +I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so. +Our house is hell and thou, a merry devil, +Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. +But fare thee well. There is a ducat for thee, +And, Lancelet, soon at supper shalt thou see +Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest. +Give him this letter, do it secretly, +And so farewell. I would not have my father +See me in talk with thee. + +LANCELET Adieu. Tears exhibit my tongue, most beautiful +pagan, most sweet Jew. If a Christian do not +play the knave and get thee, I am much deceived. +But adieu. These foolish drops do something drown +my manly spirit. Adieu. + +JESSICA Farewell, good Lancelet. +[Lancelet exits.] +Alack, what heinous sin is it in me +To be ashamed to be my father's child? +But though I am a daughter to his blood, +I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, +If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, +Become a Christian and thy loving wife. +[She exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Solanio.] + + +LORENZO +Nay, we will slink away in supper time, +Disguise us at my lodging, and return +All in an hour. + +GRATIANO +We have not made good preparation. + +SALARINO +We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers. + +SOLANIO +'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered, +And better in my mind not undertook. + +LORENZO +'Tis now but four o'clock. We have two hours +To furnish us. + +[Enter Lancelet.] + +Friend Lancelet, what's the news? + +LANCELET An it shall please you to break up this, it +shall seem to signify. [Handing him Jessica's letter.] + +LORENZO +I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand, +And whiter than the paper it writ on +Is the fair hand that writ. + +GRATIANO Love news, in faith! + +LANCELET By your leave, sir. + +LORENZO Whither goest thou? + +LANCELET Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to +sup tonight with my new master the Christian. + +LORENZO +Hold here, take this. [Giving him money.] Tell gentle +Jessica +I will not fail her. Speak it privately. +[Lancelet exits.] +Go, gentlemen, +Will you prepare you for this masque tonight? +I am provided of a torchbearer. + +SALARINO +Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. + +SOLANIO +And so will I. + +LORENZO Meet me and Gratiano +At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. + +SALARINO 'Tis good we do so. +[Salarino and Solanio exit.] + +GRATIANO +Was not that letter from fair Jessica? + +LORENZO +I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed +How I shall take her from her father's house, +What gold and jewels she is furnished with, +What page's suit she hath in readiness. +If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, +It will be for his gentle daughter's sake; +And never dare misfortune cross her foot +Unless she do it under this excuse, +That she is issue to a faithless Jew. +Come, go with me. Peruse this as thou goest; +[Handing him the letter.] +Fair Jessica shall be my torchbearer. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Shylock, the Jew, and Lancelet, +his man that was, the Clown.] + + +SHYLOCK +Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, +The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.-- +What, Jessica!--Thou shalt not gormandize +As thou hast done with me--what, Jessica!-- +And sleep, and snore, and rend apparel out.-- +Why, Jessica, I say! + +LANCELET Why, Jessica! + +SHYLOCK +Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. + +LANCELET Your Worship was wont to tell me I could +do nothing without bidding. + +[Enter Jessica.] + + +JESSICA Call you? What is your will? + +SHYLOCK +I am bid forth to supper, Jessica. +There are my keys.--But wherefore should I go? +I am not bid for love. They flatter me. +But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon +The prodigal Christian.--Jessica, my girl, +Look to my house.--I am right loath to go. +There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, +For I did dream of money bags tonight. + +LANCELET I beseech you, sir, go. My young master +doth expect your reproach. + +SHYLOCK So do I his. + +LANCELET And they have conspired together--I will +not say you shall see a masque, but if you do, then it +was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on +Black Monday last, at six o'clock i' th' morning, +falling out that year on Ash Wednesday was four +year in th' afternoon. + +SHYLOCK +What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica, +Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum +And the vile squealing of the wry-necked fife, +Clamber not you up to the casements then, +Nor thrust your head into the public street +To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces, +But stop my house's ears (I mean my casements). +Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter +My sober house. By Jacob's staff I swear +I have no mind of feasting forth tonight. +But I will go.--Go you before me, sirrah. +Say I will come. + +LANCELET I will go before, sir. [Aside to Jessica.] Mistress, +look out at window for all this. +There will come a Christian by +Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [He exits.] + +SHYLOCK +What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? + +JESSICA +His words were "Farewell, mistress," nothing else. + +SHYLOCK +The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder, +Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day +More than the wildcat. Drones hive not with me, +Therefore I part with him, and part with him +To one that I would have him help to waste +His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in. +Perhaps I will return immediately. +Do as I bid you. Shut doors after you. +Fast bind, fast find-- +A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [He exits.] + +JESSICA +Farewell, and if my fortune be not crossed, +I have a father, you a daughter, lost. +[She exits.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter the masquers, Gratiano and Salarino.] + + +GRATIANO +This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo +Desired us to make stand. + +SALARINO His hour is almost past. + +GRATIANO +And it is marvel he outdwells his hour, +For lovers ever run before the clock. + +SALARINO +O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly +To seal love's bonds new-made than they are wont +To keep obliged faith unforfeited. + +GRATIANO +That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast +With that keen appetite that he sits down? +Where is the horse that doth untread again +His tedious measures with the unbated fire +That he did pace them first? All things that are, +Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed. +How like a younger or a prodigal +The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, +Hugged and embraced by the strumpet wind; +How like the prodigal doth she return +With overweathered ribs and ragged sails, +Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind! + +[Enter Lorenzo.] + + +SALARINO +Here comes Lorenzo. More of this hereafter. + +LORENZO +Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode. +Not I but my affairs have made you wait. +When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, +I'll watch as long for you then. Approach. +Here dwells my father Jew.--Ho! Who's within? + +[Enter Jessica above, dressed as a boy.] + + +JESSICA +Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, +Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. + +LORENZO Lorenzo, and thy love. + +JESSICA +Lorenzo certain, and my love indeed, +For who love I so much? And now who knows +But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? + +LORENZO +Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art. + +JESSICA +Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. +I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, +For I am much ashamed of my exchange. +But love is blind, and lovers cannot see +The pretty follies that themselves commit, +For if they could, Cupid himself would blush +To see me thus transformed to a boy. + +LORENZO +Descend, for you must be my torchbearer. + +JESSICA +What, must I hold a candle to my shames? +They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. +Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love, +And I should be obscured. + +LORENZO So are you, sweet, +Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. +But come at once, +For the close night doth play the runaway, +And we are stayed for at Bassanio's feast. + +JESSICA +I will make fast the doors and gild myself +With some more ducats, and be with you straight. +[Jessica exits, above.] + +GRATIANO +Now, by my hood, a gentle and no Jew! + +LORENZO +Beshrew me but I love her heartily, +For she is wise, if I can judge of her, +And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, +And true she is, as she hath proved herself. +And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, +Shall she be placed in my constant soul. + +[Enter Jessica, below.] + +What, art thou come? On, gentleman, away! +Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. +[All but Gratiano exit.] + +[Enter Antonio.] + + +ANTONIO Who's there? + +GRATIANO Signior Antonio? + +ANTONIO +Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest? +'Tis nine o'clock! Our friends all stay for you. +No masque tonight; the wind is come about; +Bassanio presently will go aboard. +I have sent twenty out to seek for you. + +GRATIANO +I am glad on 't. I desire no more delight +Than to be under sail and gone tonight. +[They exit.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Portia with the Prince of Morocco and both +their trains.] + + +PORTIA +Go, draw aside the curtains and discover +The several caskets to this noble prince. +[A curtain is drawn.] +Now make your choice. + +MOROCCO +This first, of gold, who this inscription bears, +"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men +desire"; +The second, silver, which this promise carries, +"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he +deserves"; +This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, +"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he +hath." +How shall I know if I do choose the right? + +PORTIA +The one of them contains my picture, prince. +If you choose that, then I am yours withal. + +MOROCCO +Some god direct my judgment! Let me see. +I will survey th' inscriptions back again. +What says this leaden casket? +"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he +hath." +Must give--for what? For lead? Hazard for lead? +This casket threatens. Men that hazard all +Do it in hope of fair advantages. +A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross. +I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. +What says the silver with her virgin hue? +"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he +deserves." +As much as he deserves--pause there, Morocco, +And weigh thy value with an even hand. +If thou beest rated by thy estimation, +Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough +May not extend so far as to the lady. +And yet to be afeard of my deserving +Were but a weak disabling of myself. +As much as I deserve--why, that's the lady! +I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, +In graces, and in qualities of breeding, +But more than these, in love I do deserve. +What if I strayed no farther, but chose here? +Let's see once more this saying graved in gold: +"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men +desire." +Why, that's the lady! All the world desires her. +From the four corners of the Earth they come +To kiss this shrine, this mortal, breathing saint. +The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds +Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now +For princes to come view fair Portia. +The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head +Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar +To stop the foreign spirits, but they come +As o'er a brook to see fair Portia. +One of these three contains her heavenly picture. +Is 't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation +To think so base a thought. It were too gross +To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. +Or shall I think in silver she's immured, +Being ten times undervalued to tried gold? +O, sinful thought! Never so rich a gem +Was set in worse than gold. They have in England +A coin that bears the figure of an angel +Stamped in gold, but that's insculped upon; +But here an angel in a golden bed +Lies all within.--Deliver me the key. +Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may. + +PORTIA +There, take it, prince. [Handing him the key.] And if +my form lie there, +Then I am yours. + [Morocco opens the gold casket.] + +MOROCCO O hell! What have we here? +A carrion death within whose empty eye +There is a written scroll. I'll read the writing: + All that glisters is not gold-- + Often have you heard that told. + Many a man his life hath sold + But my outside to behold. + Gilded tombs do worms infold. + Had you been as wise as bold, + Young in limbs, in judgment old, + Your answer had not been enscrolled. + Fare you well, your suit is cold. +Cold indeed and labor lost! +Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost. +Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart +To take a tedious leave. Thus losers part. +[He exits, with his train.] + +PORTIA +A gentle riddance! Draw the curtains, go. +Let all of his complexion choose me so. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Enter Salarino and Solanio.] + + +SALARINO +Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail; +With him is Gratiano gone along; +And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not. + +SOLANIO +The villain Jew with outcries raised the Duke, +Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship. + +SALARINO +He came too late; the ship was under sail. +But there the Duke was given to understand +That in a gondola were seen together +Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica. +Besides, Antonio certified the Duke +They were not with Bassanio in his ship. + +SOLANIO +I never heard a passion so confused, +So strange, outrageous, and so variable +As the dog Jew did utter in the streets. +"My daughter, O my ducats, O my daughter! +Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! +Justice, the law, my ducats, and my daughter, +A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, +Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter, +And jewels--two stones, two rich and precious +stones-- +Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! Find the girl! +She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats." + +SALARINO +Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, +Crying "His stones, his daughter, and his ducats." + +SOLANIO +Let good Antonio look he keep his day, +Or he shall pay for this. + +SALARINO Marry, well remembered. +I reasoned with a Frenchman yesterday +Who told me, in the Narrow Seas that part +The French and English, there miscarried +A vessel of our country richly fraught. +I thought upon Antonio when he told me, +And wished in silence that it were not his. + +SOLANIO +You were best to tell Antonio what you hear-- +Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. + +SALARINO +A kinder gentleman treads not the Earth. +I saw Bassanio and Antonio part. +Bassanio told him he would make some speed +Of his return. He answered "Do not so. +Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio, +But stay the very riping of the time; +And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, +Let it not enter in your mind of love. +Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts +To courtship and such fair ostents of love +As shall conveniently become you there." +And even there, his eye being big with tears, +Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, +And with affection wondrous sensible +He wrung Bassanio's hand--and so they parted. + +SOLANIO +I think he only loves the world for him. +I pray thee, let us go and find him out +And quicken his embraced heaviness +With some delight or other. + +SALARINO Do we so. +[They exit.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Enter Nerissa and a Servitor.] + + +NERISSA +Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain straight. +The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath +And comes to his election presently. + +[Enter the Prince of Arragon, his train, and Portia.] + + +PORTIA +Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince. +If you choose that wherein I am contained, +Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized. +But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, +You must be gone from hence immediately. + +ARRAGON +I am enjoined by oath to observe three things: +First, never to unfold to anyone +Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail +Of the right casket, never in my life +To woo a maid in way of marriage; +Lastly, if I do fail in fortune of my choice, +Immediately to leave you, and be gone. + +PORTIA +To these injunctions everyone doth swear +That comes to hazard for my worthless self. + +ARRAGON +And so have I addressed me. Fortune now +To my heart's hope! Gold, silver, and base lead. +"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he +hath." +You shall look fairer ere I give or hazard. +What says the golden chest? Ha, let me see: +"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men +desire." +What many men desire--that "many" may be +meant +By the fool multitude that choose by show, +Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach, +Which pries not to th' interior, but like the martlet +Builds in the weather on the outward wall, +Even in the force and road of casualty. +I will not choose what many men desire, +Because I will not jump with common spirits +And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. +Why, then, to thee, thou silver treasure house. +Tell me once more what title thou dost bear. +"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he +deserves." +And well said, too; for who shall go about +To cozen fortune and be honorable +Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume +To wear an undeserved dignity. +O, that estates, degrees, and offices +Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor +Were purchased by the merit of the wearer! +How many then should cover that stand bare? +How many be commanded that command? +How much low peasantry would then be gleaned +From the true seed of honor? And how much honor +Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times, +To be new varnished? Well, but to my choice. +"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he +deserves." +I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, +[He is given a key.] +And instantly unlock my fortunes here. +[He opens the silver casket.] + +PORTIA +Too long a pause for that which you find there. + +ARRAGON +What's here? The portrait of a blinking idiot +Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.-- +How much unlike art thou to Portia! +How much unlike my hopes and my deservings. +"Who chooseth me shall have as much as he +deserves"? +Did I deserve no more than a fool's head? +Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better? + +PORTIA +To offend and judge are distinct offices +And of opposed natures. + +ARRAGON What is here? +[He reads.] + + The fire seven times tried this; + Seven times tried that judgment is + That did never choose amiss. + Some there be that shadows kiss; + Such have but a shadow's bliss. + There be fools alive, iwis, + Silvered o'er--and so was this. + Take what wife you will to bed, + I will ever be your head. + So begone; you are sped. +Still more fool I shall appear +By the time I linger here. +With one fool's head I came to woo, +But I go away with two. +Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath, +Patiently to bear my wroth. [He exits with his train.] + +PORTIA +Thus hath the candle singed the moth. +O, these deliberate fools, when they do choose, +They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. + +NERISSA +The ancient saying is no heresy: +Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. + +PORTIA Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. + +[Enter Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Where is my lady? + +PORTIA Here. What would my +lord? + +MESSENGER +Madam, there is alighted at your gate +A young Venetian, one that comes before +To signify th' approaching of his lord, +From whom he bringeth sensible regreets; +To wit (besides commends and courteous breath), +Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen +So likely an ambassador of love. +A day in April never came so sweet, +To show how costly summer was at hand, +As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. + +PORTIA +No more, I pray thee. I am half afeard +Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, +Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him! +Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to see +Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly. + +NERISSA +Bassanio, Lord Love, if thy will it be! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Solanio and Salarino.] + + +SOLANIO Now, what news on the Rialto? + +SALARINO Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio +hath a ship of rich lading wracked on the +Narrow Seas--the Goodwins, I think they call the +place--a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the +carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, +if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her +word. + +SOLANIO I would she were as lying a gossip in that as +ever knapped ginger or made her neighbors believe +she wept for the death of a third husband. But +it is true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing +the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, +the honest Antonio--O, that I had a title good +enough to keep his name company!-- + +SALARINO Come, the full stop. + +SOLANIO Ha, what sayest thou? Why, the end is, he +hath lost a ship. + +SALARINO I would it might prove the end of his losses. + +SOLANIO Let me say "amen" betimes, lest the devil +cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness +of a Jew. + +[Enter Shylock.] + +How now, Shylock, what news among the +merchants? + +SHYLOCK You knew, none so well, none so well as you, +of my daughter's flight. + +SALARINO That's certain. I for my part knew the tailor +that made the wings she flew withal. + +SOLANIO And Shylock for his own part knew the bird +was fledge, and then it is the complexion of them +all to leave the dam. + +SHYLOCK She is damned for it. + +SALARINO That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. + +SHYLOCK My own flesh and blood to rebel! + +SOLANIO Out upon it, old carrion! Rebels it at these +years? + +SHYLOCK I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood. + +SALARINO There is more difference between thy flesh +and hers than between jet and ivory, more between +your bloods than there is between red wine and +Rhenish. But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio +have had any loss at sea or no? + +SHYLOCK There I have another bad match! A bankrout, +a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on +the Rialto, a beggar that was used to come so smug +upon the mart! Let him look to his bond. He was +wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond. He +was wont to lend money for a Christian cur'sy; let +him look to his bond. + +SALARINO Why, I am sure if he forfeit, thou wilt not +take his flesh! What's that good for? + +SHYLOCK To bait fish withal; if it will feed nothing else, +it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me and +hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, +mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted +my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies-- +and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not +a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, +senses, affections, passions? Fed with the +same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to +the same diseases, healed by the same means, +warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer +as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not +bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you +poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall +we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will +resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, +what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong +a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian +example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I +will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the +instruction. + +[Enter a man from Antonio.] + + +SERVINGMAN Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his +house and desires to speak with you both. + +SALARINO We have been up and down to seek him. + +[Enter Tubal.] + + +SOLANIO Here comes another of the tribe; a third +cannot be matched unless the devil himself turn +Jew. +[Salarino, Solanio, and the Servingman exit.] + +SHYLOCK How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa? +Hast thou found my daughter? + +TUBAL I often came where I did hear of her, but +cannot find her. + +SHYLOCK Why, there, there, there, there! A diamond +gone cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt! +The curse never fell upon our nation till now, I +never felt it till now. Two thousand ducats in that, +and other precious, precious jewels! I would my +daughter were dead at my foot and the jewels in her +ear; would she were hearsed at my foot and the +ducats in her coffin. No news of them? Why so? And +I know not what's spent in the search! Why, thou +loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so +much to find the thief, and no satisfaction, no +revenge, nor no ill luck stirring but what lights a' my +shoulders, no sighs but a' my breathing, no tears but +a' my shedding. + +TUBAL Yes, other men have ill luck, too. Antonio, as I +heard in Genoa-- + +SHYLOCK What, what, what? Ill luck, ill luck? + +TUBAL --hath an argosy cast away coming from +Tripolis. + +SHYLOCK I thank God, I thank God! Is it true, is it true? + +TUBAL I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped +the wrack. + +SHYLOCK I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good +news! Ha, ha, heard in Genoa-- + +TUBAL Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one +night fourscore ducats. + +SHYLOCK Thou stick'st a dagger in me. I shall never +see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting, +fourscore ducats! + +TUBAL There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my +company to Venice that swear he cannot choose +but break. + +SHYLOCK I am very glad of it. I'll plague him, I'll +torture him. I am glad of it. + +TUBAL One of them showed me a ring that he had of +your daughter for a monkey. + +SHYLOCK Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal. It +was my turquoise! I had it of Leah when I was a +bachelor. I would not have given it for a wilderness +of monkeys. + +TUBAL But Antonio is certainly undone. + +SHYLOCK Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, +fee me an officer. Bespeak him a fortnight before. I +will have the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he +out of Venice I can make what merchandise I will. +Go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue. Go, good +Tubal, at our synagogue, Tubal. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Bassanio, Portia, and all their trains, Gratiano, +Nerissa.] + + +PORTIA +I pray you tarry, pause a day or two +Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong +I lose your company; therefore forbear a while. +There's something tells me (but it is not love) +I would not lose you, and you know yourself +Hate counsels not in such a quality. +But lest you should not understand me well +(And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought) +I would detain you here some month or two +Before you venture for me. I could teach you +How to choose right, but then I am forsworn. +So will I never be. So may you miss me. +But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, +That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, +They have o'erlooked me and divided me. +One half of me is yours, the other half yours-- +Mine own, I would say--but if mine, then yours, +And so all yours. O, these naughty times +Puts bars between the owners and their rights! +And so though yours, not yours. Prove it so, +Let Fortune go to hell for it, not I. +I speak too long, but 'tis to peize the time, +To eche it, and to draw it out in length, +To stay you from election. + +BASSANIO Let me choose, +For as I am, I live upon the rack. + +PORTIA +Upon the rack, Bassanio? Then confess +What treason there is mingled with your love. + +BASSANIO +None but that ugly treason of mistrust, +Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love. +There may as well be amity and life +'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. + +PORTIA +Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack +Where men enforced do speak anything. + +BASSANIO +Promise me life and I'll confess the truth. + +PORTIA +Well, then, confess and live. + +BASSANIO "Confess and love" +Had been the very sum of my confession. +O happy torment, when my torturer +Doth teach me answers for deliverance! +But let me to my fortune and the caskets. + +PORTIA +Away, then. I am locked in one of them. +If you do love me, you will find me out.-- +Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. +Let music sound while he doth make his choice. +Then if he lose he makes a swanlike end, +Fading in music. That the comparison +May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream +And wat'ry deathbed for him. He may win, +And what is music then? Then music is +Even as the flourish when true subjects bow +To a new-crowned monarch. Such it is +As are those dulcet sounds in break of day +That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear +And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, +With no less presence but with much more love +Than young Alcides when he did redeem +The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy +To the sea-monster. I stand for sacrifice; +The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, +With bleared visages, come forth to view +The issue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules! +Live thou, I live. With much much more dismay +I view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray. + +[A song the whilst Bassanio comments on +the caskets to himself.] + + + + Tell me where is fancy bred, + Or in the heart, or in the head? + How begot, how nourished? + Reply, reply. + It is engendered in the eye, + With gazing fed, and fancy dies + In the cradle where it lies. + Let us all ring fancy's knell. + I'll begin it.--Ding, dong, bell. + +ALL Ding, dong, bell. + +BASSANIO +So may the outward shows be least themselves; +The world is still deceived with ornament. +In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt +But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, +Obscures the show of evil? In religion, +What damned error but some sober brow +Will bless it and approve it with a text, +Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? +There is no vice so simple but assumes +Some mark of virtue on his outward parts. +How many cowards whose hearts are all as false +As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins +The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, +Who inward searched have livers white as milk, +And these assume but valor's excrement +To render them redoubted. Look on beauty, +And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight, +Which therein works a miracle in nature, +Making them lightest that wear most of it. +So are those crisped snaky golden locks, +Which maketh such wanton gambols with the wind +Upon supposed fairness, often known +To be the dowry of a second head, +The skull that bred them in the sepulcher. +Thus ornament is but the guiled shore +To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf +Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word, +The seeming truth which cunning times put on +To entrap the wisest. Therefore, then, thou gaudy +gold, +Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee. +Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge +'Tween man and man. But thou, thou meager lead, +Which rather threaten'st than dost promise aught, +Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence, +And here choose I. Joy be the consequence! +[Bassanio is given a key.] + +PORTIA, [aside] +How all the other passions fleet to air, +As doubtful thoughts and rash embraced despair, +And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy! +O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy, +In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess! +I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less, +For fear I surfeit. +[Bassanio opens the lead casket.] + +BASSANIO What find I here? +Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demigod +Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes? +Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, +Seem they in motion? Here are severed lips +Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a bar +Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs +The painter plays the spider, and hath woven +A golden mesh t' entrap the hearts of men +Faster than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes! +How could he see to do them? Having made one, +Methinks it should have power to steal both his +And leave itself unfurnished. Yet look how far +The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow +In underprizing it, so far this shadow +Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, +The continent and summary of my fortune. +[He reads the scroll.] + You that choose not by the view + Chance as fair and choose as true. + Since this fortune falls to you, + Be content and seek no new. + If you be well pleased with this + And hold your fortune for your bliss, + Turn you where your lady is, + And claim her with a loving kiss. +A gentle scroll! Fair lady, by your leave, +I come by note to give and to receive. +Like one of two contending in a prize +That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, +Hearing applause and universal shout, +Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt +Whether those peals of praise be his or no, +So, thrice-fair lady, stand I even so, +As doubtful whether what I see be true, +Until confirmed, signed, ratified by you. + +PORTIA +You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, +Such as I am. Though for myself alone +I would not be ambitious in my wish +To wish myself much better, yet for you +I would be trebled twenty times myself, +A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times +More rich, that only to stand high in your account +I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, +Exceed account. But the full sum of me +Is sum of something, which, to term in gross, +Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticed; +Happy in this, she is not yet so old +But she may learn; happier than this, +She is not bred so dull but she can learn; +Happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit +Commits itself to yours to be directed +As from her lord, her governor, her king. +Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours +Is now converted. But now I was the lord +Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, +Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, +This house, these servants, and this same myself +Are yours, my lord's. I give them with this ring, +[Handing him a ring.] +Which, when you part from, lose, or give away, +Let it presage the ruin of your love, +And be my vantage to exclaim on you. + +BASSANIO +Madam, you have bereft me of all words. +Only my blood speaks to you in my veins, +And there is such confusion in my powers +As after some oration fairly spoke +By a beloved prince there doth appear +Among the buzzing pleased multitude, +Where every something being blent together +Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy +Expressed and not expressed. But when this ring +Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence. +O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead! + +NERISSA +My lord and lady, it is now our time, +That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, +To cry "Good joy, good joy, my lord and lady!" + +GRATIANO +My Lord Bassanio, and my gentle lady, +I wish you all the joy that you can wish, +For I am sure you can wish none from me. +And when your honors mean to solemnize +The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you +Even at that time I may be married too. + +BASSANIO +With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. + +GRATIANO +I thank your Lordship, you have got me one. +My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours: +You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid. +You loved, I loved; for intermission +No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. +Your fortune stood upon the caskets there, +And so did mine, too, as the matter falls. +For wooing here until I sweat again, +And swearing till my very roof was dry +With oaths of love, at last (if promise last) +I got a promise of this fair one here +To have her love, provided that your fortune +Achieved her mistress. + +PORTIA Is this true, Nerissa? + +NERISSA +Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal. + +BASSANIO +And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? + +GRATIANO Yes, faith, my lord. + +BASSANIO +Our feast shall be much honored in your marriage. + +GRATIANO We'll play with them the first boy for a +thousand ducats. + +NERISSA What, and stake down? + +GRATIANO No, we shall ne'er win at that sport and +stake down. + +[Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salerio, a messenger +from Venice.] + +But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? +What, and my old Venetian friend Salerio? + +BASSANIO +Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither-- +If that the youth of my new int'rest here +Have power to bid you welcome. [To Portia.] By +your leave, +I bid my very friends and countrymen, +Sweet Portia, welcome. + +PORTIA +So do I, my lord. They are entirely welcome. + +LORENZO, [to Bassanio] +I thank your Honor. For my part, my lord, +My purpose was not to have seen you here, +But meeting with Salerio by the way, +He did entreat me past all saying nay +To come with him along. + +SALERIO I did, my lord, +And I have reason for it. [Handing him a paper.] +Signior Antonio +Commends him to you. + +BASSANIO Ere I ope his letter, +I pray you tell me how my good friend doth. + +SALERIO +Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind, +Nor well, unless in mind. His letter there +Will show you his estate. +[Bassanio opens the letter.] + +GRATIANO +Nerissa, cheer yond stranger, bid her welcome.-- +Your hand, Salerio. What's the news from Venice? +How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? +I know he will be glad of our success. +We are the Jasons, we have won the Fleece. + +SALERIO +I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost. + +PORTIA +There are some shrewd contents in yond same +paper +That steals the color from Bassanio's cheek. +Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world +Could turn so much the constitution +Of any constant man. What, worse and worse?-- +With leave, Bassanio, I am half yourself, +And I must freely have the half of anything +That this same paper brings you. + +BASSANIO O sweet Portia, +Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words +That ever blotted paper. Gentle lady, +When I did first impart my love to you, +I freely told you all the wealth I had +Ran in my veins: I was a gentleman. +And then I told you true; and yet, dear lady, +Rating myself at nothing, you shall see +How much I was a braggart. When I told you +My state was nothing, I should then have told you +That I was worse than nothing; for indeed +I have engaged myself to a dear friend, +Engaged my friend to his mere enemy +To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady, +The paper as the body of my friend, +And every word in it a gaping wound +Issuing life blood.--But is it true, Salerio? +Hath all his ventures failed? What, not one hit? +From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, +From Lisbon, Barbary, and India, +And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch +Of merchant-marring rocks? + +SALERIO Not one, my lord. +Besides, it should appear that if he had +The present money to discharge the Jew, +He would not take it. Never did I know +A creature that did bear the shape of man +So keen and greedy to confound a man. +He plies the Duke at morning and at night, +And doth impeach the freedom of the state +If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants, +The Duke himself, and the magnificoes +Of greatest port have all persuaded with him, +But none can drive him from the envious plea +Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond. + +JESSICA +When I was with him, I have heard him swear +To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, +That he would rather have Antonio's flesh +Than twenty times the value of the sum +That he did owe him. And I know, my lord, +If law, authority, and power deny not, +It will go hard with poor Antonio. + +PORTIA +Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble? + +BASSANIO +The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, +The best conditioned and unwearied spirit +In doing courtesies, and one in whom +The ancient Roman honor more appears +Than any that draws breath in Italy. + +PORTIA What sum owes he the Jew? + +BASSANIO +For me, three thousand ducats. + +PORTIA What, no more? +Pay him six thousand and deface the bond. +Double six thousand and then treble that, +Before a friend of this description +Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault. +First go with me to church and call me wife, +And then away to Venice to your friend! +For never shall you lie by Portia's side +With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold +To pay the petty debt twenty times over. +When it is paid, bring your true friend along. +My maid Nerissa and myself meantime +Will live as maids and widows. Come, away, +For you shall hence upon your wedding day. +Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer; +Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. +But let me hear the letter of your friend. + +BASSANIO [reads] +Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my +creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to +the Jew is forfeit, and since in paying it, it is impossible +I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I if +I might but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use +your pleasure. If your love do not persuade you to +come, let not my letter. + +PORTIA +O love, dispatch all business and begone! + +BASSANIO +Since I have your good leave to go away, +I will make haste. But till I come again, +No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, +Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Shylock, the Jew, and Solanio, and Antonio, +and the Jailer.] + + +SHYLOCK +Jailer, look to him. Tell not me of mercy. +This is the fool that lent out money gratis. +Jailer, look to him. + +ANTONIO Hear me yet, good Shylock-- + +SHYLOCK +I'll have my bond. Speak not against my bond. +I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. +Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause, +But since I am a dog, beware my fangs. +The Duke shall grant me justice.--I do wonder, +Thou naughty jailer, that thou art so fond +To come abroad with him at his request. + +ANTONIO I pray thee, hear me speak-- + +SHYLOCK +I'll have my bond. I will not hear thee speak. +I'll have my bond, and therefore speak no more. +I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, +To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield +To Christian intercessors. Follow not! +I'll have no speaking. I will have my bond. [He exits.] + +SOLANIO +It is the most impenetrable cur +That ever kept with men. + +ANTONIO Let him alone. +I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers. +He seeks my life. His reason well I know: +I oft delivered from his forfeitures +Many that have at times made moan to me. +Therefore he hates me. + +SOLANIO I am sure the Duke +Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. + +ANTONIO +The Duke cannot deny the course of law, +For the commodity that strangers have +With us in Venice, if it be denied, +Will much impeach the justice of the state, +Since that the trade and profit of the city +Consisteth of all nations. Therefore go. +These griefs and losses have so bated me +That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh +Tomorrow to my bloody creditor.-- +Well, jailer, on.--Pray God Bassanio come +To see me pay his debt, and then I care not. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and Balthazar, +a man of Portia's.] + + +LORENZO +Madam, although I speak it in your presence, +You have a noble and a true conceit +Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly +In bearing thus the absence of your lord. +But if you knew to whom you show this honor, +How true a gentleman you send relief, +How dear a lover of my lord your husband, +I know you would be prouder of the work +Than customary bounty can enforce you. + +PORTIA +I never did repent for doing good, +Nor shall not now; for in companions +That do converse and waste the time together, +Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, +There must be needs a like proportion +Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit; +Which makes me think that this Antonio, +Being the bosom lover of my lord, +Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, +How little is the cost I have bestowed +In purchasing the semblance of my soul +From out the state of hellish cruelty! +This comes too near the praising of myself; +Therefore no more of it. Hear other things: +Lorenzo, I commit into your hands +The husbandry and manage of my house +Until my lord's return. For mine own part, +I have toward heaven breathed a secret vow +To live in prayer and contemplation, +Only attended by Nerissa here, +Until her husband and my lord's return. +There is a monastery two miles off, +And there we will abide. I do desire you +Not to deny this imposition, +The which my love and some necessity +Now lays upon you. + +LORENZO Madam, with all my heart. +I shall obey you in all fair commands. + +PORTIA +My people do already know my mind +And will acknowledge you and Jessica +In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. +So fare you well till we shall meet again. + +LORENZO +Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! + +JESSICA +I wish your Ladyship all heart's content. + +PORTIA +I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased +To wish it back on you. Fare you well, Jessica. +[Lorenzo and Jessica exit.] +Now, Balthazar, +As I have ever found thee honest true, +So let me find thee still: take this same letter, +And use thou all th' endeavor of a man +In speed to Padua. See thou render this +Into my cousin's hands, Doctor Bellario. +[She gives him a paper.] +And look what notes and garments he doth give +thee, +Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined speed +Unto the traject, to the common ferry +Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, +But get thee gone. I shall be there before thee. + +BALTHAZAR +Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [He exits.] + +PORTIA +Come on, Nerissa, I have work in hand +That you yet know not of. We'll see our husbands +Before they think of us. + +NERISSA Shall they see us? + +PORTIA +They shall, Nerissa, but in such a habit +That they shall think we are accomplished +With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, +When we are both accoutered like young men, +I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, +And wear my dagger with the braver grace, +And speak between the change of man and boy +With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps +Into a manly stride, and speak of frays +Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies +How honorable ladies sought my love, +Which I denying, they fell sick and died-- +I could not do withal!--then I'll repent, +And wish, for all that, that I had not killed them. +And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell, +That men shall swear I have discontinued school +Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind +A thousand raw tricks of these bragging jacks +Which I will practice. + +NERISSA Why, shall we turn to men? + +PORTIA Fie, what a question's that, +If thou wert near a lewd interpreter! +But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device +When I am in my coach, which stays for us +At the park gate; and therefore haste away, +For we must measure twenty miles today. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Lancelet, the Clown, and Jessica.] + + +LANCELET Yes, truly, for look you, the sins of the father +are to be laid upon the children. Therefore I +promise you I fear you. I was always plain with you, +and so now I speak my agitation of the matter. +Therefore be o' good cheer, for truly I think you +are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do +you any good, and that is but a kind of bastard hope +neither. + +JESSICA And what hope is that, I pray thee? + +LANCELET Marry, you may partly hope that your father +got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter. + +JESSICA That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so +the sins of my mother should be visited upon me! + +LANCELET Truly, then, I fear you are damned both by +father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla your +father, I fall into Charybdis your mother. Well, you +are gone both ways. + +JESSICA I shall be saved by my husband. He hath made +me a Christian. + +LANCELET Truly the more to blame he! We were Christians +enow before, e'en as many as could well live +one by another. This making of Christians will +raise the price of hogs. If we grow all to be pork +eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the +coals for money. + +[Enter Lorenzo.] + + +JESSICA I'll tell my husband, Lancelet, what you say. +Here he comes. + +LORENZO I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Lancelet, +if you thus get my wife into corners! + +JESSICA Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo. Lancelet +and I are out. He tells me flatly there's no mercy for +me in heaven because I am a Jew's daughter; and +he says you are no good member of the commonwealth, +for in converting Jews to Christians you +raise the price of pork. + +LORENZO I shall answer that better to the commonwealth +than you can the getting up of the Negro's +belly! The Moor is with child by you, Lancelet. + +LANCELET It is much that the Moor should be more +than reason; but if she be less than an honest +woman, she is indeed more than I took her for. + +LORENZO How every fool can play upon the word! I +think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into +silence, and discourse grow commendable in none +only but parrots. Go in, sirrah, bid them prepare for +dinner. + +LANCELET That is done, sir. They have all stomachs. + +LORENZO Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! +Then bid them prepare dinner. + +LANCELET That is done too, sir, only "cover" is the +word. + +LORENZO Will you cover, then, sir? + +LANCELET Not so, sir, neither! I know my duty. + +LORENZO Yet more quarreling with occasion! Wilt +thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an +instant? I pray thee understand a plain man in his +plain meaning: go to thy fellows, bid them cover the +table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to +dinner. + +LANCELET For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for +the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in +to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humors and conceits +shall govern. [Lancelet exits.] + +LORENZO +O dear discretion, how his words are suited! +The fool hath planted in his memory +An army of good words, and I do know +A many fools that stand in better place, +Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word +Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica? +And now, good sweet, say thy opinion +How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife? + +JESSICA +Past all expressing. It is very meet +The Lord Bassanio live an upright life, +For having such a blessing in his lady +He finds the joys of heaven here on Earth, +And if on Earth he do not merit it, +In reason he should never come to heaven. +Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match, +And on the wager lay two earthly women, +And Portia one, there must be something else +Pawned with the other, for the poor rude world +Hath not her fellow. + +LORENZO Even such a husband +Hast thou of me as she is for a wife. + +JESSICA +Nay, but ask my opinion too of that! + +LORENZO +I will anon. First let us go to dinner. + +JESSICA +Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach! + +LORENZO +No, pray thee, let it serve for table talk. +Then howsome'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things +I shall digest it. + +JESSICA Well, I'll set you forth. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, +Salerio, and Gratiano, with Attendants.] + + +DUKE What, is Antonio here? + +ANTONIO Ready, so please your Grace. + +DUKE +I am sorry for thee. Thou art come to answer +A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, +Uncapable of pity, void and empty +From any dram of mercy. + +ANTONIO I have heard +Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify +His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate, +And that no lawful means can carry me +Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose +My patience to his fury, and am armed +To suffer with a quietness of spirit +The very tyranny and rage of his. + +DUKE +Go, one, and call the Jew into the court. + +SALERIO +He is ready at the door. He comes, my lord. + +[Enter Shylock.] + + +DUKE +Make room, and let him stand before our face.-- +Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, +That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice +To the last hour of act, and then, 'tis thought, +Thou 'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange +Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; +And where thou now exacts the penalty, +Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh, +Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, +But, touched with humane gentleness and love, +Forgive a moi'ty of the principal, +Glancing an eye of pity on his losses +That have of late so huddled on his back, +Enow to press a royal merchant down +And pluck commiseration of his state +From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, +From stubborn Turks, and Tartars never trained +To offices of tender courtesy. +We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. + +SHYLOCK +I have possessed your Grace of what I purpose, +And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn +To have the due and forfeit of my bond. +If you deny it, let the danger light +Upon your charter and your city's freedom! +You'll ask me why I rather choose to have +A weight of carrion flesh than to receive +Three thousand ducats. I'll not answer that, +But say it is my humor. Is it answered? +What if my house be troubled with a rat, +And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats +To have it baned? What, are you answered yet? +Some men there are love not a gaping pig, +Some that are mad if they behold a cat, +And others, when the bagpipe sings i' th' nose, +Cannot contain their urine; for affection +Masters oft passion, sways it to the mood +Of what it likes or loathes. Now for your answer: +As there is no firm reason to be rendered +Why he cannot abide a gaping pig, +Why he a harmless necessary cat, +Why he a woolen bagpipe, but of force +Must yield to such inevitable shame +As to offend, himself being offended, +So can I give no reason, nor I will not, +More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing +I bear Antonio, that I follow thus +A losing suit against him. Are you answered? + +BASSANIO +This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, +To excuse the current of thy cruelty. + +SHYLOCK +I am not bound to please thee with my answers. + +BASSANIO +Do all men kill the things they do not love? + +SHYLOCK +Hates any man the thing he would not kill? + +BASSANIO +Every offence is not a hate at first. + +SHYLOCK +What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? + +ANTONIO, [to Bassanio] +I pray you, think you question with the Jew. +You may as well go stand upon the beach +And bid the main flood bate his usual height; +You may as well use question with the wolf +Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; +You may as well forbid the mountain pines +To wag their high tops and to make no noise +When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven; +You may as well do anything most hard +As seek to soften that than which what's harder?-- +His Jewish heart. Therefore I do beseech you +Make no more offers, use no farther means, +But with all brief and plain conveniency +Let me have judgment and the Jew his will. + +BASSANIO +For thy three thousand ducats here is six. + +SHYLOCK +If every ducat in six thousand ducats +Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, +I would not draw them. I would have my bond. + +DUKE +How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none? + +SHYLOCK +What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? +You have among you many a purchased slave, +Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, +You use in abject and in slavish parts +Because you bought them. Shall I say to you +"Let them be free! Marry them to your heirs! +Why sweat they under burdens? Let their beds +Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates +Be seasoned with such viands"? You will answer +"The slaves are ours!" So do I answer you: +The pound of flesh which I demand of him +Is dearly bought; 'tis mine and I will have it. +If you deny me, fie upon your law: +There is no force in the decrees of Venice. +I stand for judgment. Answer: shall I have it? + +DUKE +Upon my power I may dismiss this court +Unless Bellario, a learned doctor +Whom I have sent for to determine this, +Come here today. + +SALERIO My lord, here stays without +A messenger with letters from the doctor, +New come from Padua. + +DUKE +Bring us the letters. Call the messenger. + +BASSANIO +Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet! +The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all +Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood! + +ANTONIO +I am a tainted wether of the flock, +Meetest for death. The weakest kind of fruit +Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. +You cannot better be employed, Bassanio, +Than to live still and write mine epitaph. + +[Enter Nerissa, disguised as a lawyer's clerk.] + + +DUKE +Came you from Padua, from Bellario? + +NERISSA, [as Clerk] +From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace. +[Handing him a paper, which he reads, aside, while +Shylock sharpens his knife on the sole of his shoe.] + +BASSANIO +Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? + +SHYLOCK +To cut the forfeiture from that bankrout there. + +GRATIANO +Not on thy sole but on thy soul, harsh Jew, +Thou mak'st thy knife keen. But no metal can, +No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness +Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? + +SHYLOCK +No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. + +GRATIANO +O, be thou damned, inexecrable dog, +And for thy life let justice be accused; +Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, +To hold opinion with Pythagoras +That souls of animals infuse themselves +Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit +Governed a wolf who, hanged for human slaughter, +Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, +And whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam, +Infused itself in thee, for thy desires +Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous. + +SHYLOCK +Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond, +Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud. +Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall +To cureless ruin. I stand here for law. + +DUKE +This letter from Bellario doth commend +A young and learned doctor to our court. +Where is he? + +NERISSA, [as Clerk] He attendeth here hard by +To know your answer whether you'll admit him. + +DUKE +With all my heart.--Some three or four of you +Go give him courteous conduct to this place. +[Attendants exit.] +Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter. +[He reads.] +Your Grace shall understand that, at the receipt of +your letter, I am very sick, but in the instant that your +messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a +young doctor of Rome. His name is Balthazar. I +acquainted him with the cause in controversy between +the Jew and Antonio the merchant. We turned o'er +many books together. He is furnished with my opinion, +which, bettered with his own learning (the greatness +whereof I cannot enough commend), comes with +him at my importunity to fill up your Grace's request +in my stead. I beseech you let his lack of years be no +impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation, for I +never knew so young a body with so old a head. I +leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial +shall better publish his commendation. + +You hear the learned Bellario what he writes. + +[Enter Portia for Balthazar, disguised as a doctor of +laws, with Attendants.] + +And here I take it is the doctor come.-- +Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario? + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I did, my lord. + +DUKE You are welcome. Take your place. +Are you acquainted with the difference +That holds this present question in the court? + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I am informed throughly of the cause. +Which is the merchant here? And which the Jew? + +DUKE +Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Is your name Shylock? + +SHYLOCK Shylock is my name. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Of a strange nature is the suit you follow, +Yet in such rule that the Venetian law +Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. +[To Antonio.] You stand within his danger, do you +not? + +ANTONIO +Ay, so he says. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Do you confess the bond? + +ANTONIO +I do. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Then must the Jew be merciful. + +SHYLOCK +On what compulsion must I? Tell me that. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +The quality of mercy is not strained. +It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven +Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: +It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. +'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes +The throned monarch better than his crown. +His scepter shows the force of temporal power, +The attribute to awe and majesty +Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; +But mercy is above this sceptered sway. +It is enthroned in the hearts of kings; +It is an attribute to God Himself; +And earthly power doth then show likest God's +When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, +Though justice be thy plea, consider this: +That in the course of justice none of us +Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy, +And that same prayer doth teach us all to render +The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much +To mitigate the justice of thy plea, +Which, if thou follow, this strict court of Venice +Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant +there. + +SHYLOCK +My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, +The penalty and forfeit of my bond. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Is he not able to discharge the money? + +BASSANIO +Yes. Here I tender it for him in the court, +Yea, twice the sum. If that will not suffice, +I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er +On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart. +If this will not suffice, it must appear +That malice bears down truth. [To the Duke.] And I +beseech you, +Wrest once the law to your authority. +To do a great right, do a little wrong, +And curb this cruel devil of his will. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +It must not be. There is no power in Venice +Can alter a decree established; +'Twill be recorded for a precedent +And many an error by the same example +Will rush into the state. It cannot be. + +SHYLOCK +A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel. +O wise young judge, how I do honor thee! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I pray you let me look upon the bond. + +SHYLOCK +Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. +[Handing Portia a paper.] + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee. + +SHYLOCK +An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven! +Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? +No, not for Venice! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Why, this bond is forfeit, +And lawfully by this the Jew may claim +A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off +Nearest the merchant's heart.--Be merciful; +Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. + +SHYLOCK +When it is paid according to the tenor. +It doth appear you are a worthy judge; +You know the law; your exposition +Hath been most sound. I charge you by the law, +Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, +Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear +There is no power in the tongue of man +To alter me. I stay here on my bond. + +ANTONIO +Most heartily I do beseech the court +To give the judgment. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Why, then, thus it is: +You must prepare your bosom for his knife-- + +SHYLOCK +O noble judge! O excellent young man! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +For the intent and purpose of the law +Hath full relation to the penalty, +Which here appeareth due upon the bond. + +SHYLOCK +'Tis very true. O wise and upright judge, +How much more elder art thou than thy looks! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar, to Antonio] +Therefore lay bare your bosom-- + +SHYLOCK Ay, his breast! +So says the bond, doth it not, noble judge? +"Nearest his heart." Those are the very words. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +It is so. +Are there balance here to weigh the flesh? + +SHYLOCK I have them ready. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, +To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. + +SHYLOCK +Is it so nominated in the bond? + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +It is not so expressed, but what of that? +'Twere good you do so much for charity. + +SHYLOCK +I cannot find it. 'Tis not in the bond. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +You, merchant, have you anything to say? + +ANTONIO +But little. I am armed and well prepared.-- +Give me your hand, Bassanio. Fare you well. +Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you, +For herein Fortune shows herself more kind +Than is her custom: it is still her use +To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, +To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow +An age of poverty, from which ling'ring penance +Of such misery doth she cut me off. +Commend me to your honorable wife, +Tell her the process of Antonio's end, +Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death, +And when the tale is told, bid her be judge +Whether Bassanio had not once a love. +Repent but you that you shall lose your friend +And he repents not that he pays your debt. +For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, +I'll pay it instantly with all my heart. + +BASSANIO +Antonio, I am married to a wife +Which is as dear to me as life itself, +But life itself, my wife, and all the world +Are not with me esteemed above thy life. +I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all +Here to this devil, to deliver you. + +PORTIA, [aside] +Your wife would give you little thanks for that +If she were by to hear you make the offer. + +GRATIANO +I have a wife who I protest I love. +I would she were in heaven, so she could +Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. + +NERISSA, [aside] +'Tis well you offer it behind her back. +The wish would make else an unquiet house. + +SHYLOCK +These be the Christian husbands! I have a +daughter-- +Would any of the stock of Barabbas +Had been her husband, rather than a Christian! +We trifle time. I pray thee, pursue sentence. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine: +The court awards it, and the law doth give it. + +SHYLOCK Most rightful judge! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: +The law allows it, and the court awards it. + +SHYLOCK +Most learned judge! A sentence!--Come, prepare. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Tarry a little. There is something else. +This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood. +The words expressly are "a pound of flesh." +Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh, +But in the cutting it, if thou dost shed +One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods +Are by the laws of Venice confiscate +Unto the state of Venice. + +GRATIANO +O upright judge!--Mark, Jew.--O learned judge! + +SHYLOCK +Is that the law? + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Thyself shalt see the act. +For, as thou urgest justice, be assured +Thou shalt have justice more than thou desir'st. + +GRATIANO +O learned judge!--Mark, Jew, a learned judge! + +SHYLOCK +I take this offer then. Pay the bond thrice +And let the Christian go. + +BASSANIO Here is the money. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Soft! The Jew shall have all justice. Soft, no haste! +He shall have nothing but the penalty. + +GRATIANO +O Jew, an upright judge, a learned judge! + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. +Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more +But just a pound of flesh. If thou tak'st more +Or less than a just pound, be it but so much +As makes it light or heavy in the substance +Or the division of the twentieth part +Of one poor scruple--nay, if the scale do turn +But in the estimation of a hair, +Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. + +GRATIANO +A second Daniel! A Daniel, Jew! +Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Why doth the Jew pause? Take thy forfeiture. + +SHYLOCK +Give me my principal and let me go. + +BASSANIO +I have it ready for thee. Here it is. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +He hath refused it in the open court. +He shall have merely justice and his bond. + +GRATIANO +A Daniel still, say I! A second Daniel!-- +I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. + +SHYLOCK +Shall I not have barely my principal? + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture +To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. + +SHYLOCK +Why, then, the devil give him good of it! +I'll stay no longer question. [He begins to exit.] + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Tarry, Jew. +The law hath yet another hold on you. +It is enacted in the laws of Venice, +If it be proved against an alien +That by direct or indirect attempts +He seek the life of any citizen, +The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive +Shall seize one half his goods; the other half +Comes to the privy coffer of the state, +And the offender's life lies in the mercy +Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice. +In which predicament I say thou stand'st, +For it appears by manifest proceeding +That indirectly, and directly too, +Thou hast contrived against the very life +Of the defendant, and thou hast incurred +The danger formerly by me rehearsed. +Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke. + +GRATIANO +Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself! +And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, +Thou hast not left the value of a cord; +Therefore thou must be hanged at the state's +charge. + +DUKE +That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, +I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it. +For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's; +The other half comes to the general state, +Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. + +SHYLOCK +Nay, take my life and all. Pardon not that. +You take my house when you do take the prop +That doth sustain my house; you take my life +When you do take the means whereby I live. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +What mercy can you render him, Antonio? + +GRATIANO +A halter gratis, nothing else, for God's sake! + +ANTONIO +So please my lord the Duke and all the court +To quit the fine for one half of his goods, +I am content, so he will let me have +The other half in use, to render it +Upon his death unto the gentleman +That lately stole his daughter. +Two things provided more: that for this favor +He presently become a Christian; +The other, that he do record a gift, +Here in the court, of all he dies possessed +Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. + +DUKE +He shall do this, or else I do recant +The pardon that I late pronounced here. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say? + +SHYLOCK +I am content. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] Clerk, draw a deed of gift. + +SHYLOCK +I pray you give me leave to go from hence. +I am not well. Send the deed after me +And I will sign it. + +DUKE Get thee gone, but do it. + +GRATIANO +In christ'ning shalt thou have two godfathers. +Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, +To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font. +[Shylock exits.] + +DUKE, [to Portia as Balthazar] +Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I humbly do desire your Grace of pardon. +I must away this night toward Padua, +And it is meet I presently set forth. + +DUKE +I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.-- +Antonio, gratify this gentleman, +For in my mind you are much bound to him. +[The Duke and his train exit.] + +BASSANIO, [to Portia as Balthazar] +Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend +Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted +Of grievous penalties, in lieu whereof +Three thousand ducats due unto the Jew +We freely cope your courteous pains withal. + +ANTONIO +And stand indebted, over and above, +In love and service to you evermore. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +He is well paid that is well satisfied, +And I, delivering you, am satisfied, +And therein do account myself well paid. +My mind was never yet more mercenary. +I pray you know me when we meet again. +I wish you well, and so I take my leave. +[She begins to exit.] + +BASSANIO +Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further. +Take some remembrance of us as a tribute, +Not as fee. Grant me two things, I pray you: +Not to deny me, and to pardon me. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +You press me far, and therefore I will yield. +Give me your gloves; I'll wear them for your sake-- +And for your love I'll take this ring from you. +Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more, +And you in love shall not deny me this. + +BASSANIO +This ring, good sir? Alas, it is a trifle. +I will not shame myself to give you this. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I will have nothing else but only this. +And now methinks I have a mind to it. + +BASSANIO +There's more depends on this than on the value. +The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, +And find it out by proclamation. +Only for this, I pray you pardon me. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +I see, sir, you are liberal in offers. +You taught me first to beg, and now methinks +You teach me how a beggar should be answered. + +BASSANIO +Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife, +And when she put it on, she made me vow +That I should neither sell nor give nor lose it. + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] +That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts. +And if your wife be not a madwoman, +And know how well I have deserved this ring, +She would not hold out enemy forever +For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you. +[Portia and Nerissa exit.] + +ANTONIO +My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring. +Let his deservings and my love withal +Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment. + +BASSANIO +Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him. +Give him the ring, and bring him if thou canst +Unto Antonio's house. Away, make haste. +[Gratiano exits.] +Come, you and I will thither presently, +And in the morning early will we both +Fly toward Belmont.--Come, Antonio. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Portia and Nerissa, still in disguise.] + + +PORTIA +Inquire the Jew's house out; give him this deed +And let him sign it. [She gives Nerissa a paper.] We'll +away tonight, +And be a day before our husbands home. +This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. + +[Enter Gratiano.] + + +GRATIANO +Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en. +My Lord Bassanio, upon more advice, +Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat +Your company at dinner. [He gives her a ring.] + +PORTIA, [as Balthazar] That cannot be. +His ring I do accept most thankfully, +And so I pray you tell him. Furthermore, +I pray you show my youth old Shylock's house. + +GRATIANO +That will I do. + +NERISSA, [as Clerk] Sir, I would speak with you. +[Aside to Portia.] I'll see if I can get my husband's +ring, +Which I did make him swear to keep forever. + +PORTIA, [aside to Nerissa] +Thou mayst, I warrant! We shall have old swearing +That they did give the rings away to men; +But we'll outface them, and outswear them, too.-- +Away, make haste! Thou know'st where I will tarry. +[She exits.] + +NERISSA, [as Clerk] +Come, good sir, will you show me to this house? +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Lorenzo and Jessica.] + + +LORENZO +The moon shines bright. In such a night as this, +When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees +And they did make no noise, in such a night +Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls +And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents +Where Cressid lay that night. + +JESSICA In such a night +Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew +And saw the lion's shadow ere himself +And ran dismayed away. + +LORENZO In such a night +Stood Dido with a willow in her hand +Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love +To come again to Carthage. + +JESSICA In such a night +Medea gathered the enchanted herbs +That did renew old Aeson. + +LORENZO In such a night +Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, +And with an unthrift love did run from Venice +As far as Belmont. + +JESSICA In such a night +Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, +Stealing her soul with many vows of faith, +And ne'er a true one. + +LORENZO In such a night +Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, +Slander her love, and he forgave it her. + +JESSICA +I would out-night you did nobody come, +But hark, I hear the footing of a man. + +[Enter Stephano, a Messenger.] + + +LORENZO +Who comes so fast in silence of the night? + +STEPHANO A friend. + +LORENZO +A friend? What friend? Your name, I pray you, +friend. + +STEPHANO +Stephano is my name, and I bring word +My mistress will before the break of day +Be here at Belmont. She doth stray about +By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays +For happy wedlock hours. + +LORENZO Who comes with her? + +STEPHANO +None but a holy hermit and her maid. +I pray you, is my master yet returned? + +LORENZO +He is not, nor we have not heard from him.-- +But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, +And ceremoniously let us prepare +Some welcome for the mistress of the house. + +[Enter Lancelet, the Clown.] + + +LANCELET Sola, sola! Wo ha, ho! Sola, sola! + +LORENZO Who calls? + +LANCELET Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo? Master +Lorenzo, sola, sola! + +LORENZO Leave holloaing, man! Here. + +LANCELET Sola! Where, where? + +LORENZO Here! + +LANCELET Tell him there's a post come from my master +with his horn full of good news. My master will +be here ere morning, sweet soul. [Lancelet exits.] + +LORENZO, [to Jessica] +Let's in, and there expect their coming. +And yet no matter; why should we go in?-- +My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, +Within the house, your mistress is at hand, +And bring your music forth into the air. +[Stephano exits.] +How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank. +Here will we sit and let the sounds of music +Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night +Become the touches of sweet harmony. +Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven +Is thick inlaid with patens of bright gold. +There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st +But in his motion like an angel sings, +Still choiring to the young-eyed cherubins. +Such harmony is in immortal souls, +But whilst this muddy vesture of decay +Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. + +[Enter Stephano and musicians.] + +Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn. +With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, +And draw her home with music. +[Music plays.] + +JESSICA +I am never merry when I hear sweet music. + +LORENZO +The reason is, your spirits are attentive. +For do but note a wild and wanton herd +Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, +Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, +Which is the hot condition of their blood, +If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, +Or any air of music touch their ears, +You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, +Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze +By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet +Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and +floods, +Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, +But music for the time doth change his nature. +The man that hath no music in himself, +Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, +Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; +The motions of his spirit are dull as night, +And his affections dark as Erebus. +Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music. + +[Enter Portia and Nerissa.] + + +PORTIA +That light we see is burning in my hall. +How far that little candle throws his beams! +So shines a good deed in a naughty world. + +NERISSA +When the moon shone we did not see the candle. + +PORTIA +So doth the greater glory dim the less. +A substitute shines brightly as a king +Until a king be by, and then his state +Empties itself as doth an inland brook +Into the main of waters. Music, hark! + +NERISSA +It is your music, madam, of the house. + +PORTIA +Nothing is good, I see, without respect. +Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. + +NERISSA +Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. + +PORTIA +The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark +When neither is attended, and I think +The nightingale, if she should sing by day +When every goose is cackling, would be thought +No better a musician than the wren. +How many things by season seasoned are +To their right praise and true perfection! +Peace--how the moon sleeps with Endymion +And would not be awaked! +[Music ceases.] + +LORENZO That is the voice, +Or I am much deceived, of Portia. + +PORTIA +He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, +By the bad voice. + +LORENZO Dear lady, welcome home. + +PORTIA +We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, +Which speed we hope the better for our words. +Are they returned? + +LORENZO Madam, they are not yet, +But there is come a messenger before +To signify their coming. + +PORTIA Go in, Nerissa. +Give order to my servants that they take +No note at all of our being absent hence-- +Nor you, Lorenzo--Jessica, nor you. +[A trumpet sounds.] + +LORENZO +Your husband is at hand. I hear his trumpet. +We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not. + +PORTIA +This night methinks is but the daylight sick; +It looks a little paler. 'Tis a day +Such as the day is when the sun is hid. + +[Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers.] + + +BASSANIO +We should hold day with the Antipodes +If you would walk in absence of the sun. + +PORTIA +Let me give light, but let me not be light, +For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, +And never be Bassanio so for me. +But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord. +[Gratiano and Nerissa talk aside.] + +BASSANIO +I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend. +This is the man, this is Antonio, +To whom I am so infinitely bound. + +PORTIA +You should in all sense be much bound to him, +For as I hear he was much bound for you. + +ANTONIO +No more than I am well acquitted of. + +PORTIA +Sir, you are very welcome to our house. +It must appear in other ways than words; +Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. + +GRATIANO, [to Nerissa] +By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong! +In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. +Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, +Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. + +PORTIA +A quarrel ho, already! What's the matter? + +GRATIANO +About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring +That she did give me, whose posy was +For all the world like cutler's poetry +Upon a knife, "Love me, and leave me not." + +NERISSA +What talk you of the posy or the value? +You swore to me when I did give it you +That you would wear it till your hour of death, +And that it should lie with you in your grave. +Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, +You should have been respective and have kept it. +Gave it a judge's clerk! No, God's my judge, +The clerk will ne'er wear hair on 's face that had it. + +GRATIANO +He will, an if he live to be a man. + +NERISSA +Ay, if a woman live to be a man. + +GRATIANO +Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, +A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, +No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk, +A prating boy that begged it as a fee. +I could not for my heart deny it him. + +PORTIA +You were to blame, I must be plain with you, +To part so slightly with your wife's first gift, +A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, +And so riveted with faith unto your flesh. +I gave my love a ring and made him swear +Never to part with it, and here he stands. +I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it +Nor pluck it from his finger for the wealth +That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, +You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief. +An 'twere to me I should be mad at it. + +BASSANIO, [aside] +Why, I were best to cut my left hand off +And swear I lost the ring defending it. + +GRATIANO +My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away +Unto the judge that begged it, and indeed +Deserved it, too. And then the boy, his clerk, +That took some pains in writing, he begged mine, +And neither man nor master would take aught +But the two rings. + +PORTIA What ring gave you, my lord? +Not that, I hope, which you received of me. + +BASSANIO +If I could add a lie unto a fault, +I would deny it, but you see my finger +Hath not the ring upon it. It is gone. + +PORTIA +Even so void is your false heart of truth. +By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed +Until I see the ring! + +NERISSA, [to Gratiano] Nor I in yours +Till I again see mine! + +BASSANIO Sweet Portia, +If you did know to whom I gave the ring, +If you did know for whom I gave the ring, +And would conceive for what I gave the ring, +And how unwillingly I left the ring, +When naught would be accepted but the ring, +You would abate the strength of your displeasure. + +PORTIA +If you had known the virtue of the ring, +Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, +Or your own honor to contain the ring, +You would not then have parted with the ring. +What man is there so much unreasonable, +If you had pleased to have defended it +With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty +To urge the thing held as a ceremony? +Nerissa teaches me what to believe: +I'll die for 't but some woman had the ring! + +BASSANIO +No, by my honor, madam, by my soul, +No woman had it, but a civil doctor, +Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me +And begged the ring, the which I did deny him +And suffered him to go displeased away, +Even he that had held up the very life +Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? +I was enforced to send it after him. +I was beset with shame and courtesy. +My honor would not let ingratitude +So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady, +For by these blessed candles of the night, +Had you been there, I think you would have begged +The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. + +PORTIA +Let not that doctor e'er come near my house! +Since he hath got the jewel that I loved, +And that which you did swear to keep for me, +I will become as liberal as you: +I'll not deny him anything I have, +No, not my body, nor my husband's bed. +Know him I shall, I am well sure of it. +Lie not a night from home. Watch me like Argus. +If you do not, if I be left alone, +Now by mine honor, which is yet mine own, +I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow. + +NERISSA +And I his clerk. Therefore be well advised +How you do leave me to mine own protection. + +GRATIANO +Well, do you so. Let not me take him, then, +For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. + +ANTONIO +I am th' unhappy subject of these quarrels. + +PORTIA +Sir, grieve not you. You are welcome +notwithstanding. + +BASSANIO +Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong, +And in the hearing of these many friends +I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, +Wherein I see myself-- + +PORTIA Mark you but that! +In both my eyes he doubly sees himself, +In each eye one. Swear by your double self, +And there's an oath of credit. + +BASSANIO Nay, but hear me. +Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear +I never more will break an oath with thee. + +ANTONIO +I once did lend my body for his wealth, +Which but for him that had your husband's ring +Had quite miscarried. I dare be bound again, +My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord +Will never more break faith advisedly. + +PORTIA +Then you shall be his surety. Give him this, +[Giving Antonio a ring.] +And bid him keep it better than the other. + +ANTONIO +Here, Lord Bassanio, swear to keep this ring. + +BASSANIO +By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! + +PORTIA +I had it of him. Pardon me, Bassanio, +For by this ring, the doctor lay with me. + +NERISSA +And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, +For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, +In lieu of this, last night did lie with me. +[She shows a ring.] + +GRATIANO +Why, this is like the mending of highways +In summer, where the ways are fair enough! +What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it? + +PORTIA +Speak not so grossly.--You are all amazed. +[She hands a paper to Bassanio.] +Here is a letter; read it at your leisure. +It comes from Padua from Bellario. +There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, +Nerissa there, her clerk. Lorenzo here +Shall witness I set forth as soon as you, +And even but now returned. I have not yet +Entered my house.--Antonio, you are welcome, +And I have better news in store for you +Than you expect. Unseal this letter soon. +[Handing him a paper.] +There you shall find three of your argosies +Are richly come to harbor suddenly. +You shall not know by what strange accident +I chanced on this letter. + +ANTONIO I am dumb. + +BASSANIO +Were you the doctor and I knew you not? + +GRATIANO +Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold? + +NERISSA +Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, +Unless he live until he be a man. + +BASSANIO, [to Portia] +Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow. +When I am absent, then lie with my wife. + +ANTONIO +Sweet lady, you have given me life and living; +For here I read for certain that my ships +Are safely come to road. + +PORTIA How now, Lorenzo? +My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. + +NERISSA +Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee. +[Handing him a paper.] +There do I give to you and Jessica, +From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, +After his death, of all he dies possessed of. + +LORENZO +Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way +Of starved people. + +PORTIA It is almost morning, +And yet I am sure you are not satisfied +Of these events at full. Let us go in, +And charge us there upon inter'gatories, +And we will answer all things faithfully. + +GRATIANO +Let it be so. The first inter'gatory +That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is +Whether till the next night she had rather stay +Or go to bed now, being two hours to day. +But were the day come, I should wish it dark +Till I were couching with the doctor's clerk. +Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing +So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-merry-wives-of-windsor_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-merry-wives-of-windsor_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0256a95 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-merry-wives-of-windsor_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4446 @@ +The Merry Wives of Windsor +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-merry-wives-of-windsor/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +MISTRESS FORD +FORD, her husband +Their servants: + JOHN + ROBERT +MISTRESS PAGE +PAGE, her husband +ANNE, their daughter +WILLIAM, their son +DOCTOR CAIUS, a French doctor, suitor to Anne Page +MISTRESS QUICKLY, the doctor's housekeeper +JOHN RUGBY, the doctor's manservant +SIR HUGH Evans, a Welsh parson +HOST of the Garter Inn +Windsor Children, disguised as fairies +Sir John FALSTAFF, an impoverished knight +Falstaff's servants: + ROBIN, his page + BARDOLPH + PISTOL + NYM +FENTON, a gentleman, suitor to Anne Page +Robert SHALLOW, a visiting justice of the peace +Abraham SLENDER, his nephew, a young gentleman suitor to Anne Page +SIMPLE, Slender's servant + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans.] + + +SHALLOW Sir Hugh, persuade me not. I will make a +Star-Chamber matter of it. If he were twenty Sir +John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, +Esquire. + +SLENDER In the county of Gloucester, Justice of Peace +and Coram. + +SHALLOW Ay, Cousin Slender, and Custalorum. + +SLENDER Ay, and Ratolorum too; and a gentleman born, +Master Parson, who writes himself "Armigero" +in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation-- +"Armigero!" + +SHALLOW Ay, that I do, and have done any time these +three hundred years. + +SLENDER All his successors gone before him hath +done 't, and all his ancestors that come after him +may. They may give the dozen white luces in their +coat. + +SHALLOW It is an old coat. + +SIR HUGH The dozen white louses do become an old +coat well. It agrees well, passant. It is a familiar +beast to man and signifies love. + +SHALLOW The luce is the fresh fish. The salt fish is an +old coat. + +SLENDER I may quarter, coz. + +SHALLOW You may, by marrying. + +SIR HUGH It is marring indeed, if he quarter it. + +SHALLOW Not a whit. + +SIR HUGH Yes, py 'r Lady. If he has a quarter of your +coat, there is but three skirts for yourself, in my +simple conjectures. But that is all one. If Sir John +Falstaff have committed disparagements unto you, +I am of the Church, and will be glad to do my +benevolence to make atonements and compromises +between you. + +SHALLOW The Council shall hear it; it is a riot. + +SIR HUGH It is not meet the Council hear a riot. There +is no fear of Got in a riot. The Council, look you, +shall desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear +a riot. Take your visaments in that. + +SHALLOW Ha! O' my life, if I were young again, the +sword should end it. + +SIR HUGH It is petter that friends is the sword, and end +it. And there is also another device in my prain, +which peradventure prings goot discretions with +it. There is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master +Thomas Page, which is pretty virginity. + +SLENDER Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair +and speaks small like a woman? + +SIR HUGH It is that fery person for all the 'orld, as just +as you will desire. And seven hundred pounds of +moneys, and gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon +his death's-bed (Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!) +give, when she is able to overtake seventeen +years old. It were a goot motion if we leave our +pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage between +Master Abraham and Mistress Anne Page. + +SLENDER Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred +pound? + +SIR HUGH Ay, and her father is make her a petter +penny. + +SLENDER I know the young gentlewoman. She has +good gifts. + +SIR HUGH Seven hundred pounds and possibilities is +goot gifts. + +SHALLOW Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is Falstaff +there? + +SIR HUGH Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar as I +do despise one that is false, or as I despise one that +is not true. The knight Sir John is there, and I beseech +you be ruled by your well-willers. I will peat +the door for Master Page. [He knocks.] What ho? +Got pless your house here. + +PAGE, [within] Who's there? + +SIR HUGH Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and +Justice Shallow, and here young Master Slender, +that peradventures shall tell you another tale, if +matters grow to your likings. + +[Enter Master Page.] + + +PAGE I am glad to see your Worships well. I thank you +for my venison, Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW Master Page, I am glad to see you. Much +good do it your good heart! I wished your venison +better; it was ill killed. How doth good Mistress +Page? And I thank you always with my heart, la, +with my heart. + +PAGE Sir, I thank you. + +SHALLOW Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do. + +PAGE I am glad to see you, good Master Slender. + +SLENDER How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I +heard say he was outrun on Cotsall. + +PAGE It could not be judged, sir. + +SLENDER You'll not confess, you'll not confess. + +SHALLOW That he will not. 'Tis your fault, 'tis your +fault. 'Tis a good dog. + +PAGE A cur, sir. + +SHALLOW Sir, he's a good dog and a fair dog. Can there +be more said? He is good and fair. Is Sir John Falstaff +here? + +PAGE Sir, he is within, and I would I could do a good +office between you. + +SIR HUGH It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak. + +SHALLOW He hath wronged me, Master Page. + +PAGE Sir, he doth in some sort confess it. + +SHALLOW If it be confessed, it is not redressed. Is not +that so, Master Page? He hath wronged me, indeed +he hath; at a word, he hath. Believe me. Robert +Shallow, Esquire, saith he is wronged. + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol.] + + +PAGE Here comes Sir John. + +FALSTAFF Now, Master Shallow, you'll complain of me +to the King? + +SHALLOW Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my +deer, and broke open my lodge. + +FALSTAFF But not kissed your keeper's daughter. + +SHALLOW Tut, a pin. This shall be answered. + +FALSTAFF I will answer it straight: I have done all this. +That is now answered. + +SHALLOW The Council shall know this. + +FALSTAFF 'Twere better for you if it were known in +counsel. You'll be laughed at. + +SIR HUGH Pauca verba, Sir John, good worts. + +FALSTAFF Good worts? Good cabbage!--Slender, I +broke your head. What matter have you against +me? + +SLENDER Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against +you and against your cony-catching rascals, Bardolph, +Nym, and Pistol. + +BARDOLPH You Banbury cheese! + +SLENDER Ay, it is no matter. + +PISTOL How now, Mephostophilus? + +SLENDER Ay, it is no matter. + +NYM Slice, I say! Pauca, pauca. Slice, that's my humor. + +SLENDER, [to Shallow] Where's Simple, my man? +Can you tell, cousin? + +SIR HUGH Peace, I pray you. Now let us understand; +there is three umpires in this matter, as I understand: +that is, Master Page (fidelicet Master Page); +and there is myself (fidelicet myself); and the three +party is, lastly and finally, mine Host of the Garter. + +PAGE We three to hear it and end it between them. + +SIR HUGH Fery goot. I will make a prief of it in my +notebook, and we will afterwards 'ork upon the +cause with as great discreetly as we can. + +FALSTAFF Pistol. + +PISTOL He hears with ears. + +SIR HUGH The tevil and his tam! What phrase is this, +"He hears with ear"? Why, it is affectations. + +FALSTAFF Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's purse? + +SLENDER Ay, by these gloves, did he--or I would I +might never come in mine own great chamber +again else--of seven groats in mill-sixpences, +and two Edward shovel-boards that cost me two +shilling and twopence apiece of Yed Miller, by +these gloves. + +FALSTAFF Is this true, Pistol? + +SIR HUGH No, it is false, if it is a pickpurse. + +PISTOL Ha, thou mountain foreigner!--Sir John and +master mine, I combat challenge of this latten +bilbo.--Word of denial in thy labras here! Word of +denial! Froth and scum, thou liest. + +SLENDER, [indicating Nym] By these gloves, then 'twas +he. + +NYM Be avised, sir, and pass good humors. I will say +"marry trap with you" if you run the nuthook's +humor on me. That is the very note of it. + +SLENDER By this hat, then, he in the red face had it. +For, though I cannot remember what I did when +you made me drunk, yet I am not altogether an +ass. + +FALSTAFF What say you, Scarlet and John? + +BARDOLPH Why, sir, for my part, I say the gentleman +had drunk himself out of his five sentences. + +SIR HUGH It is "his five senses." Fie, what the ignorance +is! + +BARDOLPH, [to Falstaff] And being fap, sir, was, as +they say, cashiered. And so conclusions passed the +careers. + +SLENDER Ay, you spake in Latin then too. But 'tis no +matter. I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again but in +honest, civil, godly company, for this trick. If I be +drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have the fear of +God, and not with drunken knaves. + +SIR HUGH So Got 'udge me, that is a virtuous mind. + +FALSTAFF You hear all these matters denied, gentlemen. +You hear it. + +[Enter Anne Page with wine.] + + +PAGE Nay, daughter, carry the wine in. We'll drink +within. [Anne Page exits.] + +SLENDER O heaven, this is Mistress Anne Page. + +[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.] + + +PAGE How now, Mistress Ford? + +FALSTAFF Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well +met. By your leave, good mistress. [He kisses her.] + +PAGE Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome.--Come, we +have a hot venison pasty to dinner. Come, gentlemen, +I hope we shall drink down all unkindness. +[All but Slender, Shallow, and Sir Hugh exit.] + +SLENDER I had rather than forty shillings I had my +book of Songs and Sonnets here! + +[Enter Simple.] + +How now, Simple? Where have you been? I must +wait on myself, must I? You have not the Book of +Riddles about you, have you? + +SIMPLE Book of Riddles? Why, did you not lend it to +Alice Shortcake upon Allhallowmas last, a fortnight +afore Michaelmas? + +SHALLOW, [to Slender] Come, coz; come, coz. We stay +for you. A word with you, coz. Marry, this, coz: +there is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, made +afar off by Sir Hugh here. Do you understand me? + +SLENDER Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable. If it be +so, I shall do that that is reason. + +SHALLOW Nay, but understand me. + +SLENDER So I do, sir. + +SIR HUGH Give ear to his motions, Master Slender. I +will description the matter to you, if you be capacity +of it. + +SLENDER Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says. I +pray you, pardon me. He's a Justice of Peace in his +country, simple though I stand here. + +SIR HUGH But that is not the question. The question is +concerning your marriage. + +SHALLOW Ay, there's the point, sir. + +SIR HUGH Marry, is it, the very point of it--to Mistress +Anne Page. + +SLENDER Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any +reasonable demands. + +SIR HUGH But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command +to know that of your mouth, or of your lips; +for divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of +the mouth. Therefore, precisely, can you carry your +good will to the maid? + +SHALLOW Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love her? + +SLENDER I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one +that would do reason. + +SIR HUGH Nay, Got's lords and His ladies! You must +speak positable, if you can carry her your desires +towards her. + +SHALLOW That you must. Will you, upon good dowry, +marry her? + +SLENDER I will do a greater thing than that, upon your +request, cousin, in any reason. + +SHALLOW Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz. +What I do is to pleasure you, coz. Can you love the +maid? + +SLENDER I will marry her, sir, at your request. But if +there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven +may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when +we are married and have more occasion to know +one another. I hope upon familiarity will grow +more content. But if you say "Marry her," I will +marry her. That I am freely dissolved, and +dissolutely. + +SIR HUGH It is a fery discretion answer, save the fall is +in the 'ord "dissolutely." The 'ort is, according to +our meaning, "resolutely." His meaning is good. + +SHALLOW Ay, I think my cousin meant well. + +SLENDER Ay, or else I would I might be hanged, la! + +[Enter Anne Page.] + + +SHALLOW Here comes fair Mistress Anne.--Would I +were young for your sake, Mistress Anne. + +ANNE The dinner is on the table. My father desires +your Worships' company. + +SHALLOW I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne. + +SIR HUGH 'Od's plessed will, I will not be absence at +the grace. [Sir Hugh and Shallow exit.] + +ANNE, [to Slender] Will 't please your Worship to come +in, sir? + +SLENDER No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily. I am very +well. + +ANNE The dinner attends you, sir. + +SLENDER I am not ahungry, I thank you, forsooth. [(To +Simple.)] Go, sirrah, for all you are my man, go +wait upon my cousin Shallow. [(Simple exits.)] A +Justice of Peace sometime may be beholding to his +friend for a man. I keep but three men and a boy +yet, till my mother be dead. But what though? Yet +I live like a poor gentleman born. + +ANNE I may not go in without your Worship. They will +not sit till you come. + +SLENDER I' faith, I'll eat nothing. I thank you as much +as though I did. + +ANNE I pray you, sir, walk in. + +SLENDER I had rather walk here, I thank you. I bruised +my shin th' other day with playing at sword and +dagger with a master of fence--three veneys for a +dish of stewed prunes--and, by my troth, I cannot +abide the smell of hot meat since. Why do your +dogs bark so? Be there bears i' th' town? + +ANNE I think there are, sir. I heard them talked of. + +SLENDER I love the sport well, but I shall as soon quarrel +at it as any man in England. You are afraid if +you see the bear loose, are you not? + +ANNE Ay, indeed, sir. + +SLENDER That's meat and drink to me, now. I have +seen Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken +him by the chain. But, I warrant you, the women +have so cried and shrieked at it that it passed. But +women, indeed, cannot abide 'em; they are very ill-favored +rough things. + +[Enter Page.] + + +PAGE Come, gentle Master Slender, come. We stay for +you. + +SLENDER I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir. + +PAGE By cock and pie, you shall not choose, sir! Come, +come. + +SLENDER Nay, pray you, lead the way. + +PAGE Come on, sir. + +SLENDER Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first. + +ANNE Not I, sir. Pray you, keep on. + +SLENDER Truly, I will not go first, truly, la! I will not do +you that wrong. + +ANNE I pray you, sir. + +SLENDER I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome. +You do yourself wrong, indeed, la! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple.] + + +SIR HUGH Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' +house which is the way. And there dwells one Mistress +Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, +or his dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry--his +washer and his wringer. + +SIMPLE Well, sir. + +SIR HUGH Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter +[(handing him a paper),] for it is a 'oman that altogether's +acquaintance with Mistress Anne Page; +and the letter is to desire and require her to solicit +your master's desires to Mistress Anne Page. I pray +you, be gone. I will make an end of my dinner; +there's pippins and cheese to come. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff, Host, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, +and Robin, Falstaff's Page.] + + +FALSTAFF Mine Host of the Garter! + +HOST What says my bullyrook? Speak scholarly and +wisely. + +FALSTAFF Truly, mine Host, I must turn away some of +my followers. + +HOST Discard, bully Hercules, cashier. Let them wag; +trot, trot. + +FALSTAFF I sit at ten pounds a week. + +HOST Thou 'rt an emperor--Caesar, Keiser, and +Pheazar. I will entertain Bardolph. He shall draw, +he shall tap. Said I well, bully Hector? + +FALSTAFF Do so, good mine Host. + +HOST I have spoke. Let him follow.--Let me see thee +froth and lime. I am at a word. Follow. +[Host exits.] + +FALSTAFF Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good +trade. An old cloak makes a new jerkin, a withered +servingman a fresh tapster. Go. Adieu. + +BARDOLPH It is a life that I have desired. I will thrive. + +PISTOL O base Hungarian wight, wilt thou the spigot +wield? [Bardolph exits.] + +NYM He was gotten in drink. Is not the humor +conceited? + +FALSTAFF I am glad I am so acquit of this tinderbox. +His thefts were too open. His filching was like an +unskillful singer; he kept not time. + +NYM The good humor is to steal at a minute's rest. + +PISTOL "Convey," the wise it call. "Steal"? Foh, a fico +for the phrase! + +FALSTAFF Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels. + +PISTOL Why, then, let kibes ensue. + +FALSTAFF There is no remedy. I must cony-catch, I +must shift. + +PISTOL Young ravens must have food. + +FALSTAFF Which of you know Ford of this town? + +PISTOL I ken the wight. He is of substance good. + +FALSTAFF My honest lads, I will tell you what I am +about. + +PISTOL Two yards and more. + +FALSTAFF No quips now, Pistol. Indeed, I am in the +waist two yards about, but I am now about no +waste; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make +love to Ford's wife. I spy entertainment in her. She +discourses; she carves; she gives the leer of invitation. +I can construe the action of her familiar style; +and the hardest voice of her behavior, to be Englished +rightly, is "I am Sir John Falstaff's." + +PISTOL, [aside to Nym] He hath studied her will and +translated her will--out of honesty into English. + +NYM, [aside to Pistol] The anchor is deep. Will that +humor pass? + +FALSTAFF Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of +her husband's purse. He hath a legion of angels. + +PISTOL, [aside to Nym] As many devils entertain, and +"To her, boy," say I. + +NYM, [aside to Pistol] The humor rises; it is good. +Humor me the angels. + +FALSTAFF, [showing two papers] I have writ me here a +letter to her; and here another to Page's wife, who +even now gave me good eyes too, examined my +parts with most judicious oeillades. Sometimes +the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes +my portly belly. + +PISTOL, [aside to Nym] Then did the sun on dunghill +shine. + +NYM, [aside to Pistol] I thank thee for that humor. + +FALSTAFF O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with +such a greedy intention that the appetite of her +eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass. +Here's another letter to her. She bears the purse +too; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. +I will be cheaters to them both, and they shall be +exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West +Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go bear thou +this letter to Mistress Page--and thou this to Mistress +Ford. We will thrive, lads, we will thrive. + +PISTOL +Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, +And by my side wear steel? Then Lucifer take all! + +NYM, [to Falstaff] I will run no base humor. Here, take +the humor-letter. I will keep the havior of +reputation. + +FALSTAFF, [giving papers to Robin] +Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly; +Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.-- +Rogues, hence, avaunt, vanish like hailstones, go, +Trudge, plod away i' th' hoof, seek shelter, pack! +Falstaff will learn the humor of the age: +French thrift, you rogues--myself and skirted page. +[Falstaff and Robin exit.] + +PISTOL +Let vultures gripe thy guts! For gourd and fullam +holds, +And high and low beguiles the rich and poor. +Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack, +Base Phrygian Turk! + +NYM I have operations which be humors of revenge. + +PISTOL Wilt thou revenge? + +NYM By welkin and her star! + +PISTOL With wit or steel? + +NYM With both the humors, I. I will discuss the +humor of this love to Ford. + +PISTOL +And I to Page shall eke unfold + How Falstaff, varlet vile, +His dove will prove, his gold will hold, + And his soft couch defile. + +NYM My humor shall not cool. I will incense Ford to +deal with poison. I will possess him with yellowness, +for the revolt of mine is dangerous. That is +my true humor. + +PISTOL Thou art the Mars of malcontents. I second +thee. Troop on. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Mistress Quickly and Simple.] + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY What, John Rugby! [(Enter John +Rugby.)] I pray thee, go to the casement and see if +you can see my master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. +If he do, i' faith, and find anybody in the +house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience +and the King's English. + +RUGBY I'll go watch. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Go, and we'll have a posset for 't +soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a seacoal +fire. [(Rugby exits.)] An honest, willing, kind fellow +as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I +warrant you, no telltale nor no breed-bate. His +worst fault is that he is given to prayer. He is something +peevish that way, but nobody but has his +fault. But let that pass. Peter Simple you say your +name is? + +SIMPLE Ay, for fault of a better. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY And Master Slender's your master? + +SIMPLE Ay, forsooth. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Does he not wear a great round +beard like a glover's paring knife? + +SIMPLE No, forsooth. He hath but a little wee face, +with a little yellow beard, a Cain-colored beard. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY A softly-sprited man, is he not? + +SIMPLE Ay, forsooth. But he is as tall a man of his +hands as any is between this and his head. He hath +fought with a warrener. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY How say you? O, I should remember +him. Does he not hold up his head, as it were, +and strut in his gait? + +SIMPLE Yes, indeed, does he. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Well, heaven send Anne Page no +worse fortune! Tell Master Parson Evans I will do +what I can for your master. Anne is a good girl, and +I wish-- + +[Enter Rugby.] + + +RUGBY Out, alas! Here comes my master. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY We shall all be shent.--Run in here, +good young man. Go into this closet. He will not +stay long. [(Simple exits.)] What, John Rugby! +John! What, John, I say! Go, John, go enquire for +my master. I doubt he be not well, that he comes +not home. [Rugby exits.] +[(She sings.)] And down, down, adown 'a, etc. + +[Enter Doctor Caius.] + + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys. +Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier +vert, a box, a green-a box. Do intend vat I speak? +A green-a box. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Ay, forsooth. I'll fetch it you. +[(Aside.)] I am glad he went not in himself. If he +had found the young man, he would have been +horn-mad. [She exits.] + +DOCTOR CAIUS Fe, fe, fe, fe! Ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je +m'en vais a la cour--la grande affaire. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly with a small box.] + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Is it this, sir? + +DOCTOR CAIUS Oui, mets-le a mon pocket. Depeche, +quickly. Vere is dat knave Rugby? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY What, John Rugby, John! + +[Enter Rugby.] + + +RUGBY Here, sir. + +DOCTOR CAIUS You are John Rugby, and you are Jack +Rugby. Come, take-a your rapier, and come after +my heel to the court. + +RUGBY 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By my trot, I tarry too long. Od's +me! Qu'ai-j'oublie? Dere is some simples in my +closet dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave +behind. [He exits.] + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Ay me! He'll find the young man +there, and be mad! + +[Enter Doctor Caius.] + + +DOCTOR CAIUS O diable, diable! Vat is in my closet? Villainy! +Larron! [(Pulling out Simple.)] Rugby, my +rapier! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Good master, be content. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Wherefore shall I be content-a? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY The young man is an honest man. + +DOCTOR CAIUS What shall de honest man do in my +closet? Dere is no honest man dat shall come in +my closet. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic. +Hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me +from Parson Hugh. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vell? + +SIMPLE Ay, forsooth. To desire her to-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Peace, I pray you. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Peace-a your tongue.--Speak-a your +tale. + +SIMPLE To desire this honest gentlewoman, your +maid, to speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page +for my master in the way of marriage. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY This is all, indeed, la! But I'll ne'er +put my finger in the fire, and need not. + +DOCTOR CAIUS, [to Simple] Sir Hugh send-a you?-- +Rugby, baille me some paper.--Tarry you a little-a +while. + +[Rugby brings paper, and Doctor Caius writes.] + + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [aside to Simple] I am glad he is so +quiet. If he had been throughly moved, you should +have heard him so loud and so melancholy. But +notwithstanding, man, I'll do you your master +what good I can. And the very yea and the no is, +the French doctor, my master--I may call him my +master, look you, for I keep his house, and I wash, +wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, +make the beds, and do all myself-- + +SIMPLE, [aside to Quickly] 'Tis a great charge to come +under one body's hand. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [aside to Simple] Are you advised o' +that? You shall find it a great charge. And to be up +early and down late. But notwithstanding--to tell +you in your ear; I would have no words of it--my +master himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page. +But notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind. +That's neither here nor there. + +DOCTOR CAIUS, [handing paper to Simple] You, jack'nape, +give-a this letter to Sir Hugh. By gar, it is a +shallenge. I will cut his troat in de park, and I will +teach a scurvy jackanape priest to meddle or +make. You may be gone. It is not good you tarry +here.--By gar, I will cut all his two stones. By gar, +he shall not have a stone to throw at his dog. +[Simple exits.] + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Alas, he speaks but for his friend. + +DOCTOR CAIUS It is no matter-a ver dat. Do not you tell-a +me dat I shall have Anne Page for myself? By gar, I +vill kill de jack priest; and I have appointed mine +Host of de Jarteer to measure our weapon. By gar, +I will myself have Anne Page. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall +be well. We must give folks leave to prate. What +the goodyear! + +DOCTOR CAIUS Rugby, come to the court with me. [(To +Mistress Quickly.)] By gar, if I have not Anne Page, +I shall turn your head out of my door.--Follow my +heels, Rugby. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY You shall have Anne-- +[Caius and Rugby exit.] +fool's head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind +for that. Never a woman in Windsor knows more +of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I +do with her, I thank heaven. + +FENTON, [within] Who's within there, ho? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Who's there, I trow? Come near the +house, I pray you. + +[Enter Fenton.] + + +FENTON How now, good woman? How dost thou? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY The better that it pleases your good +Worship to ask. + +FENTON What news? How does pretty Mistress Anne? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and +honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I +can tell you that by the way, I praise heaven for it. + +FENTON Shall I do any good, think'st thou? Shall I not +lose my suit? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Troth, sir, all is in His hands above. +But notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I'll be sworn +on a book she loves you. Have not your Worship a +wart above your eye? + +FENTON Yes, marry, have I. What of that? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Well, thereby hangs a tale. Good +faith, it is such another Nan! But, I detest, an honest +maid as ever broke bread. We had an hour's +talk of that wart. I shall never laugh but in that +maid's company. But, indeed, she is given too +much to allicholy and musing. But, for you,--well, +go to. + +FENTON Well, I shall see her today. Hold, there's +money for thee. [(He hands her money.)] Let me +have thy voice in my behalf. If thou see'st her before +me, commend me. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Will I? I' faith, that we will. And I +will tell your Worship more of the wart the next +time we have confidence, and of other wooers. + +FENTON Well, farewell. I am in great haste now. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Farewell to your Worship. +[Fenton exits.] +Truly an honest gentleman--but Anne loves him +not, for I know Anne's mind as well as another +does. Out upon 't! What have I forgot? +[She exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Mistress Page reading a letter.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE What, have I 'scaped love letters in +the holiday time of my beauty, and am I now a +subject for them? Let me see. +[She reads.] +Ask me no reason why I love you, for though Love +use Reason for his precisian, he admits him not for +his counselor. You are not young; no more am I. Go +to, then, there's sympathy. You are merry; so am I. +Ha, ha, then, there's more sympathy. You love sack, +and so do I. Would you desire better sympathy? Let +it suffice thee, Mistress Page--at the least, if the love +of soldier can suffice--that I love thee. I will not say +pity me--'tis not a soldier-like phrase--but I say love +me. By me, + Thine own true knight, + By day or night, + Or any kind of light, + With all his might + For thee to fight, +John Falstaff. +What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked, wicked +world! One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with +age, to show himself a young gallant! What an +unweighed behavior hath this Flemish drunkard +picked--with the devil's name!--out of my conversation, +that he dares in this manner assay me? +Why, he hath not been thrice in my company! +What should I say to him? I was then frugal of my +mirth. Heaven forgive me! Why, I'll exhibit a bill +in the Parliament for the putting down of men. +How shall I be revenged on him? For revenged I +will be, as sure as his guts are made of puddings. + +[Enter Mistress Ford.] + + +MISTRESS FORD Mistress Page! Trust me, I was going to +your house. + +MISTRESS PAGE And, trust me, I was coming to you. +You look very ill. + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, I'll ne'er believe that. I have to +show to the contrary. + +MISTRESS PAGE Faith, but you do, in my mind. + +MISTRESS FORD Well, I do, then. Yet I say I could show +you to the contrary. O Mistress Page, give me some +counsel. + +MISTRESS PAGE What's the matter, woman? + +MISTRESS FORD O woman, if it were not for one trifling +respect, I could come to such honor! + +MISTRESS PAGE Hang the trifle, woman; take the honor. +What is it? Dispense with trifles. What is it? + +MISTRESS FORD If I would but go to hell for an eternal +moment or so, I could be knighted. + +MISTRESS PAGE What, thou liest! Sir Alice Ford? These +knights will hack, and so thou shouldst not alter +the article of thy gentry. + +MISTRESS FORD We burn daylight. Here, read, read. Perceive +how I might be knighted. [(She gives a paper +to Mistress Page, who reads it.)] I shall think the +worse of fat men as long as I have an eye to make +difference of men's liking. And yet he would not +swear; praised women's modesty; and gave such +orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness +that I would have sworn his disposition +would have gone to the truth of his words. But +they do no more adhere and keep place together +than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of +"Greensleeves." What tempest, I trow, threw this +whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly, ashore +at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I +think the best way were to entertain him with hope +till the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his +own grease. Did you ever hear the like? + +MISTRESS PAGE Letter for letter, but that the name of +Page and Ford differs! To thy great comfort in this +mystery of ill opinions, here's the twin brother of +thy letter. [(She gives a paper to Mistress Ford, who +reads it.)] But let thine inherit first, for I protest +mine never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand of +these letters writ with blank space for different +names--sure, more--and these are of the second +edition. He will print them, out of doubt; for he +cares not what he puts into the press, when he +would put us two. I had rather be a giantess and lie +under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty +lascivious turtles ere one chaste man. + +MISTRESS FORD Why, this is the very same--the very +hand, the very words. What doth he think of us? + +MISTRESS PAGE Nay, I know not. It makes me almost +ready to wrangle with mine own honesty. I'll entertain +myself like one that I am not acquainted +withal; for, sure, unless he know some strain in +me that I know not myself, he would never have +boarded me in this fury. + +MISTRESS FORD "Boarding" call you it? I'll be sure to +keep him above deck. + +MISTRESS PAGE So will I. If he come under my hatches, +I'll never to sea again. Let's be revenged on him. +Let's appoint him a meeting, give him a show of +comfort in his suit, and lead him on with a fine-baited +delay till he hath pawned his horses to mine +Host of the Garter. + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, I will consent to act any villainy +against him that may not sully the chariness of our +honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter! It +would give eternal food to his jealousy. + +MISTRESS PAGE Why, look where he comes, and my +good man too. He's as far from jealousy as I am +from giving him cause, and that, I hope, is an +unmeasurable distance. + +MISTRESS FORD You are the happier woman. + +MISTRESS PAGE Let's consult together against this greasy +knight. Come hither. [They talk aside.] + +[Enter Ford with Pistol, and Page with Nym.] + + +FORD Well, I hope it be not so. + +PISTOL +Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs. +Sir John affects thy wife. + +FORD Why, sir, my wife is not young. + +PISTOL +He woos both high and low, both rich and poor, +Both young and old, one with another, Ford. +He loves the gallimaufry. Ford, perpend. + +FORD Love my wife? + +PISTOL +With liver burning hot. Prevent, +Or go thou like Sir Acteon, he, +With Ringwood at thy heels. +O, odious is the name! + +FORD What name, sir? + +PISTOL The horn, I say. Farewell. +Take heed, have open eye, for thieves do foot by +night. +Take heed, ere summer comes or cuckoo birds do +sing.-- +Away, Sir Corporal Nym.--Believe it, Page. He +speaks sense. [He exits.] + +FORD, [aside] I will be patient. I will find out this. + +NYM, [to Page] And this is true. I like not the humor of +lying. He hath wronged me in some humors. I +should have borne the humored letter to her; but I +have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. +He loves your wife; there's the short and the long. +My name is Corporal Nym. I speak and I avouch. +'Tis true. My name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your +wife. Adieu. I love not the humor of bread and +cheese. Adieu. [He exits.] + +PAGE, [aside] "The humor of it," quoth he? Here's a fellow +frights English out of his wits. + +FORD, [aside] I will seek out Falstaff. + +PAGE, [aside] I never heard such a drawling, affecting +rogue. + +FORD, [aside] If I do find it--well. + +PAGE, [aside] I will not believe such a Cataian, though +the priest o' th' town commended him for a true +man. + +FORD, [aside] 'Twas a good sensible fellow--well. + +[Mistress Page and Mistress Ford come forward.] + + + +PAGE, [to Mistress Page] How now, Meg? + +MISTRESS PAGE Whither go you, George? Hark you. +[They talk aside.] + +MISTRESS FORD, [to Ford] How now, sweet Frank? Why +art thou melancholy? + +FORD I melancholy? I am not melancholy. Get you +home. Go. + +MISTRESS FORD Faith, thou hast some crochets in thy +head now.--Will you go, Mistress Page? + +MISTRESS PAGE Have with you.--You'll come to dinner, +George? [(Aside to Mistress Ford.)] Look who +comes yonder. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly.] + +She shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. + +MISTRESS FORD Trust me, I thought on her. She'll fit it. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [to Mistress Quickly] You are come to +see my daughter Anne? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Ay, forsooth. And, I pray, how does +good Mistress Anne? + +MISTRESS PAGE Go in with us and see. We have an +hour's talk with you. +[Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and +Mistress Quickly exit.] + +PAGE How now, Master Ford? + +FORD You heard what this knave told me, did you not? + +PAGE Yes, and you heard what the other told me? + +FORD Do you think there is truth in them? + +PAGE Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight +would offer it. But these that accuse him in his intent +towards our wives are a yoke of his discarded +men, very rogues, now they be out of service. + +FORD Were they his men? + +PAGE Marry, were they. + +FORD I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at +the Garter? + +PAGE Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage +toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him; +and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let +it lie on my head. + +FORD I do not misdoubt my wife, but I would be loath +to turn them together. A man may be too confident. +I would have nothing lie on my head. I cannot +be thus satisfied. + +[Enter Host.] + + +PAGE Look where my ranting Host of the Garter +comes. There is either liquor in his pate or money +in his purse when he looks so merrily.--How now, +mine Host? + +HOST How now, bullyrook? Thou 'rt a gentleman.-- +Cavaleiro Justice, I say! + +[Enter Shallow.] + + +SHALLOW I follow, mine Host, I follow.--Good even +and twenty, good Master Page. Master Page, will +you go with us? We have sport in hand. + +HOST Tell him, Cavaleiro Justice; tell him, bullyrook. + +SHALLOW Sir, there is a fray to be fought between +Sir Hugh the Welsh priest and Caius the French +doctor. + +FORD Good mine Host o' th' Garter, a word with you. + +HOST What say'st thou, my bullyrook? +[The Host and Ford talk aside.] + +SHALLOW, [to Page] Will you go with us to behold it? +My merry Host hath had the measuring of their +weapons and, I think, hath appointed them contrary +places; for, believe me, I hear the parson is no +jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be. +[Shallow and Page talk aside.] + +HOST, [to Ford] Hast thou no suit against my knight, +my guest cavalier? + +FORD None, I protest. But I'll give you a pottle of +burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him +my name is Brook--only for a jest. + +HOST My hand, bully. Thou shalt have egress and +regress--said I well?--and thy name shall be +Brook. It is a merry knight. [(To Shallow and +Page.)] Will you go, ameers? + +SHALLOW Have with you, mine Host. + +PAGE I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill +in his rapier. + +SHALLOW Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these +times you stand on distance--your passes, stoccados, +and I know not what. 'Tis the heart, Master +Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with +my long sword I would have made you four tall +fellows skip like rats. + +HOST Here, boys, here, here! Shall we wag? + +PAGE Have with you. I had rather hear them scold +than fight. [Page, Host, and Shallow exit.] + +FORD Though Page be a secure fool and stands so +firmly on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my +opinion so easily. She was in his company at Page's +house, and what they made there I know not. Well, +I will look further into 't, and I have a disguise to +sound Falstaff. If I find her honest, I lose not my +labor. If she be otherwise, 'tis labor well bestowed. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff and Pistol.] + + +FALSTAFF I will not lend thee a penny. + +PISTOL Why then, the world's mine oyster, which I +with sword will open. + +FALSTAFF Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you +should lay my countenance to pawn. I have grated +upon my good friends for three reprieves for you +and your coach-fellow Nym, or else you had +looked through the grate like a gemini of baboons. +I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my +friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows. +And when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her +fan, I took 't upon mine honor thou hadst it not. + +PISTOL Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen +pence? + +FALSTAFF Reason, you rogue, reason. Think'st thou I'll +endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more +about me. I am no gibbet for you. Go--a short +knife and a throng--to your manor of Pickt-hatch, +go. You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue? You +stand upon your honor? Why, thou unconfinable +baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the +terms of my honor precise. Ay, ay, I myself sometimes, +leaving the fear of God on the left hand +and hiding mine honor in my necessity, am fain to +shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, +will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain +looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bold beating +oaths under the shelter of your honor! You will +not do it? You? + +PISTOL I do relent. What would thou more of man? + +[Enter Robin.] + + +ROBIN Sir, here's a woman would speak with you. + +FALSTAFF Let her approach. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly.] + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Give your Worship good morrow. + +FALSTAFF Good morrow, goodwife. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Not so, an 't please your Worship. + +FALSTAFF Good maid, then. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY I'll be sworn--as my mother was, +the first hour I was born. + +FALSTAFF I do believe the swearer. What with me? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Shall I vouchsafe your Worship a +word or two? + +FALSTAFF Two thousand, fair woman, and I'll vouchsafe +thee the hearing. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY There is one Mistress Ford, sir--I +pray, come a little nearer this ways. I myself dwell +with Master Doctor Caius. + +FALSTAFF Well, on. "Mistress Ford," you say-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Your Worship says very true. I pray +your Worship, come a little nearer this ways. + +FALSTAFF I warrant thee, nobody hears. Mine own +people, mine own people. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Are they so? God bless them and +make them His servants! + +FALSTAFF Well, "Mistress Ford"--what of her? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Why, sir, she's a good creature. +Lord, Lord, your Worship's a wanton! Well, heaven +forgive you and all of us, I pray! + +FALSTAFF "Mistress Ford"--come, "Mistress Ford"-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Marry, this is the short and the long +of it: you have brought her into such a canaries as +'tis wonderful. The best courtier of them all, when +the court lay at Windsor, could never have brought +her to such a canary. Yet there has been knights, +and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches, I +warrant you, coach after coach, letter after letter, +gift after gift, smelling so sweetly--all musk--and +so rushling, I warrant you, in silk and gold, and in +such alligant terms, and in such wine and sugar of +the best and the fairest, that would have won any +woman's heart; and, I warrant you, they could +never get an eye-wink of her. I had myself twenty +angels given me this morning, but I defy all angels +in any such sort, as they say, but in the way of +honesty. And, I warrant you, they could never get +her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of +them all. And yet there has been earls--nay, which +is more, pensioners--but, I warrant you, all is one +with her. + +FALSTAFF But what says she to me? Be brief, my good +she-Mercury. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Marry, she hath received your letter, +for the which she thanks you a thousand times, +and she gives you to notify that her husband will +be absence from his house between ten and eleven. + +FALSTAFF Ten and eleven? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Ay, forsooth; and then you may come +and see the picture, she says, that you wot of. Master +Ford, her husband, will be from home. Alas, the +sweet woman leads an ill life with him. He's a very +jealousy man. She leads a very frampold life with +him, good heart. + +FALSTAFF Ten and eleven. Woman, commend me to +her. I will not fail her. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Why, you say well. But I have another +messenger to your Worship. Mistress Page +hath her hearty commendations to you too; and, +let me tell you in your ear, she's as fartuous a civil +modest wife, and one, I tell you, that will not miss +you morning nor evening prayer, as any is in Windsor, +whoe'er be the other. And she bade me tell +your Worship that her husband is seldom from +home, but she hopes there will come a time. I +never knew a woman so dote upon a man. Surely, I +think you have charms, la! Yes, in truth. + +FALSTAFF Not I, I assure thee. Setting the attraction of +my good parts aside, I have no other charms. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Blessing on your heart for 't! + +FALSTAFF But I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's wife +and Page's wife acquainted each other how they +love me? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY That were a jest indeed! They have +not so little grace, I hope. That were a trick indeed! +But Mistress Page would desire you to send her +your little page, of all loves. Her husband has a +marvelous infection to the little page; and, truly, +Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in +Windsor leads a better life than she does. Do what +she will, say what she will, take all, pay all, go to +bed when she list, rise when she list--all is as she +will. And, truly, she deserves it, for if there be a +kind woman in Windsor, she is one. You must send +her your page, no remedy. + +FALSTAFF Why, I will. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Nay, but do so then, and, look you, +he may come and go between you both. And in any +case have a nayword, that you may know one another's +mind, and the boy never need to understand +anything; for 'tis not good that children +should know any wickedness. Old folks, you know, +have discretion, as they say, and know the world. + +FALSTAFF Fare thee well. Commend me to them both. +There's my purse. [(He gives her money.)] I am yet +thy debtor.--Boy, go along with this woman. [(Mistress +Quickly and Robin exit.)] This news distracts +me. + +PISTOL, [aside] +This punk is one of Cupid's carriers. +Clap on more sails, pursue; up with your fights; +Give fire! She is my prize, or ocean whelm them all! +[He exits.] + +FALSTAFF Sayst thou so, old Jack? Go thy ways. I'll +make more of thy old body than I have done. Will +they yet look after thee? Wilt thou, after the expense +of so much money, be now a gainer? Good +body, I thank thee. Let them say 'tis grossly done; +so it be fairly done, no matter. + +[Enter Bardolph with wine.] + + +BARDOLPH Sir John, there's one Master Brook below +would fain speak with you and be acquainted with +you, and hath sent your Worship a morning's +draught of sack. [(He hands Falstaff the wine.)] + +FALSTAFF Brook is his name? + +BARDOLPH Ay, sir. + +FALSTAFF Call him in. Such Brooks are welcome to +me that o'erflows such liquor. [(Bardolph exits.)] +Ah ha, Mistress Ford and Mistress Page, have I encompassed +you? Go to. Via! + +[Enter Bardolph with Ford disguised as Brook.] + + +FORD, [as Brook] God bless you, sir. + +FALSTAFF And you, sir. Would you speak with me? + +FORD, [as Brook] I make bold to press with so little +preparation upon you. + +FALSTAFF You're welcome. What's your will?--Give us +leave, drawer. [Bardolph exits.] + +FORD, [as Brook] Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent +much. My name is Brook. + +FALSTAFF Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance +of you. + +FORD, [as Brook] Good Sir John, I sue for yours--not +to charge you, for I must let you understand I +think myself in better plight for a lender than you +are, the which hath something emboldened me to +this unseasoned intrusion; for they say, if money +go before, all ways do lie open. + +FALSTAFF Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on. + +FORD, [as Brook] Troth, and I have a bag of money +here troubles me. [He sets it down.] If you will help +to bear it, Sir John, take all, or half, for easing me +of the carriage. + +FALSTAFF Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your +porter. + +FORD, [as Brook] I will tell you, sir, if you will give me +the hearing. + +FALSTAFF Speak, good Master Brook. I shall be glad +to be your servant. + +FORD, [as Brook] Sir, I hear you are a scholar--I will +be brief with you--and you have been a man long +known to me, though I had never so good means +as desire to make myself acquainted with you. I +shall discover a thing to you wherein I must very +much lay open mine own imperfection. But, good +Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as +you hear them unfolded, turn another into the register +of your own, that I may pass with a reproof +the easier, sith you yourself know how easy it is to +be such an offender. + +FALSTAFF Very well, sir. Proceed. + +FORD, [as Brook] There is a gentlewoman in this +town--her husband's name is Ford. + +FALSTAFF Well, sir. + +FORD, [as Brook] I have long loved her and, I protest +to you, bestowed much on her, followed her with +a doting observance, engrossed opportunities to +meet her, fee'd every slight occasion that could but +niggardly give me sight of her, not only bought +many presents to give her, but have given largely to +many to know what she would have given. Briefly, +I have pursued her as love hath pursued me, which +hath been on the wing of all occasions. But whatsoever +I have merited, either in my mind or in my +means, meed I am sure I have received none, unless +experience be a jewel. That I have purchased +at an infinite rate, and that hath taught me to say +this: +"Love like a shadow flies when substance love +pursues, +Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues." + +FALSTAFF Have you received no promise of satisfaction +at her hands? + +FORD, [as Brook] Never. + +FALSTAFF Have you importuned her to such a +purpose? + +FORD, [as Brook] Never. + +FALSTAFF Of what quality was your love, then? + +FORD, [as Brook] Like a fair house built on another +man's ground, so that I have lost my edifice by +mistaking the place where I erected it. + +FALSTAFF To what purpose have you unfolded this to +me? + +FORD, [as Brook] When I have told you that, I have +told you all. Some say that though she appear honest +to me, yet in other places she enlargeth her +mirth so far that there is shrewd construction +made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart of my +purpose: you are a gentleman of excellent breeding, +admirable discourse, of great admittance, +authentic in your place and person, generally +allowed for your many warlike, courtlike, and +learned preparations. + +FALSTAFF O, sir! + +FORD, [as Brook] Believe it, for you know it. There is +money. [(He points to the bag.)] Spend it, spend +it, spend more; spend all I have. Only give me so +much of your time in exchange of it as to lay an +amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife. +Use your art of wooing; win her to consent to you. +If any man may, you may as soon as any. + +FALSTAFF Would it apply well to the vehemency of +your affection that I should win what you would +enjoy? Methinks you prescribe to yourself very +preposterously. + +FORD, [as Brook] O, understand my drift. She dwells +so securely on the excellency of her honor that the +folly of my soul dares not present itself; she is too +bright to be looked against. Now, could I come to +her with any detection in my hand, my desires had +instance and argument to commend themselves. I +could drive her then from the ward of her purity, +her reputation, her marriage vow, and a thousand +other her defenses, which now are too too strongly +embattled against me. What say you to 't, Sir +John? + +FALSTAFF, [taking the bag] Master Brook, I will first +make bold with your money; next, give me your +hand; and, last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if +you will, enjoy Ford's wife. + +FORD, [as Brook] O, good sir! + +FALSTAFF I say you shall. + +FORD, [as Brook] Want no money, Sir John; you shall +want none. + +FALSTAFF Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook; you +shall want none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, +by her own appointment. Even as you came in to +me, her assistant or go-between parted from me. I +say I shall be with her between ten and eleven, for +at that time the jealous, rascally knave her husband +will be forth. Come you to me at night. You +shall know how I speed. + +FORD, [as Brook] I am blessed in your acquaintance. +Do you know Ford, sir? + +FALSTAFF Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave! I know +him not. Yet I wrong him to call him poor. They +say the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of +money, for the which his wife seems to me well-favored. +I will use her as the key of the cuckoldly +rogue's coffer, and there's my harvest home. + +FORD, [as Brook] I would you knew Ford, sir, that you +might avoid him if you saw him. + +FALSTAFF Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I +will stare him out of his wits. I will awe him with +my cudgel; it shall hang like a meteor o'er the +cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know I +will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt +lie with his wife. Come to me soon at night. Ford's +a knave, and I will aggravate his style. Thou, Master +Brook, shalt know him for knave and cuckold. +Come to me soon at night. [Falstaff exits.] + +FORD What a damned epicurean rascal is this! My +heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says +this is improvident jealousy? My wife hath sent +to him, the hour is fixed, the match is made. +Would any man have thought this? See the hell of +having a false woman: my bed shall be abused, my +coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at. And +I shall not only receive this villainous wrong but +stand under the adoption of abominable terms, +and by him that does me this wrong. Terms, +names! "Amaimon" sounds well, "Lucifer" well, +"Barbason" well; yet they are devils' additions, the +names of fiends. But "Cuckold," "Wittoll," "Cuckold"! +The devil himself hath not such a name. Page +is an ass, a secure ass. He will trust his wife, he will +not be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming with +my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my +cheese, an Irishman with my aquavitae bottle, or +a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife +with herself. Then she plots, then she ruminates, +then she devises; and what they think in their +hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts +but they will effect. God be praised for my jealousy! +Eleven o'clock the hour. I will prevent this, +detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh +at Page. I will about it. Better three hours too soon +than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie! Cuckold, cuckold, +cuckold! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Doctor Caius and Rugby.] + + +DOCTOR CAIUS Jack Rugby. + +RUGBY Sir? + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vat is the clock, Jack? + +RUGBY 'Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised +to meet. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, he has save his soul dat he is no +come. He has pray his Pible well dat he is no come. +By gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already if he be +come. + +RUGBY He is wise, sir. He knew your Worship would +kill him if he came. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill +kill him. Take your rapier, Jack. I vill tell you how I +vill kill him. + +RUGBY Alas, sir, I cannot fence. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Villainy, take your rapier. + +RUGBY Forbear. Here's company. + +[Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, and Host.] + + +HOST God bless thee, bully doctor! + +SHALLOW God save you, Master Doctor Caius! + +PAGE Now, good Master Doctor! + +SLENDER Give you good morrow, sir. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come +for? + +HOST To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse; +to see thee here, to see thee there; to see +thy pass, thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy +distance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? +Is he dead, my Francisco? Ha, bully? What says +my Aesculapius, my Galien, my heart of elder, ha? +Is he dead, bully stale? Is he dead? + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, he is de coward jack-priest of de +vorld. He is not show his face. + +HOST Thou art a Castalion King Urinal Hector of +Greece, my boy! + +DOCTOR CAIUS I pray you, bear witness that me have +stay six or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is +no come. + +SHALLOW He is the wiser man, Master Doctor. He is a +curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies. If you +should fight, you go against the hair of your professions.-- +Is it not true, Master Page? + +PAGE Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great +fighter, though now a man of peace. + +SHALLOW Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be old +and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger +itches to make one. Though we are justices and +doctors and churchmen, Master Page, we have +some salt of our youth in us. We are the sons of +women, Master Page. + +PAGE 'Tis true, Master Shallow. + +SHALLOW It will be found so, Master Page.--Master +Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am +sworn of the peace. You have showed yourself a +wise physician, and Sir Hugh hath shown himself +a wise and patient churchman. You must go with +me, Master Doctor. + +HOST Pardon, guest Justice. [(To Caius.)] A word, +Monsieur Mockwater. + +DOCTOR CAIUS "Mockvater"? Vat is dat? + +HOST "Mockwater," in our English tongue, is "valor," +bully. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, then I have as much mockvater +as de Englishman. Scurvy jack-dog priest! By gar, +me vill cut his ears. + +HOST He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. + +DOCTOR CAIUS "Clapper-de-claw"? Vat is dat? + +HOST That is, he will make thee amends. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw +me, for, by gar, me vill have it. + +HOST And I will provoke him to 't, or let him wag. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Me tank you for dat. + +HOST And moreover, bully--[(He draws Shallow, Page, +and Slender aside.)] But first, Master guest, and +Master Page, and eke Cavaleiro Slender, go you +through the town to Frogmore. + +PAGE Sir Hugh is there, is he? + +HOST He is there. See what humor he is in; and I will +bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do +well? + +SHALLOW We will do it. + +PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER Adieu, good Master +Doctor. [Page, Shallow, and Slender exit.] + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, me vill kill de priest, for he speak +for a jackanape to Anne Page. + +HOST Let him die. Sheathe thy impatience; throw cold +water on thy choler. Go about the fields with me +through Frogmore. I will bring thee where Mistress +Anne Page is, at a farmhouse a-feasting, and +thou shalt woo her. Cried game! Said I well? + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, me dank you vor dat. By gar, I +love you, and I shall procure-a you de good guest: +de earl, de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my +patients. + +HOST For the which I will be thy adversary toward +Anne Page. Said I well? + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, 'tis good. Vell said. + +HOST Let us wag, then. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Sir Hugh Evans (with a book and a sword) +and Simple (carrying Sir Hugh's gown).] + + +SIR HUGH I pray you now, good Master Slender's servingman +and friend Simple by your name, which +way have you looked for Master Caius, that calls +himself doctor of physic? + +SIMPLE Marry, sir, the Petty-ward, the Park-ward, +every way; Old Windsor way, and every way but +the town way. + +SIR HUGH I most fehemently desire you, you will also +look that way. + +SIMPLE I will, sir. [He exits.] + +SIR HUGH Pless my soul, how full of cholers I am, and +trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have deceived +me. How melancholies I am! I will knog his +urinals about his knave's costard when I have good +opportunities for the 'ork. Pless my soul! +[Sings.] + To shallow rivers, to whose falls + Melodious birds sings madrigals. + There will we make our peds of roses + And a thousand fragrant posies. + To shallow-- +Mercy on me, I have a great dispositions to cry. +[Sings.] + Melodious birds sing madrigals-- + Whenas I sat in Pabylon-- + And a thousand vagram posies. + To shallow rivers, to whose falls + Melodious birds sings madrigals. + +[Enter Simple.] + + +SIMPLE Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh. + +SIR HUGH He's welcome. +[Sings.] + To shallow rivers, to whose falls-- +Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he? + +SIMPLE No weapons, sir. There comes my master, +Master Shallow, and another gentleman, from +Frogmore, over the stile, this way. + +SIR HUGH Pray you, give me my gown--or else keep it +in your arms. + +[Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.] + + +SHALLOW How now, Master Parson? Good morrow, +good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, +and a good student from his book, and it is +wonderful. + +SLENDER, [aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page! + +PAGE God save you, good Sir Hugh! + +SIR HUGH God pless you from His mercy sake, all of +you! + +SHALLOW What, the sword and the word? Do you +study them both, Master Parson? + +PAGE And youthful still--in your doublet and hose +this raw rheumatic day? + +SIR HUGH There is reasons and causes for it. + +PAGE We are come to you to do a good office, Master +Parson. + +SIR HUGH Fery well. What is it? + +PAGE Yonder is a most reverend gentleman who, belike +having received wrong by some person, is at +most odds with his own gravity and patience that +ever you saw. + +SHALLOW I have lived fourscore years and upward. I +never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning +so wide of his own respect. + +SIR HUGH What is he? + +PAGE I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the +renowned French physician. + +SIR HUGH Got's will and His passion of my heart! I had +as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge. + +PAGE Why? + +SIR HUGH He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates +and Galen--and he is a knave besides, a cowardly +knave as you would desires to be acquainted +withal. + +PAGE, [to Shallow] I warrant you, he's the man should +fight with him. + +SLENDER, [aside] O, sweet Anne Page! + +SHALLOW It appears so by his weapons. Keep them +asunder. Here comes Doctor Caius. + +[Enter Host, Doctor Caius, and Rugby. +Caius and Sir Hugh offer to fight.] + + +PAGE Nay, good Master Parson, keep in your weapon. + +SHALLOW So do you, good Master Doctor. + +HOST Disarm them, and let them question. Let them +keep their limbs whole and hack our English. +[Page and Shallow disarm Caius and Sir Hugh.] + +DOCTOR CAIUS, [to Sir Hugh] I pray you, let-a me speak +a word with your ear. Verefore vill you not +meet-a me? + +SIR HUGH, [aside to Caius] Pray you, use your patience. +[(Aloud.)] In good time. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, +John ape. + +SIR HUGH, [aside to Caius] Pray you, let us not be +laughing-stocks to other men's humors. I desire +you in friendship, and I will one way or other +make you amends. [(Aloud.)] By Jeshu, I will knog +your urinal about your knave's cogscomb. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Diable! Jack Rugby, mine Host de Jarteer, +have I not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, +at de place I did appoint? + +SIR HUGH As I am a Christians soul, now look you, this +is the place appointed. I'll be judgment by mine +Host of the Garter. + +HOST Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh, +soul-curer and body-curer! + +DOCTOR CAIUS Ay, dat is very good, excellent. + +HOST Peace, I say! Hear mine Host of the Garter. Am +I politic? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiavel? Shall I +lose my doctor? No, he gives me the potions and +the motions. Shall I lose my parson, my priest, my +Sir Hugh? No, he gives me the proverbs and the +no-verbs. [(To Caius.)] Give me thy hand, terrestrial; +so. [(To Sir Hugh.)] Give me thy hand, celestial; +so. Boys of art, I have deceived you both. I +have directed you to wrong places. Your hearts are +mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be +the issue. [(To Page and Shallow.)] Come, lay their +swords to pawn. [(To Caius and Sir Hugh.)] Follow +me, lads of peace, follow, follow, follow. +[Host exits.] + +SHALLOW Afore God, a mad Host. Follow, gentlemen, +follow. + +SLENDER, [aside] O, sweet Anne Page! +[Shallow, Page, and Slender exit.] + +DOCTOR CAIUS Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a +de sot of us, ha, ha? + +SIR HUGH This is well! He has made us his vloutingstog. +I desire you that we may be friends, and let +us knog our prains together to be revenge on this +same scall, scurvy, cogging companion, the Host of +the Garter. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, with all my heart. He promise +to bring me where is Anne Page. By gar, he deceive +me too. + +SIR HUGH Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, +follow. +[Sir Hugh, Caius, Simple, and Rugby exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Robin followed by Mistress Page.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE Nay, keep your way, little gallant. You +were wont to be a follower, but now you are a +leader. Whether had you rather--lead mine eyes, +or eye your master's heels? + +ROBIN I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man +than follow him like a dwarf. + +MISTRESS PAGE O, you are a flattering boy! Now I see +you'll be a courtier. + +[Enter Ford.] + + +FORD Well met, Mistress Page. Whither go you? + +MISTRESS PAGE Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at +home? + +FORD Ay, and as idle as she may hang together, for +want of company. I think if your husbands were +dead, you two would marry. + +MISTRESS PAGE Be sure of that--two other husbands. + +FORD Where had you this pretty weathercock? + +MISTRESS PAGE I cannot tell what the dickens his name +is my husband had him of.--What do you call your +knight's name, sirrah? + +ROBIN Sir John Falstaff. + +FORD Sir John Falstaff! + +MISTRESS PAGE He, he. I can never hit on 's name. +There is such a league between my goodman and +he. Is your wife at home indeed? + +FORD Indeed, she is. + +MISTRESS PAGE By your leave, sir. I am sick till I see +her. [Mistress Page and Robin exit.] + +FORD Has Page any brains? Hath he any eyes? Hath +he any thinking? Sure they sleep; he hath no use +of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty +mile as easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank +twelve score. He pieces out his wife's inclination. +He gives her folly motion and advantage. And now +she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. +A man may hear this shower sing in the wind. And +Falstaff's boy with her! Good plots they are laid, +and our revolted wives share damnation together. +Well, I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck +the borrowed veil of modesty from the so-seeming +Mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure +and willful Acteon, and to these violent proceedings +all my neighbors shall cry aim. [A clock +strikes.] The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance +bids me search. There I shall find Falstaff. I +shall be rather praised for this than mocked, for it +is as positive as the earth is firm that Falstaff is +there. I will go. + +[Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sir Hugh +Evans, Doctor Caius, and Rugby.] + + +SHALLOW, PAGE, ETC. Well met, Master Ford. + +FORD Trust me, a good knot. I have good cheer at +home, and I pray you all go with me. + +SHALLOW I must excuse myself, Master Ford. + +SLENDER And so must I, sir. We have appointed to dine +with Mistress Anne, and I would not break with +her for more money than I'll speak of. + +SHALLOW We have lingered about a match between +Anne Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we +shall have our answer. + +SLENDER I hope I have your good will, Father Page. + +PAGE You have, Master Slender. I stand wholly for +you.--But my wife, Master Doctor, is for you +altogether. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Ay, be-gar, and de maid is love-a me! My +nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush. + +HOST, [to Page] What say you to young Master Fenton? +He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he +writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April +and May. He will carry 't, he will carry 't. 'Tis in his +buttons he will carry 't. + +PAGE Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman +is of no having. He kept company with the +wild Prince and Poins. He is of too high a region; +he knows too much. No, he shall not knit a knot in +his fortunes with the finger of my substance. If he +take her, let him take her simply. The wealth I have +waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that +way. + +FORD I beseech you heartily, some of you go home +with me to dinner. Besides your cheer, you shall +have sport: I will show you a monster. Master Doctor, +you shall go.--So shall you, Master Page.-- +And you, Sir Hugh. + +SHALLOW Well, fare you well. We shall have the freer +wooing at Master Page's. +[Shallow and Slender exit.] + +DOCTOR CAIUS Go home, John Rugby. I come anon. +[Rugby exits.] + +HOST Farewell, my hearts. I will to my honest knight +Falstaff, and drink canary with him. [He exits.] + +FORD, [aside] I think I shall drink in pipe-wine first +with him; I'll make him dance.--Will you go, +gentles? + +PAGE, DOCTOR CAIUS, and SIR HUGH Have with you to +see this monster. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.] + + +MISTRESS FORD What, John! What, Robert! + +MISTRESS PAGE Quickly, quickly! Is the buck-basket-- + +MISTRESS FORD I warrant.--What, Robert, I say! + +[Enter John and Robert with a large buck-basket.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE Come, come, come. + +MISTRESS FORD Here, set it down. + +MISTRESS PAGE Give your men the charge. We must be +brief. + +MISTRESS FORD Marry, as I told you before, John and +Robert, be ready here hard by in the brewhouse, +and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and +without any pause or staggering take this basket +on your shoulders. That done, trudge with it in all +haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet +Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch close +by the Thames side. + +MISTRESS PAGE You will do it? + +MISTRESS FORD I ha' told them over and over. They lack +no direction.--Be gone, and come when you are +called. [John and Robert exit.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Here comes little Robin. + +[Enter Robin.] + + +MISTRESS FORD How now, my eyas-musket? What news +with you? + +ROBIN My master, Sir John, is come in at your back +door, Mistress Ford, and requests your company. + +MISTRESS PAGE You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been +true to us? + +ROBIN Ay, I'll be sworn. My master knows not of your +being here and hath threatened to put me into +everlasting liberty if I tell you of it, for he swears +he'll turn me away. + +MISTRESS PAGE Thou 'rt a good boy. This secrecy of +thine shall be a tailor to thee and shall make thee a +new doublet and hose.--I'll go hide me. + +MISTRESS FORD Do so.--Go tell thy master I am alone. +[(Robin exits.)] Mistress Page, remember you your +cue. + +MISTRESS PAGE I warrant thee. If I do not act it, hiss +me. [She exits.] + +MISTRESS FORD Go to, then. We'll use this unwholesome +humidity, this gross-wat'ry pumpion. We'll +teach him to know turtles from jays. + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF "Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel?" +Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough. +This is the period of my ambition. O, this blessed +hour! + +MISTRESS FORD O, sweet Sir John! + +FALSTAFF Mistress Ford, I cannot cog. I cannot prate, +Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish: I would +thy husband were dead. I'll speak it before the best +lord: I would make thee my lady. + +MISTRESS FORD I your lady, Sir John? Alas, I should be +a pitiful lady. + +FALSTAFF Let the court of France show me such +another. I see how thine eye would emulate the +diamond. Thou hast the right arched beauty of the +brow that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, +or any tire of Venetian admittance. + +MISTRESS FORD A plain kerchief, Sir John. My brows +become nothing else, nor that well neither. + +FALSTAFF Thou art a tyrant to say so. Thou wouldst +make an absolute courtier, and the firm fixture of +thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait +in a semicircled farthingale. I see what thou wert, +if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. +Come, thou canst not hide it. + +MISTRESS FORD Believe me, there's no such thing in +me. + +FALSTAFF What made me love thee? Let that persuade +thee. There's something extraordinary in thee. +Come, I cannot cog and say thou art this and that +like a many of these lisping hawthorn buds that +come like women in men's apparel and smell like +Bucklersbury in simple time. I cannot. But I love +thee, none but thee; and thou deserv'st it. + +MISTRESS FORD Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love +Mistress Page. + +FALSTAFF Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by +the Counter gate, which is as hateful to me as the +reek of a lime-kiln. + +MISTRESS FORD Well, heaven knows how I love you, +and you shall one day find it. + +FALSTAFF Keep in that mind. I'll deserve it. + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, I must tell you, so you do, or else +I could not be in that mind. + +[Enter Robin.] + + +ROBIN Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! Here's Mistress +Page at the door, sweating and blowing and looking +wildly, and would needs speak with you +presently. + +FALSTAFF She shall not see me. I will ensconce me behind +the arras. + +MISTRESS FORD Pray you, do so. She's a very tattling +woman. [Falstaff stands behind the arras.] + +[Enter Mistress Page.] + +What's the matter? How now? + +MISTRESS PAGE O Mistress Ford, what have you done? +You're shamed, you're overthrown, you're undone +forever! + +MISTRESS FORD What's the matter, good Mistress Page? + +MISTRESS PAGE O well-a-day, Mistress Ford, having an +honest man to your husband, to give him such +cause of suspicion! + +MISTRESS FORD What cause of suspicion? + +MISTRESS PAGE What cause of suspicion? Out upon you! +How am I mistook in you! + +MISTRESS FORD Why, alas, what's the matter? + +MISTRESS PAGE Your husband's coming hither, woman, +with all the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman +that he says is here now in the house, by +your consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence. +You are undone. + +MISTRESS FORD 'Tis not so, I hope. + +MISTRESS PAGE Pray heaven it be not so, that you have +such a man here! But 'tis most certain your husband's +coming, with half Windsor at his heels, to +search for such a one. I come before to tell you. If +you know yourself clear, why, I am glad of it. But if +you have a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be +not amazed! Call all your senses to you; defend +your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life +forever. + +MISTRESS FORD What shall I do? There is a gentleman, +my dear friend; and I fear not mine own shame so +much as his peril. I had rather than a thousand +pound he were out of the house. + +MISTRESS PAGE For shame! Never stand "you had +rather" and "you had rather." Your husband's here +at hand. Bethink you of some conveyance. In the +house you cannot hide him. O, how have you deceived +me! Look, here is a basket. If he be of any +reasonable stature, he may creep in here; and +throw foul linen upon him, as if it were going to +bucking. Or--it is whiting time--send him by your +two men to Datchet Mead. + +MISTRESS FORD He's too big to go in there. What shall I +do? [Falstaff comes forward.] + +FALSTAFF Let me see 't, let me see 't! O, let me see 't! I'll +in, I'll in. Follow your friend's counsel. I'll in. + +MISTRESS PAGE What, Sir John Falstaff? [(Aside to +him.)] Are these your letters, knight? + +FALSTAFF, [aside to Mistress Page] I love thee. Help me +away. Let me creep in here. I'll never-- + +[Falstaff goes into the basket; they cover +him with dirty clothes.] + + + +MISTRESS PAGE, [to Robin] Help to cover your master, +boy.--Call your men, Mistress Ford.--You dissembling +knight! [Robin exits.] + +MISTRESS FORD What, John! Robert! John! + +[Enter Robert and John.] + +Go, take up these clothes here quickly. Where's the +cowlstaff? Look how you drumble! Carry them to +the laundress in Datchet Mead. Quickly! Come. + +[Enter Ford, Page, Doctor Caius, +and Sir Hugh Evans.] + + +FORD Pray you, come near. If I suspect without cause, +why then make sport at me. Then let me be your +jest; I deserve it.--How now? Whither bear you +this? + +ROBERT and JOHN To the laundress, forsooth. + +MISTRESS FORD Why, what have you to do whither they +bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing! + +FORD Buck? I would I could wash myself of the buck. +Buck, buck, buck! Ay, buck! I warrant you, buck, +and of the season too, it shall appear. +[Robert and John exit with the buck-basket.] +Gentlemen, I have dreamed tonight; I'll tell you my +dream. Here, here, here be my keys. Ascend my +chambers. Search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll +unkennel the fox. Let me stop this way first. [(He +locks the door.)] So, now uncape. + +PAGE Good Master Ford, be contented. You wrong +yourself too much. + +FORD True, Master Page.--Up, gentlemen. You shall +see sport anon. Follow me, gentlemen. [He exits.] + +SIR HUGH This is fery fantastical humors and +jealousies. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France. It is +not jealous in France. + +PAGE Nay, follow him, gentlemen. See the issue of his +search. [Page, Sir Hugh, and Caius exit.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Is there not a double excellency in this? + +MISTRESS FORD I know not which pleases me better-- +that my husband is deceived, or Sir John. + +MISTRESS PAGE What a taking was he in when your +husband asked who was in the basket! + +MISTRESS FORD I am half afraid he will have need of +washing, so throwing him into the water will do +him a benefit. + +MISTRESS PAGE Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all +of the same strain were in the same distress. + +MISTRESS FORD I think my husband hath some special +suspicion of Falstaff's being here, for I never saw +him so gross in his jealousy till now. + +MISTRESS PAGE I will lay a plot to try that, and we will +yet have more tricks with Falstaff. His dissolute +disease will scarce obey this medicine. + +MISTRESS FORD Shall we send that foolish carrion Mistress +Quickly to him, and excuse his throwing into +the water, and give him another hope, to betray +him to another punishment? + +MISTRESS PAGE We will do it. Let him be sent for tomorrow +eight o'clock to have amends. + +[Enter Ford, Page, Doctor Caius, and Sir Hugh.] + + +FORD I cannot find him. Maybe the knave bragged of +that he could not compass. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [aside to Mistress Ford] Heard you +that? + +MISTRESS FORD You use me well, Master Ford, do you? + +FORD Ay, I do so. + +MISTRESS FORD Heaven make you better than your +thoughts! + +FORD Amen! + +MISTRESS PAGE You do yourself mighty wrong, Master +Ford. + +FORD Ay, ay. I must bear it. + +SIR HUGH If there be anypody in the house, and in the +chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, +heaven forgive my sins at the day of judgment! + +DOCTOR CAIUS Be gar, nor I too. There is nobodies. + +PAGE Fie, fie, Master Ford, are you not ashamed? +What spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? +I would not ha' your distemper in this kind for the +wealth of Windsor Castle. + +FORD 'Tis my fault, Master Page. I suffer for it. + +SIR HUGH You suffer for a pad conscience. Your wife is +as honest a 'omans as I will desires among five +thousand, and five hundred too. + +DOCTOR CAIUS By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman. + +FORD Well, I promised you a dinner. Come, come, +walk in the park. I pray you, pardon me. I will +hereafter make known to you why I have done +this.--Come, wife--come, Mistress Page, I pray +you, pardon me. Pray, heartily, pardon me. +[Mistress Page and Mistress Ford exit.] + +PAGE, [to Caius and Sir Hugh] Let's go in, gentlemen. +But, trust me, we'll mock him. [(To Ford, Caius, +and Sir Hugh.)] I do invite you tomorrow morning +to my house to breakfast. After, we'll a-birding together; +I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be +so? + +FORD Anything. + +SIR HUGH If there is one, I shall make two in the +company. + +DOCTOR CAIUS If there be one or two, I shall make-a the +turd. + +FORD Pray you, go, Master Page. +[Ford and Page exit.] + +SIR HUGH I pray you now, remembrance tomorrow on +the lousy knave mine Host. + +DOCTOR CAIUS Dat is good, by gar, with all my heart. + +SIR HUGH A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his +mockeries! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Fenton and Anne Page.] + + +FENTON +I see I cannot get thy father's love; +Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan. + +ANNE +Alas, how then? + +FENTON Why, thou must be thyself. +He doth object I am too great of birth, +And that, my state being galled with my expense, +I seek to heal it only by his wealth. +Besides these, other bars he lays before me-- +My riots past, my wild societies-- +And tells me 'tis a thing impossible +I should love thee but as a property. + +ANNE Maybe he tells you true. + +FENTON +No, heaven so speed me in my time to come! +Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth +Was the first motive that I wooed thee, Anne, +Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value +Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags. +And 'tis the very riches of thyself +That now I aim at. + +ANNE Gentle Master Fenton, +Yet seek my father's love, still seek it, sir. +If opportunity and humblest suit +Cannot attain it, why then--hark you hither. +[They talk aside.] + +[Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly.] + + +SHALLOW Break their talk, Mistress Quickly. My kinsman +shall speak for himself. + +SLENDER I'll make a shaft or a bolt on 't. 'Slid, 'tis but +venturing. + +SHALLOW Be not dismayed. + +SLENDER No, she shall not dismay me. I care not for +that, but that I am afeard. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [to Anne] Hark ye, Master Slender +would speak a word with you. + +ANNE +I come to him. [(Aside.)] This is my father's choice. +O, what a world of vile ill-favored faults +Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY And how does good Master Fenton? +Pray you, a word with you. [They talk aside.] + +SHALLOW, [to Slender] She's coming. To her, coz! O +boy, thou hadst a father! + +SLENDER I had a father, Mistress Anne; my uncle can +tell you good jests of him.--Pray you, uncle, tell +Mistress Anne the jest how my father stole two +geese out of a pen, good uncle. + +SHALLOW Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you. + +SLENDER Ay, that I do, as well as I love any woman in +Gloucestershire. + +SHALLOW He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. + +SLENDER Ay, that I will, come cut and longtail, under +the degree of a squire. + +SHALLOW He will make you a hundred and fifty +pounds jointure. + +ANNE Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself. + +SHALLOW Marry, I thank you for it. I thank you for that +good comfort.--She calls you, coz. I'll leave you. +[He steps aside.] + +ANNE Now, Master Slender. + +SLENDER Now, good Mistress Anne. + +ANNE What is your will? + +SLENDER My will? 'Od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest +indeed! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven. I +am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. + +ANNE I mean, Master Slender, what would you with +me? + +SLENDER Truly, for mine own part, I would little or +nothing with you. Your father and my uncle hath +made motions. If it be my luck, so; if not, happy +man be his dole. They can tell you how things go +better than I can. You may ask your father. + +[Enter Page and Mistress Page.] + +Here he comes. + +PAGE +Now, Master Slender.--Love him, daughter Anne.-- +Why, how now? What does Master Fenton here? +You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house. +I told you, sir, my daughter is disposed of. + +FENTON +Nay, Master Page, be not impatient. + +MISTRESS PAGE +Good Master Fenton, come not to my child. + +PAGE She is no match for you. + +FENTON Sir, will you hear me? + +PAGE No, good Master Fenton.-- +Come Master Shallow.--Come, son Slender, in.-- +Knowing my mind, you wrong me, Master Fenton. +[Page, Shallow, and Slender exit.] + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [to Fenton] Speak to Mistress Page. + +FENTON +Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter +In such a righteous fashion as I do, +Perforce, against all checks, rebukes, and manners, +I must advance the colors of my love +And not retire. Let me have your good will. + +ANNE +Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool. + +MISTRESS PAGE +I mean it not; I seek you a better husband. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY That's my master, Master Doctor. + +ANNE +Alas, I had rather be set quick i' th' earth +And bowled to death with turnips! + +MISTRESS PAGE +Come, trouble not yourself.--Good Master Fenton, +I will not be your friend nor enemy. +My daughter will I question how she loves you, +And as I find her, so am I affected. +Till then, farewell, sir. She must needs go in; +Her father will be angry. + +FENTON +Farewell, gentle mistress.--Farewell, Nan. +[Mistress Page and Anne Page exit.] + +MISTRESS QUICKLY This is my doing now. "Nay," said I, +"will you cast away your child on a fool and a +physician? Look on Master Fenton." This is my +doing. + +FENTON +I thank thee; and I pray thee, once tonight +Give my sweet Nan this ring. There's for thy pains. +[He gives her money and a ring.] + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Now heaven send thee good fortune. +[Fenton exits.] +A kind heart he hath. A woman would run through +fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet I +would my master had Mistress Anne, or I would +Master Slender had her, or, in sooth, I would Master +Fenton had her. I will do what I can for them all +three; for so I have promised and I'll be as good as +my word--but speciously for Master Fenton. Well, +I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from +my two mistresses. What a beast am I to slack it! +[She exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF Bardolph, I say! + +[Enter Bardolph.] + + +BARDOLPH Here, sir. + +FALSTAFF Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in 't. +[Bardolph exits.] +Have I lived to be carried in a basket like a barrow +of butcher's offal, and to be thrown in the Thames? +Well, if I be served such another trick, I'll have my +brains ta'en out and buttered, and give them to a +dog for a New Year's gift. 'Sblood, the rogues +slighted me into the river with as little remorse as +they would have drowned a blind bitch's puppies, +fifteen i' th' litter! And you may know by my size +that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom +were as deep as hell, I should down. I had +been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and +shallow--a death that I abhor, for the water swells +a man, and what a thing should I have been when +I had been swelled! By the Lord, I should have +been a mountain of mummy. + +[Enter Bardolph with cups of sack.] + + +BARDOLPH Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF Come, let me pour in some sack to the +Thames water, for my belly's as cold as if I had +swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the reins. [He +drinks.] Call her in. + +BARDOLPH Come in, woman. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly.] + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY By your leave, I cry you mercy. Give +your Worship good morrow. + +FALSTAFF, [to Bardolph] Take away these chalices. Go +brew me a pottle of sack finely. + +BARDOLPH With eggs, sir? + +FALSTAFF Simple of itself. I'll no pullet sperm in my +brewage. [Bardolph exits.] +How now? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Marry, sir, I come to your Worship +from Mistress Ford. + +FALSTAFF Mistress Ford? I have had ford enough. I +was thrown into the ford, I have my belly full of +ford. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Alas the day, good heart, that was +not her fault. She does so take on with her men; +they mistook their erection. + +FALSTAFF So did I mine, to build upon a foolish +woman's promise. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it +would yearn your heart to see it. Her husband goes +this morning a-birding; she desires you once more +to come to her, between eight and nine. I must +carry her word quickly. She'll make you amends, I +warrant you. + +FALSTAFF Well, I will visit her. Tell her so. And bid her +think what a man is. Let her consider his frailty, +and then judge of my merit. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY I will tell her. + +FALSTAFF Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Eight and nine, sir. + +FALSTAFF Well, be gone. I will not miss her. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Peace be with you, sir. +[Mistress Quickly exits.] + +FALSTAFF I marvel I hear not of Master Brook. He +sent me word to stay within. I like his money well. + +[Enter Ford disguised as Brook.] + +O, here he comes. + +FORD, [as Brook] God bless you, sir. + +FALSTAFF Now, Master Brook, you come to know +what hath passed between me and Ford's wife. + +FORD, [as Brook] That indeed, Sir John, is my +business. + +FALSTAFF Master Brook, I will not lie to you. I was at +her house the hour she appointed me. + +FORD, [as Brook] And sped you, sir? + +FALSTAFF Very ill-favoredly, Master Brook. + +FORD, [as Brook] How so, sir? Did she change her +determination? + +FALSTAFF No, Master Brook, but the peaking cornuto +her husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a continual +'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of +our encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, +protested, and, as it were, spoke the prologue of +our comedy, and, at his heels, a rabble of his companions, +thither provoked and instigated by his +distemper, and, forsooth, to search his house for +his wife's love. + +FORD, [as Brook] What, while you were there? + +FALSTAFF While I was there. + +FORD, [as Brook] And did he search for you and could +not find you? + +FALSTAFF You shall hear. As good luck would have it, +comes in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of +Ford's approach, and, in her invention and Ford's +wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a +buck-basket. + +FORD, [as Brook] A buck-basket! + +FALSTAFF By the Lord, a buck-basket! Rammed me +in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, +greasy napkins, that, Master Brook, there +was the rankest compound of villainous smell that +ever offended nostril. + +FORD, [as Brook] And how long lay you there? + +FALSTAFF Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I +have suffered to bring this woman to evil for your +good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple +of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were called forth by +their mistress to carry me in the name of foul +clothes to Datchet Lane. They took me on their +shoulders, met the jealous knave their master in +the door, who asked them once or twice what they +had in their basket. I quaked for fear lest the lunatic +knave would have searched it, but fate, ordaining +he should be a cuckold, held his hand. +Well, on went he for a search, and away went I for +foul clothes. But mark the sequel, Master Brook. +I suffered the pangs of three several deaths: first, +an intolerable fright to be detected with a jealous +rotten bellwether; next, to be compassed, like a +good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to +point, heel to head; and then, to be stopped in, like +a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted +in their own grease. Think of that, a man of my +kidney--think of that--that am as subject to heat +as butter; a man of continual dissolution and thaw. +It was a miracle to 'scape suffocation. And in +the height of this bath, when I was more than half-stewed +in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown +into the Thames and cooled, glowing hot, in that +surge, like a horseshoe! Think of that--hissing +hot--think of that, Master Brook. + +FORD, [as Brook] In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that +for my sake you have suffered all this. My suit, +then, is desperate. You'll undertake her no more? + +FALSTAFF Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, +as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her +thus. Her husband is this morning gone a-birding. +I have received from her another embassy of meeting. +'Twixt eight and nine is the hour, Master +Brook. + +FORD, [as Brook] 'Tis past eight already, sir. + +FALSTAFF Is it? I will then address me to my appointment. +Come to me at your convenient leisure, +and you shall know how I speed; and the conclusion +shall be crowned with your enjoying her. +Adieu. You shall have her, Master Brook. Master +Brook, you shall cuckold Ford. [Falstaff exits.] + +FORD Hum! Ha! Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I +sleep? Master Ford, awake! Awake, Master Ford! +There's a hole made in your best coat, Master +Ford. This 'tis to be married; this 'tis to have linen +and buck-baskets! Well, I will proclaim myself +what I am. I will now take the lecher. He is at my +house. He cannot 'scape me. 'Tis impossible he +should. He cannot creep into a half-penny purse, +nor into a pepper-box. But lest the devil that +guides him should aid him, I will search impossible +places. Though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to +be what I would not shall not make me tame. If I +have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go +with me: I'll be horn-mad. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Quickly, and William.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE Is he at Master Ford's already, think'st +thou? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Sure he is by this, or will be presently. +But truly he is very courageous mad about +his throwing into the water. Mistress Ford desires +you to come suddenly. + +MISTRESS PAGE I'll be with her by and by. I'll but bring +my young man here to school. + +[Enter Sir Hugh Evans.] + +Look where his master comes. 'Tis a playing day, I +see.--How now, Sir Hugh, no school today? + +SIR HUGH No. Master Slender is let the boys leave to +play. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Blessing of his heart! + +MISTRESS PAGE Sir Hugh, my husband says my son +profits nothing in the world at his book. I pray you, +ask him some questions in his accidence. + +SIR HUGH Come hither, William. Hold up your head. +Come. + +MISTRESS PAGE Come on, sirrah. Hold up your head. +Answer your master. Be not afraid. + +SIR HUGH William, how many numbers is in nouns? + +WILLIAM Two. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Truly, I thought there had been one +number more, because they say " 'Od's nouns." + +SIR HUGH Peace your tattlings!--What is "fair," +William? + +WILLIAM Pulcher. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Polecats? There are fairer things +than polecats, sure. + +SIR HUGH You are a very simplicity 'oman. I pray you, +peace.--What is lapis, William? + +WILLIAM A stone. + +SIR HUGH And what is "a stone," William? + +WILLIAM A pebble. + +SIR HUGH No. It is lapis. I pray you, remember in your +prain. + +WILLIAM Lapis. + +SIR HUGH That is a good William. What is he, William, +that does lend articles? + +WILLIAM Articles are borrowed of the pronoun and be +thus declined: singulariter, nominativo, hic, haec, +hoc. + +SIR HUGH Nominativo, hig, haeg, hog. Pray you, mark: +genitivo, huius. Well, what is your accusative case? + +WILLIAM Accusativo, hinc. + +SIR HUGH I pray you, have your remembrance, child. +Accusativo, hung, hang, hog. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY "Hang-hog" is Latin for bacon, I +warrant you. + +SIR HUGH Leave your prabbles, 'oman.--What is the +focative case, William? + +WILLIAM O--vocativo--O-- + +SIR HUGH Remember, William, focative is caret. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY And that's a good root. + +SIR HUGH 'Oman, forbear. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [to Mistress Quickly] Peace! + +SIR HUGH What is your genitive case plural, William? + +WILLIAM Genitive case? + +SIR HUGH Ay. + +WILLIAM Genitive: horum, harum, horum. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Vengeance of Ginny's case! Fie on +her! Never name her, child, if she be a whore. + +SIR HUGH For shame, 'oman! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY You do ill to teach the child such +words.--He teaches him to hick and to hack, +which they'll do fast enough of themselves, and to +call "whorum."--Fie upon you! + +SIR HUGH 'Oman, art thou lunatics? Hast thou no understandings +for thy cases and the numbers of the +genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as +I would desires. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [to Mistress Quickly] Prithee, hold thy +peace. + +SIR HUGH Show me now, William, some declensions of +your pronouns. + +WILLIAM Forsooth, I have forgot. + +SIR HUGH It is qui, quae, quod. If you forget your qui's, +your quae's, and your quod's, you must be +preeches. Go your ways and play, go. + +MISTRESS PAGE He is a better scholar than I thought he +was. + +SIR HUGH He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress +Page. + +MISTRESS PAGE Adieu, good Sir Hugh.--Get you home, +boy. [(To Mistress Quickly.)] Come. We stay too +long. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff and Mistress Ford.] + + +FALSTAFF Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up +my sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your +love, and I profess requital to a hair's breadth, not +only, Mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, +but in all the accoutrement, compliment, and ceremony +of it. But are you sure of your husband now? + +MISTRESS FORD He's a-birding, sweet Sir John. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [within] What ho, gossip Ford! What +ho! + +MISTRESS FORD Step into th' chamber, Sir John. +[Falstaff exits.] + +[Enter Mistress Page.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE How now, sweetheart, who's at home +besides yourself? + +MISTRESS FORD Why, none but mine own people. + +MISTRESS PAGE Indeed? + +MISTRESS FORD No, certainly. [Aside to her.] Speak +louder. + +MISTRESS PAGE Truly, I am so glad you have nobody +here. + +MISTRESS FORD Why? + +MISTRESS PAGE Why, woman, your husband is in his +old lunes again. He so takes on yonder with my +husband, so rails against all married mankind, so +curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever, +and so buffets himself on the forehead, crying +"Peer out, peer out!" that any madness I ever yet +beheld seemed but tameness, civility, and patience +to this his distemper he is in now. I am glad the fat +knight is not here. + +MISTRESS FORD Why, does he talk of him? + +MISTRESS PAGE Of none but him, and swears he was +carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a +basket; protests to my husband he is now here; +and hath drawn him and the rest of their company +from their sport to make another experiment of +his suspicion. But I am glad the knight is not here. +Now he shall see his own foolery. + +MISTRESS FORD How near is he, Mistress Page? + +MISTRESS PAGE Hard by, at street end. He will be here +anon. + +MISTRESS FORD I am undone! The knight is here. + +MISTRESS PAGE Why then, you are utterly shamed, and +he's but a dead man. What a woman are you! Away +with him, away with him! Better shame than +murder. + +MISTRESS FORD Which way should he go? How should +I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket +again? + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF No, I'll come no more i' th' basket. May I not +go out ere he come? + +MISTRESS PAGE Alas, three of Master Ford's brothers +watch the door with pistols, that none shall issue +out. Otherwise you might slip away ere he came. +But what make you here? + +FALSTAFF What shall I do? I'll creep up into the +chimney. + +MISTRESS FORD There they always use to discharge +their birding pieces. + +MISTRESS PAGE Creep into the kiln-hole. + +FALSTAFF Where is it? + +MISTRESS FORD He will seek there, on my word. Neither +press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he +hath an abstract for the remembrance of such +places, and goes to them by his note. There is no +hiding you in the house. + +FALSTAFF I'll go out, then. + +MISTRESS PAGE If you go out in your own semblance, +you die, Sir John--unless you go out disguised. + +MISTRESS FORD How might we disguise him? + +MISTRESS PAGE Alas the day, I know not. There is no +woman's gown big enough for him; otherwise he +might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and +so escape. + +FALSTAFF Good hearts, devise something. Any extremity +rather than a mischief. + +MISTRESS FORD My maid's aunt, the fat woman of +Brentford, has a gown above. + +MISTRESS PAGE On my word, it will serve him. She's as +big as he is. And there's her thrummed hat and her +muffler too.--Run up, Sir John. + +MISTRESS FORD Go, go, sweet Sir John. Mistress Page +and I will look some linen for your head. + +MISTRESS PAGE Quick, quick! We'll come dress you +straight. Put on the gown the while. +[Falstaff exits.] + +MISTRESS FORD I would my husband would meet him +in this shape. He cannot abide the old woman of +Brentford. He swears she's a witch, forbade her my +house, and hath threatened to beat her. + +MISTRESS PAGE Heaven guide him to thy husband's +cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards! + +MISTRESS FORD But is my husband coming? + +MISTRESS PAGE Ay, in good sadness is he, and talks of +the basket too, howsoever he hath had +intelligence. + +MISTRESS FORD We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men +to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door +with it as they did last time. + +MISTRESS PAGE Nay, but he'll be here presently. Let's go +dress him like the witch of Brentford. + +MISTRESS FORD I'll first direct my men what they shall +do with the basket. Go up. I'll bring linen for him +straight. [She exits.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Hang him, dishonest varlet! We cannot +misuse him enough. +We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do, +Wives may be merry and yet honest too. +We do not act that often jest and laugh; +'Tis old but true: "Still swine eats all the draff." +[She exits.] + +[Enter Mistress Ford with Robert and John, +who bring the buck-basket.] + + +MISTRESS FORD Go, sirs, take the basket again on your +shoulders. Your master is hard at door. If he bid +you set it down, obey him. Quickly, dispatch. +[She exits.] + +ROBERT Come, come, take it up. + +JOHN Pray heaven it be not full of knight again. + +ROBERT I hope not. I had lief as bear so much lead. +[They pick up the basket.] + +[Enter Ford, Page, Doctor Caius, Sir Hugh +Evans, and Shallow.] + + +FORD Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you +any way then to unfool me again?--Set down the +basket, villain. [They put the basket down.] Somebody +call my wife. Youth in a basket! O, you panderly +rascals! There's a knot, a gang, a pack, a +conspiracy against me. Now shall the devil be +shamed.--What, wife, I say! Come, come forth! +Behold what honest clothes you send forth to +bleaching! + +PAGE Why, this passes, Master Ford! You are not to go +loose any longer; you must be pinioned. + +SIR HUGH Why, this is lunatics. This is mad as a mad +dog. + +SHALLOW Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed. + +FORD So say I too, sir. + +[Enter Mistress Ford.] + +Come hither, Mistress Ford.--Mistress Ford, the +honest woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, +that hath the jealous fool to her husband!--I +suspect without cause, mistress, do I? + +MISTRESS FORD Heaven be my witness you do, if you +suspect me in any dishonesty. + +FORD Well said, brazen-face. Hold it out.--Come +forth, sirrah. [He pulls clothes out of the basket.] + +PAGE This passes. + +MISTRESS FORD Are you not ashamed? Let the clothes +alone. + +FORD I shall find you anon. + +SIR HUGH 'Tis unreasonable. Will you take up your +wife's clothes? Come, away. + +FORD, [to the Servants] Empty the basket, I say. + +MISTRESS FORD Why, man, why? + +FORD Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conveyed +out of my house yesterday in this basket. +Why may not he be there again? In my house I am +sure he is. My intelligence is true, my jealousy is +reasonable.--Pluck me out all the linen. + +MISTRESS FORD If you find a man there, he shall die a +flea's death. [Robert and John empty the basket.] + +PAGE Here's no man. + +SHALLOW By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford. +This wrongs you. + +SIR HUGH Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow +the imaginations of your own heart. This is +jealousies. + +FORD Well, he's not here I seek for. + +PAGE No, nor nowhere else but in your brain. + +FORD Help to search my house this one time. If I find +not what I seek, show no color for my extremity. +Let me forever be your table-sport. Let them say of +me "As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow +walnut for his wife's leman." Satisfy me once +more. Once more search with me. +[Robert and John refill the basket and carry it off.] + +MISTRESS FORD, [calling offstage] What ho, Mistress +Page! Come you and the old woman down. My +husband will come into the chamber. + +FORD "Old woman"? What old woman's that? + +MISTRESS FORD Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brentford. + +FORD A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have +I not forbid her my house? She comes of errands, +does she? We are simple men; we do not know +what's brought to pass under the profession of +fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by +th' figure, and such daubery as this is, beyond our +element. We know nothing.-- Come down, you +witch, you hag, you! Come down, I say! +[Ford seizes a cudgel.] + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, good sweet husband!--Good gentlemen, +let him not strike the old woman. + +[Enter Mistress Page and Sir John Falstaff disguised +as an old woman.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE Come, Mother Pratt; come, give me +your hand. + +FORD I'll pratt her. [(He beats Falstaff.)] Out of my +door, you witch, you rag, you baggage, you polecat, +you runnion! Out, out! I'll conjure you, I'll +fortune-tell you! [Falstaff exits.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Are you not ashamed? I think you have +killed the poor woman. + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, he will do it.--'Tis a goodly credit +for you. + +FORD Hang her, witch! + +SIR HUGH By yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch +indeed. I like not when a 'oman has a great peard. +I spy a great peard under her muffler. + +FORD Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow. +See but the issue of my jealousy. If I cry out +thus upon no trail, never trust me when I open +again. + +PAGE Let's obey his humor a little further. Come, +gentlemen. +[Ford, Page, Caius, Sir Hugh, and Shallow exit.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. + +MISTRESS FORD Nay, by th' Mass, that he did not; he +beat him most unpitifully, methought. + +MISTRESS PAGE I'll have the cudgel hallowed and hung +o'er the altar. It hath done meritorious service. + +MISTRESS FORD What think you? May we, with the +warrant of womanhood and the witness of a good +conscience, pursue him with any further revenge? + +MISTRESS PAGE The spirit of wantonness is, sure, +scared out of him. If the devil have him not in fee +simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I +think, in the way of waste, attempt us again. + +MISTRESS FORD Shall we tell our husbands how we +have served him? + +MISTRESS PAGE Yes, by all means--if it be but to scrape +the figures out of your husband's brains. If they +can find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat +knight shall be any further afflicted, we two will +still be the ministers. + +MISTRESS FORD I'll warrant they'll have him publicly +shamed, and methinks there would be no period to +the jest should he not be publicly shamed. + +MISTRESS PAGE Come, to the forge with it, then shape +it. I would not have things cool. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Host and Bardolph.] + + +BARDOLPH Sir, the Germans desire to have three of +your horses. The Duke himself will be tomorrow at +court, and they are going to meet him. + +HOST What duke should that be comes so secretly? I +hear not of him in the court. Let me speak with the +gentlemen. They speak English? + +BARDOLPH Ay, sir. I'll call them to you. + +HOST They shall have my horses, but I'll make them +pay. I'll sauce them. They have had my house a +week at command; I have turned away my other +guests. They must come off. I'll sauce them. Come. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and +Sir Hugh Evans.] + + +SIR HUGH 'Tis one of the best discretions of a 'oman as +ever I did look upon. + +PAGE And did he send you both these letters at an +instant? + +MISTRESS PAGE Within a quarter of an hour. + +FORD +Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt. +I rather will suspect the sun with cold +Than thee with wantonness. Now doth thy honor +stand, +In him that was of late an heretic, +As firm as faith. + +PAGE 'Tis well, 'tis well. No more. +Be not as extreme in submission as in offense. +But let our plot go forward. Let our wives +Yet once again, to make us public sport, +Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow, +Where we may take him and disgrace him for it. + +FORD +There is no better way than that they spoke of. + +PAGE How, to send him word they'll meet him in the +park at midnight? Fie, fie, he'll never come. + +SIR HUGH You say he has been thrown in the rivers +and has been grievously peaten as an old 'oman. +Methinks there should be terrors in him, that he +should not come. Methinks his flesh is punished; +he shall have no desires. + +PAGE So think I too. + +MISTRESS FORD +Devise but how you'll use him when he comes, +And let us two devise to bring him thither. + +MISTRESS PAGE +There is an old tale goes that Herne the Hunter, +Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest, +Doth all the wintertime, at still midnight, +Walk round about an oak, with great ragged horns, +And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle, +And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a +chain +In a most hideous and dreadful manner. +You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know +The superstitious idle-headed eld +Received and did deliver to our age +This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth. + +PAGE +Why, yet there want not many that do fear +In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak. +But what of this? + +MISTRESS FORD Marry, this is our device, +That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us. + +PAGE +Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come. +And in this shape when you have brought him +thither, +What shall be done with him? What is your plot? + +MISTRESS PAGE +That likewise have we thought upon, and thus: +Nan Page my daughter, and my little son, +And three or four more of their growth we'll dress +Like urchins, aufs, and fairies, green and white, +With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads +And rattles in their hands. Upon a sudden, +As Falstaff, she, and I are newly met, +Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once +With some diffused song. Upon their sight, +We two in great amazedness will fly. +Then let them all encircle him about, +And, fairy-like, to pinch the unclean knight, +And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel, +In their so sacred paths he dares to tread +In shape profane. + +FORD And till he tell the truth, +Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound +And burn him with their tapers. + +MISTRESS PAGE The truth being known, +We'll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit, +And mock him home to Windsor. + +FORD The children must +Be practiced well to this, or they'll ne'er do 't. + +SIR HUGH I will teach the children their behaviors, and +I will be like a jackanapes also, to burn the knight +with my taber. + +FORD That will be excellent. I'll go buy them vizards. + +MISTRESS PAGE +My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies, +Finely attired in a robe of white. + +PAGE +That silk will I go buy. [(Aside.)] And in that time +Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away +And marry her at Eton.--Go, send to Falstaff +straight. + +FORD +Nay, I'll to him again in name of Brook. +He'll tell me all his purpose. Sure he'll come. + +MISTRESS PAGE +Fear not you that. Go get us properties +And tricking for our fairies. + +SIR HUGH Let us about it. It is admirable pleasures and +fery honest knaveries. +[Page, Ford, and Sir Hugh exit.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Go, Mistress Ford, +Send quickly to Sir John to know his mind. +[Mistress Ford exits.] +I'll to the doctor. He hath my good will, +And none but he, to marry with Nan Page. +That Slender, though well-landed, is an idiot, +And he my husband best of all affects. +The doctor is well-moneyed, and his friends +Potent at court. He, none but he, shall have her, +Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her. +[She exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Host and Simple.] + + +HOST What wouldst thou have, boor? What, thickskin? +Speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, +snap. + +SIMPLE Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff +from Master Slender. + +HOST There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his +standing-bed and truckle-bed. 'Tis painted about +with the story of the Prodigal, fresh and new. Go, +knock and call. He'll speak like an Anthropophaginian +unto thee. Knock, I say. + +SIMPLE There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up +into his chamber. I'll be so bold as stay, sir, till she +come down. I come to speak with her, indeed. + +HOST Ha? A fat woman? The knight may be robbed. +I'll call.--Bully knight! Bully Sir John! Speak from +thy lungs military. Art thou there? It is thine Host, +thine Ephesian, calls. + +FALSTAFF, [within] How now, mine Host? + +HOST Here's a Bohemian Tartar tarries the coming +down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let +her descend. My chambers are honorable. Fie! Privacy? +Fie! + +[Enter Sir John Falstaff.] + + +FALSTAFF There was, mine Host, an old fat woman +even now with me, but she's gone. + +SIMPLE Pray you, sir, was 't not the wise woman of +Brentford? + +FALSTAFF Ay, marry, was it, mussel-shell. What would +you with her? + +SIMPLE My master, sir, my Master Slender, sent to her, +seeing her go through the streets, to know, sir, +whether one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, +had the chain or no. + +FALSTAFF I spake with the old woman about it. + +SIMPLE And what says she, I pray, sir? + +FALSTAFF Marry, she says that the very same man that +beguiled Master Slender of his chain cozened him +of it. + +SIMPLE I would I could have spoken with the woman +herself. I had other things to have spoken with her +too from him. + +FALSTAFF What are they? Let us know. + +HOST Ay, come. Quick! + +SIMPLE I may not conceal them, sir. + +HOST Conceal them, or thou diest. + +SIMPLE Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress +Anne Page, to know if it were my master's fortune +to have her or no. + +FALSTAFF 'Tis; 'tis his fortune. + +SIMPLE What, sir? + +FALSTAFF To have her or no. Go. Say the woman told +me so. + +SIMPLE May I be bold to say so, sir? + +FALSTAFF Ay, sir; like who more bold. + +SIMPLE I thank your Worship. I shall make my master +glad with these tidings. [He exits.] + +HOST Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John. Was +there a wise woman with thee? + +FALSTAFF Ay, that there was, mine Host, one that hath +taught me more wit than ever I learned before in +my life. And I paid nothing for it neither, but was +paid for my learning. + +[Enter Bardolph.] + + +BARDOLPH, [to Host] Out, alas, sir, cozenage, mere +cozenage! + +HOST Where be my horses? Speak well of them, +varletto. + +BARDOLPH Run away with the cozeners. For so soon as +I came beyond Eton, they threw me off from behind +one of them in a slough of mire, and set +spurs, and away, like three German devils, three +Doctor Faustuses. + +HOST They are gone but to meet the Duke, villain. Do +not say they be fled. Germans are honest men. + +[Enter Sir Hugh Evans.] + + +SIR HUGH Where is mine Host? + +HOST What is the matter, sir? + +SIR HUGH Have a care of your entertainments. There is +a friend of mine come to town tells me there is +three cozen-Germans that has cozened all the +hosts of Readings, of Maidenhead, of Colnbrook, +of horses and money. I tell you for good will, look +you. You are wise, and full of gibes and vlouting-stocks, +and 'tis not convenient you should be cozened. +Fare you well. [He exits.] + +[Enter Doctor Caius.] + + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vere is mine Host de Jarteer? + +HOST Here, Master Doctor, in perplexity and doubtful +dilemma. + +DOCTOR CAIUS I cannot tell vat is dat. But it is tell-a me +dat you make grand preparation for a duke de +Jamanie. By my trot, dere is no duke that the court +is know to come. I tell you for good will. Adieu. +[He exits.] + +HOST, [to Bardolph] Hue and cry, villain, go!--Assist +me, knight. I am undone.--Fly, run; hue and cry, +villain! I am undone. [Host and Bardolph exit.] + +FALSTAFF I would all the world might be cozened, for I +have been cozened and beaten too. If it should +come to the ear of the court how I have been transformed, +and how my transformation hath been +washed and cudgeled, they would melt me out of +my fat drop by drop, and liquor fishermen's boots +with me. I warrant they would whip me with their +fine wits till I were as crestfallen as a dried pear. I +never prospered since I forswore myself at +primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough, I +would repent. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly.] + +Now, whence come you? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY From the two parties, forsooth. + +FALSTAFF The devil take one party, and his dam the +other, and so they shall be both bestowed. I have +suffered more for their sakes, more than the villainous +inconstancy of man's disposition is able to +bear. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY And have not they suffered? Yes, I +warrant, speciously one of them. Mistress Ford, +good heart, is beaten black and blue that you cannot +see a white spot about her. + +FALSTAFF What tell'st thou me of black and blue? I was +beaten myself into all the colors of the rainbow, +and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of +Brentford. But that my admirable dexterity of wit, +my counterfeiting the action of an old woman, delivered +me, the knave constable had set me i' th' +stocks, i' th' common stocks, for a witch. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY Sir, let me speak with you in your +chamber. You shall hear how things go, and, I warrant, +to your content. Here is a letter will say +somewhat. [She gives him a paper.] Good hearts, +what ado here is to bring you together! Sure, one +of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so +crossed. + +FALSTAFF Come up into my chamber. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Fenton and Host.] + + +HOST Master Fenton, talk not to me. My mind is +heavy. I will give over all. + +FENTON +Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose, +And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee +A hundred pound in gold more than your loss. + +HOST I will hear you, Master Fenton, and I will, at the +least, keep your counsel. + +FENTON +From time to time I have acquainted you +With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page, +Who mutually hath answered my affection, +So far forth as herself might be her chooser, +Even to my wish. I have a letter from her +Of such contents as you will wonder at, +The mirth whereof so larded with my matter +That neither singly can be manifested +Without the show of both. Fat Falstaff +Hath a great scene; the image of the jest +I'll show you here at large. [He shows the Host a +paper.] Hark, good mine Host: +Tonight at Herne's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one, +Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen-- +The purpose why is here--in which disguise, +While other jests are something rank on foot, +Her father hath commanded her to slip +Away with Slender, and with him at Eton +Immediately to marry. She hath consented. Now, sir, +Her mother, ever strong against that match +And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed +That he shall likewise shuffle her away, +While other sports are tasking of their minds, +And at the dean'ry, where a priest attends, +Straight marry her. To this her mother's plot +She, seemingly obedient, likewise hath +Made promise to the doctor. Now, thus it rests: +Her father means she shall be all in white, +And in that habit, when Slender sees his time +To take her by the hand and bid her go, +She shall go with him. Her mother hath intended +The better to denote her to the doctor-- +For they must all be masked and vizarded-- +That quaint in green she shall be loose enrobed, +With ribbons pendent flaring 'bout her head; +And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe, +To pinch her by the hand, and on that token +The maid hath given consent to go with him. + +HOST +Which means she to deceive, father or mother? + +FENTON +Both, my good Host, to go along with me. +And here it rests, that you'll procure the vicar +To stay for me at church 'twixt twelve and one, +And, in the lawful name of marrying, +To give our hearts united ceremony. + +HOST +Well, husband your device. I'll to the vicar. +Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest. + +FENTON +So shall I evermore be bound to thee; +Besides, I'll make a present recompense. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff and Mistress Quickly.] + + +FALSTAFF Prithee, no more prattling. Go. I'll hold. This +is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. +Away, go. They say there is divinity in odd +numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. +Away. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY I'll provide you a chain, and I'll do +what I can to get you a pair of horns. + +FALSTAFF Away, I say! Time wears. Hold up your head, +and mince. [Mistress Quickly exits.] + +[Enter Ford disguised as Brook.] + +How now, Master Brook! Master Brook, the +matter will be known tonight or never. Be you in +the park about midnight, at Herne's oak, and you +shall see wonders. + +FORD, [as Brook] Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as +you told me you had appointed? + +FALSTAFF I went to her, Master Brook, as you see, +like a poor old man, but I came from her, Master +Brook, like a poor old woman. That same knave +Ford, her husband, hath the finest mad devil of +jealousy in him, Master Brook, that ever governed +frenzy. I will tell you, he beat me grievously, +in the shape of a woman; for in the shape of man, +Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's +beam, because I know also life is a shuttle. I am in +haste. Go along with me; I'll tell you all, Master +Brook. Since I plucked geese, played truant, and +whipped top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten +till lately. Follow me. I'll tell you strange things of +this knave Ford, on whom tonight I will be revenged, +and I will deliver his wife into your hand. +Follow. Strange things in hand, Master Brook! +Follow. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.] + + +PAGE Come, come. We'll couch i' th' castle ditch till we +see the light of our fairies.--Remember, son Slender, +my-- + +SLENDER Ay, forsooth, I have spoke with her, and we +have a nayword how to know one another. I come +to her in white and cry "mum," she cries "budget," +and by that we know one another. + +SHALLOW That's good too. But what needs either your +"mum" or her "budget"? The white will decipher +her well enough. It hath struck ten o'clock. + +PAGE The night is dark. Light and spirits will become +it well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means +evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his +horns. Let's away. Follow me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Doctor Caius.] + + +MISTRESS PAGE Master Doctor, my daughter is in +green. When you see your time, take her by the +hand; away with her to the deanery, and dispatch +it quickly. Go before into the park. We two must go +together. + +DOCTOR CAIUS I know vat I have to do. Adieu. + +MISTRESS PAGE Fare you well, sir. [Caius exits.] +My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse +of Falstaff as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying +my daughter. But 'tis no matter. Better a little chiding +than a great deal of heartbreak. + +MISTRESS FORD Where is Nan now, and her troop of +fairies, and the Welsh devil Hugh? + +MISTRESS PAGE They are all couched in a pit hard by +Herne's oak, with obscured lights, which, at the +very instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will +at once display to the night. + +MISTRESS FORD That cannot choose but amaze him. + +MISTRESS PAGE If he be not amazed, he will be +mocked. If he be amazed, he will every way be +mocked. + +MISTRESS FORD We'll betray him finely. + +MISTRESS PAGE +Against such lewdsters and their lechery, +Those that betray them do no treachery. + +MISTRESS FORD The hour draws on. To the oak, to the +oak! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Sir Hugh Evans and boys disguised, +like him, as Fairies.] + + +SIR HUGH Trib, trib, fairies! Come, and remember +your parts. Be pold, I pray you. Follow me into the +pit, and when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid +you. Come, come; trib, trib. [They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Sir John Falstaff wearing a buck's head.] + + +FALSTAFF The Windsor bell hath struck twelve. The +minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist +me! Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy +Europa; love set on thy horns. O powerful love, +that in some respects makes a beast a man, in +some other a man a beast! You were also, Jupiter, +a swan for the love of Leda. O omnipotent love, +how near the god drew to the complexion of a +goose! A fault done first in the form of a beast; O +Jove, a beastly fault! And then another fault in the +semblance of a fowl; think on 't, Jove, a foul fault. +When gods have hot backs, what shall poor men +do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag, and the fattest, +I think, i' th' forest. Send me a cool rut-time, +Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow? + +[Enter Mistress Page and Mistress Ford.] + +Who comes here? My doe? + +MISTRESS FORD Sir John? Art thou there, my deer, my +male deer? + +FALSTAFF My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain +potatoes, let it thunder to the tune of "Greensleeves," +hail kissing-comfits, and snow eryngoes; let there +come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me +here. [He embraces her.] + +MISTRESS FORD Mistress Page is come with me, +sweetheart. + +FALSTAFF Divide me like a bribed buck, each a haunch. +I will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for +the fellow of this walk, and my horns I bequeath +your husbands. Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like +Herne the Hunter? Why, now is Cupid a child of +conscience; he makes restitution. As I am a true +spirit, welcome. [A noise of horns within.] + +MISTRESS PAGE Alas, what noise? + +MISTRESS FORD Heaven forgive our sins! + +FALSTAFF What should this be? + +MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE Away, away. +[The two women run off.] + +FALSTAFF I think the devil will not have me damned, +lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire. He +would never else cross me thus. + +[Enter Mistress Quickly, Pistol, Sir Hugh Evans, +Anne Page and boys, all disguised as Fairies and +carrying tapers.] + + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [as Fairy Queen] +Fairies black, gray, green, and white, +You moonshine revelers and shades of night, +You orphan heirs of fixed destiny, +Attend your office and your quality. +Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. + +PISTOL, [as Hobgoblin] +Elves, list your names. Silence, you airy toys!-- +Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap, +Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths +unswept. +There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry. +Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery. + +FALSTAFF, [aside] +They are fairies. He that speaks to them shall die. +I'll wink and couch. No man their works must eye. +[He crouches down and covers his eyes.] + +SIR HUGH, [as a fairy] +Where's Bead? Go you, and where you find a maid +That ere she sleep has thrice her prayers said, +Raise up the organs of her fantasy; +Sleep she as sound as careless infancy. +But those as sleep and think not on their sins, +Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and +shins. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [as Fairy Queen] About, about! +Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out. +Strew good luck, aufs, on every sacred room, +That it may stand till the perpetual doom +In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit, +Worthy the owner, and the owner it. +The several chairs of order look you scour +With juice of balm and every precious flower. +Each fair installment, coat, and sev'ral crest +With loyal blazon evermore be blest! +And nightly, meadow fairies, look you sing, +Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring. +Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be, +More fertile-fresh than all the field to see; +And Honi soit qui mal y pense write +In em'rald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white, +Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery, +Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee. +Fairies use flowers for their charactery. +Away, disperse! But till 'tis one o'clock, +Our dance of custom round about the oak +Of Herne the Hunter let us not forget. + +SIR HUGH, [as a fairy] +Pray you, lock hand in hand. Yourselves in order set; +And twenty glowworms shall our lanterns be, +To guide our measure round about the tree. +But stay! I smell a man of Middle Earth. + +FALSTAFF, [aside] Heavens defend me from that Welsh +fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese. + +PISTOL, [as Hobgoblin, to Falstaff] +Vile worm, thou wast o'erlooked even in thy birth. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [as Fairy Queen, to Sir Hugh] +With trial-fire touch me his finger-end. +If he be chaste, the flame will back descend +And turn him to no pain. But if he start, +It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. + +PISTOL, [as Hobgoblin] +A trial, come! + +SIR HUGH, [as a fairy] Come, will this wood take fire? +[Sir Hugh puts a taper to Falstaff's finger, and he starts.] + +FALSTAFF O, O, O! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY, [as Fairy Queen] +Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! +About him, fairies. Sing a scornful rhyme, +And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. + +[Here they pinch him and sing about him, and Doctor +Caius comes one way and steals away a boy in white. +And Slender comes another way; he takes a boy in +green. And Fenton steals Mistress Anne Page.] + + +FAIRIES [sing] + Fie on sinful fantasy! + Fie on lust and luxury! + Lust is but a bloody fire + Kindled with unchaste desire, + Fed in heart whose flames aspire + As thoughts do blow them higher and higher. + Pinch him, fairies, mutually; + Pinch him for his villainy. +Pinch him and burn him and turn him about, +Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out. + +[A noise of hunting is made within, and all the fairies +run away from Falstaff, who pulls off his buck's head +and rises up. Enter Page, Mistress Page, +Mistress Ford and Ford.] + + +PAGE, [to Falstaff] +Nay, do not fly. I think we have watched you now. +Will none but Herne the Hunter serve your turn? + +MISTRESS PAGE +I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher.-- +Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives? +[She points to the horns.] +See you these, husband? Do not these fair yokes +Become the forest better than the town? + +FORD, [to Falstaff] Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? +Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly +knave. Here are his horns, Master Brook. And, +Master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's +but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty +pounds of money, which must be paid to Master +Brook. His horses are arrested for it, Master +Brook. + +MISTRESS FORD Sir John, we have had ill luck. We +could never meet. I will never take you for my love +again, but I will always count you my deer. + +FALSTAFF I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. + +FORD Ay, and an ox too. Both the proofs are extant. + +FALSTAFF And these are not fairies. I was three or four +times in the thought they were not fairies; and yet +the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of +my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into +a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all +rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now +how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent when 'tis upon +ill employment. + +SIR HUGH Sir John Falstaff, serve Got and leave your +desires, and fairies will not pinse you. + +FORD Well said, Fairy Hugh. + +SIR HUGH And leave you your jealousies too, I pray +you. + +FORD I will never mistrust my wife again till thou art +able to woo her in good English. + +FALSTAFF Have I laid my brain in the sun and dried it, +that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching +as this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? +Shall I have a coxcomb of frieze? 'Tis time I were +choked with a piece of toasted cheese. + +SIR HUGH Seese is not good to give putter. Your belly is +all putter. + +FALSTAFF "Seese" and "putter"? Have I lived to stand at +the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? +This is enough to be the decay of lust and late +walking through the realm. + +MISTRESS PAGE Why, Sir John, do you think though we +would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the +head and shoulders, and have given ourselves +without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could +have made you our delight? + +FORD What, a hodge-pudding? A bag of flax? + +MISTRESS PAGE A puffed man? + +PAGE Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails? + +FORD And one that is as slanderous as Satan? + +PAGE And as poor as Job? + +FORD And as wicked as his wife? + +SIR HUGH And given to fornications, and to taverns, +and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings +and swearings and starings, pribbles and +prabbles? + +FALSTAFF Well, I am your theme. You have the start of +me. I am dejected. I am not able to answer the +Welsh flannel. Ignorance itself is a plummet o'er +me. Use me as you will. + +FORD Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor to one +Master Brook, that you have cozened of money, +to whom you should have been a pander. Over and +above that you have suffered, I think to repay that +money will be a biting affliction. + +PAGE Yet be cheerful, knight. Thou shalt eat a posset +tonight at my house, where I will desire thee to +laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her +Master Slender hath married her daughter. + +MISTRESS PAGE, [aside] Doctors doubt that. If Anne +Page be my daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius' +wife. + +[Enter Slender.] + + +SLENDER Whoa, ho, ho, Father Page! + +PAGE Son, how now! How now, son! Have you +dispatched? + +SLENDER "Dispatched"? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire +know on 't. Would I were hanged, la, else! + +PAGE Of what, son? + +SLENDER I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress +Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had +not been i' th' church, I would have swinged him, +or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it +had been Anne Page, would I might never stir! And +'tis a post-master's boy. + +PAGE Upon my life, then, you took the wrong-- + +SLENDER What need you tell me that? I think so, when +I took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, +for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not +have had him. + +PAGE Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you +how you should know my daughter by her +garments? + +SLENDER I went to her in white, and cried "mum," +and she cried "budget," as Anne and I had appointed, +and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's +boy. + +MISTRESS PAGE Good George, be not angry. I knew of +your purpose, turned my daughter into green, +and indeed she is now with the doctor at the deanery, +and there married. + +[Enter Doctor Caius.] + + +DOCTOR CAIUS Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened! +I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paysan, by +gar, a boy. It is not Anne Page. By gar, I am +cozened. + +MISTRESS PAGE Why? Did you take her in green? + +DOCTOR CAIUS Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy. Be gar, I'll raise +all Windsor. + +FORD This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne? + +[Enter Fenton and Anne Page.] + + +PAGE My heart misgives me. Here comes Master Fenton.-- +How now, Master Fenton! + +ANNE Pardon, good father. Good my mother, pardon. + +PAGE Now, mistress, how chance you went not with +Master Slender? + +MISTRESS PAGE +Why went you not with Master Doctor, maid? + +FENTON +You do amaze her. Hear the truth of it. +You would have married her most shamefully, +Where there was no proportion held in love. +The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, +Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. +Th' offense is holy that she hath committed, +And this deceit loses the name of craft, +Of disobedience, or unduteous title, +Since therein she doth evitate and shun +A thousand irreligious cursed hours +Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. + +FORD, [to Page and Mistress Page] +Stand not amazed. Here is no remedy. +In love the heavens themselves do guide the state. +Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. + +FALSTAFF I am glad, though you have ta'en a special +stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath +glanced. + +PAGE +Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy. +What cannot be eschewed must be embraced. + +FALSTAFF +When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased. + +MISTRESS PAGE +Well, I will muse no further.--Master Fenton, +Heaven give you many, many merry days.-- +Good husband, let us every one go home +And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire-- +Sir John and all. + +FORD Let it be so, Sir John. +To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word, +For he tonight shall lie with Mistress Ford. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-phoenix-and-turtle_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-phoenix-and-turtle_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f19259 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-phoenix-and-turtle_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,102 @@ +The Phoenix and Turtle +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-phoenix-and-turtle/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.0.1 + + +"The Phoenix and Turtle" + + +Let the bird of loudest lay +On the sole Arabian tree +Herald sad and trumpet be, +To whose sound chaste wings obey. + +But thou shrieking harbinger, +Foul precurrer of the fiend, +Augur of the fever's end, +To this troop come thou not near. + +From this session interdict +Every fowl of tyrant wing, +Save the eagle, feathered king; +Keep the obsequy so strict. + +Let the priest in surplice white, +That defunctive music can, +Be the death-divining swan, +Lest the requiem lack his right. + +And thou treble-dated crow, +That thy sable gender mak'st +With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, +'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. + +Here the anthem doth commence: +Love and constancy is dead, +Phoenix and the turtle fled +In a mutual flame from hence. + +So they loved, as love in twain +Had the essence but in one, +Two distincts, division none; +Number there in love was slain. + +Hearts remote yet not asunder, +Distance and no space was seen +'Twixt this turtle and his queen; +But in them it were a wonder. + +So between them love did shine +That the turtle saw his right +Flaming in the phoenix' sight; +Either was the other's mine. + +Property was thus appalled +That the self was not the same; +Single nature's double name +Neither two nor one was called. + +Reason, in itself confounded, +Saw division grow together, +To themselves yet either neither, +Simple were so well compounded + +That it cried, "How true a twain +Seemeth this concordant one! +Love hath reason, Reason none, +If what parts can so remain," + +Whereupon it made this threne +To the phoenix and the dove, +Co-supremes and stars of love, +As chorus to their tragic scene. + + +Threnos + + +Beauty, truth, and rarity, +Grace in all simplicity, +Here enclosed, in cinders lie. + +Death is now the phoenix' nest, +And the turtle's loyal breast +To eternity doth rest, + +Leaving no posterity; +'Twas not their infirmity, +It was married chastity. + +Truth may seem, but cannot be; +Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; +Truth and beauty buried be. + +To this urn let those repair +That are either true or fair; +For these dead birds sigh a prayer. + +William Shakespeare diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-taming-of-the-shrew_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-taming-of-the-shrew_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..04976c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-taming-of-the-shrew_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4579 @@ +The Taming of the Shrew +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-taming-of-the-shrew/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +Characters in the Induction: + CHRISTOPHER SLY, a beggar + Hostess of an alehouse + A Lord + Huntsmen of the Lord + Page (disguised as a lady) + Players + Servingmen + Messenger +BAPTISTA MINOLA, father to Katherine and Bianca +KATHERINE, his elder daughter +BIANCA, his younger daughter +PETRUCHIO, suitor to Katherine +Suitors to Bianca: + GREMIO + HORTENSIO (later disguised as the teacher Litio) + LUCENTIO (later disguised as the teacher Cambio) +VINCENTIO, Lucentio's father +Servants to Lucentio: + TRANIO (later impersonating Lucentio) + BIONDELLO +A Merchant (later disguised as Vincentio) +Servants to Petruchio: + GRUMIO + CURTIS + NATHANIEL + PHILLIP + JOSEPH + NICHOLAS + PETER +Widow +Tailor +Haberdasher +Officer +Servants to Baptista and Petruchio + + +INDUCTION +========= + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Beggar (Christopher Sly) and Hostess.] + + +SLY I'll feeze you, in faith. + +HOSTESS A pair of stocks, you rogue! + +SLY You're a baggage! The Slys are no rogues. Look +in the chronicles. We came in with Richard Conqueror. +Therefore, paucas pallabris, let the world +slide. Sessa! + +HOSTESS You will not pay for the glasses you have +burst? + +SLY No, not a denier. Go, by Saint Jeronimy! Go to +thy cold bed and warm thee. [He lies down.] + +HOSTESS I know my remedy. I must go fetch the +headborough. [She exits.] + +SLY Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him +by law. I'll not budge an inch, boy. Let him come, +and kindly. [Falls asleep.] + +[Wind horns within. Enter a Lord from hunting, with +his train.] + + +LORD +Huntsman, I charge thee tender well my hounds. +Breathe Merriman (the poor cur is embossed) +And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthed brach. +Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good +At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault? +I would not lose the dog for twenty pound! + +FIRST HUNTSMAN +Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord. +He cried upon it at the merest loss, +And twice today picked out the dullest scent. +Trust me, I take him for the better dog. + +LORD +Thou art a fool. If Echo were as fleet, +I would esteem him worth a dozen such. +But sup them well, and look unto them all. +Tomorrow I intend to hunt again. + +FIRST HUNTSMAN I will, my lord. +[First Huntsman exits.] + +LORD, [noticing Sly] +What's here? One dead, or drunk? See doth he +breathe. + +SECOND HUNTSMAN +He breathes, my lord. Were he not warmed with ale, +This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. + +LORD +O monstrous beast, how like a swine he lies! +Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! +Sirs, I will practice on this drunken man. +What think you, if he were conveyed to bed, +Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his +fingers, +A most delicious banquet by his bed, +And brave attendants near him when he wakes, +Would not the beggar then forget himself? + +THIRD HUNTSMAN +Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. + +SECOND HUNTSMAN +It would seem strange unto him when he waked. + +LORD +Even as a flatt'ring dream or worthless fancy. +Then take him up, and manage well the jest. +Carry him gently to my fairest chamber, +And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; +Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters, +And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet; +Procure me music ready when he wakes +To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound. +And if he chance to speak, be ready straight +And, with a low, submissive reverence, +Say "What is it your Honor will command?" +Let one attend him with a silver basin +Full of rosewater and bestrewed with flowers, +Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, +And say "Will 't please your Lordship cool your +hands?" +Someone be ready with a costly suit, +And ask him what apparel he will wear. +Another tell him of his hounds and horse, +And that his lady mourns at his disease. +Persuade him that he hath been lunatic, +And when he says he is, say that he dreams, +For he is nothing but a mighty lord. +This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs. +It will be pastime passing excellent +If it be husbanded with modesty. + +THIRD HUNTSMAN +My lord, I warrant you we will play our part +As he shall think by our true diligence +He is no less than what we say he is. + +LORD +Take him up gently, and to bed with him, +And each one to his office when he wakes. +[Sly is carried out.] +[Sound trumpets within.] +Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds. +[Servingman exits.] +Belike some noble gentleman that means +(Traveling some journey) to repose him here. + +[Enter Servingman.] + +How now? Who is it? + +SERVINGMAN An 't please your Honor, players +That offer service to your Lordship. + +LORD +Bid them come near. + +[Enter Players.] + +Now, fellows, you are welcome. + +PLAYERS We thank your Honor. + +LORD +Do you intend to stay with me tonight? + +FIRST PLAYER +So please your Lordship to accept our duty. + +LORD +With all my heart. This fellow I remember +Since once he played a farmer's eldest son.-- +'Twas where you wooed the gentlewoman so well. +I have forgot your name, but sure that part +Was aptly fitted and naturally performed. + +SECOND PLAYER +I think 'twas Soto that your Honor means. + +LORD +'Tis very true. Thou didst it excellent. +Well, you are come to me in happy time, +The rather for I have some sport in hand +Wherein your cunning can assist me much. +There is a lord will hear you play tonight; +But I am doubtful of your modesties, +Lest, over-eying of his odd behavior +(For yet his Honor never heard a play), +You break into some merry passion, +And so offend him. For I tell you, sirs, +If you should smile, he grows impatient. + +FIRST PLAYER +Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves +Were he the veriest antic in the world. + +LORD, [to a Servingman] +Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery +And give them friendly welcome every one. +Let them want nothing that my house affords. +[One exits with the Players.] +Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew, my page, +And see him dressed in all suits like a lady. +That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, +And call him "Madam," do him obeisance. +Tell him from me, as he will win my love, +He bear himself with honorable action, +Such as he hath observed in noble ladies +Unto their lords, by them accomplished. +Such duty to the drunkard let him do +With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy, +And say "What is 't your Honor will command, +Wherein your lady and your humble wife +May show her duty and make known her love?" +And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses, +And with declining head into his bosom, +Bid him shed tears, as being overjoyed +To see her noble lord restored to health, +Who, for this seven years, hath esteemed him +No better than a poor and loathsome beggar. +And if the boy have not a woman's gift +To rain a shower of commanded tears, +An onion will do well for such a shift, +Which (in a napkin being close conveyed) +Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. +See this dispatched with all the haste thou canst. +Anon I'll give thee more instructions. +[A Servingman exits.] +I know the boy will well usurp the grace, +Voice, gait, and action of a gentlewoman. +I long to hear him call the drunkard "husband"! +And how my men will stay themselves from +laughter +When they do homage to this simple peasant, +I'll in to counsel them. Haply my presence +May well abate the over-merry spleen +Which otherwise would grow into extremes. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter aloft Christopher Sly, the drunkard, with +Attendants, some with apparel, basin and ewer, and +other appurtenances, and Lord dressed as an Attendant.] + + +SLY For God's sake, a pot of small ale. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Will 't please your Lord drink a cup of sack? + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +Will 't please your Honor taste of these conserves? + +THIRD SERVINGMAN +What raiment will your Honor wear today? + +SLY I am Christophero Sly! Call not me "Honor" nor +"Lordship." I ne'er drank sack in my life. An if you +give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef. +Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no +more doublets than backs, no more stockings than +legs, nor no more shoes than feet, nay sometime +more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look +through the over-leather. + +LORD, [as Attendant] +Heaven cease this idle humor in your Honor! +O, that a mighty man of such descent, +Of such possessions, and so high esteem +Should be infused with so foul a spirit! + +SLY What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher +Sly, old Sly's son of Burton Heath, by birth a +peddler, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation +a bearherd, and now by present profession a +tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat alewife of Wincot, +if she know me not! If she say I am not fourteen +pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the +lying'st knave in Christendom. What, I am not +bestraught! Here's-- + +THIRD SERVINGMAN +O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +O, this is it that makes your servants droop. + +LORD, [as Attendant] +Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house, +As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. +O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth, +Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment, +And banish hence these abject lowly dreams. +Look how thy servants do attend on thee, +Each in his office ready at thy beck. +Wilt thou have music? Hark, Apollo plays, [Music.] +And twenty caged nightingales do sing. +Or wilt thou sleep? We'll have thee to a couch +Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed +On purpose trimmed up for Semiramis. +Say thou wilt walk, we will bestrew the ground. +Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapped, +Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. +Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar +Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt? +Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them +And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Say thou wilt course. Thy greyhounds are as swift +As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight +Adonis painted by a running brook, +And Cytherea all in sedges hid, +Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, +Even as the waving sedges play with wind. + +LORD, [as Attendant] +We'll show thee Io as she was a maid +And how she was beguiled and surprised, +As lively painted as the deed was done. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN +Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood, +Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds, +And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, +So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. + +LORD, [as Attendant] +Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord; +Thou hast a lady far more beautiful +Than any woman in this waning age. + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +And till the tears that she hath shed for thee +Like envious floods o'errun her lovely face, +She was the fairest creature in the world-- +And yet she is inferior to none. + +SLY +Am I a lord, and have I such a lady? +Or do I dream? Or have I dreamed till now? +I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak, +I smell sweet savors, and I feel soft things. +Upon my life, I am a lord indeed +And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly. +Well, bring our lady hither to our sight, +And once again a pot o' the smallest ale. + +SECOND SERVINGMAN +Will 't please your Mightiness to wash your hands? +O, how we joy to see your wit restored! +O, that once more you knew but what you are! +These fifteen years you have been in a dream, +Or, when you waked, so waked as if you slept. + +SLY +These fifteen years! By my fay, a goodly nap. +But did I never speak of all that time? + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +Oh, yes, my lord, but very idle words. +For though you lay here in this goodly chamber, +Yet would you say you were beaten out of door, +And rail upon the hostess of the house, +And say you would present her at the leet +Because she brought stone jugs and no sealed +quarts. +Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. + +SLY Ay, the woman's maid of the house. + +THIRD SERVINGMAN +Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid, +Nor no such men as you have reckoned up, +As Stephen Sly and old John Naps of Greete, +And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell, +And twenty more such names and men as these, +Which never were, nor no man ever saw. + +SLY Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! + +ALL Amen. + +SLY I thank thee. Thou shalt not lose by it. + +[Enter Page as Lady, with Attendants.] + + +PAGE, [as Lady] How fares my noble lord? + +SLY Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough. +Where is my wife? + +PAGE, [as Lady] +Here, noble lord. What is thy will with her? + +SLY +Are you my wife, and will not call me "husband"? +My men should call me "lord." I am your goodman. + +PAGE, [as Lady] +My husband and my lord, my lord and husband, +I am your wife in all obedience. + +SLY +I know it well.--What must I call her? + +LORD, [as Attendant] "Madam." + +SLY "Alice Madam," or "Joan Madam"? + +LORD +"Madam," and nothing else. So lords call ladies. + +SLY +Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed +And slept above some fifteen year or more. + +PAGE, [as Lady] +Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, +Being all this time abandoned from your bed. + +SLY +'Tis much.--Servants, leave me and her alone.-- +Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. + +PAGE, [as Lady] +Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you +To pardon me yet for a night or two; +Or if not so, until the sun be set. +For your physicians have expressly charged, +In peril to incur your former malady, +That I should yet absent me from your bed. +I hope this reason stands for my excuse. + +SLY Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long; but +I would be loath to fall into my dreams again. I will +therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the +blood. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Your Honor's players, hearing your amendment, +Are come to play a pleasant comedy, +For so your doctors hold it very meet, +Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your +blood, +And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy. +Therefore they thought it good you hear a play +And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, +Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life. + +SLY Marry, I will. Let them play it. [Messenger exits.] +Is not a comonty a Christmas gambold or a tumbling +trick? + +PAGE, [as Lady] +No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff. + +SLY What, household stuff? + +PAGE, [as Lady] It is a kind of history. + +SLY Well, we'll see 't. Come, madam wife, sit by my +side, and let the world slip. We shall ne'er be +younger. +[They sit.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Lucentio and his man Tranio.] + + +LUCENTIO +Tranio, since for the great desire I had +To see fair Padua, nursery of arts, +I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy, +The pleasant garden of great Italy, +And by my father's love and leave am armed +With his goodwill and thy good company. +My trusty servant well approved in all, +Here let us breathe and haply institute +A course of learning and ingenious studies. +Pisa, renowned for grave citizens, +Gave me my being, and my father first, +A merchant of great traffic through the world, +Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii. +Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence, +It shall become to serve all hopes conceived +To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds. +And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study +Virtue, and that part of philosophy +Will I apply that treats of happiness +By virtue specially to be achieved. +Tell me thy mind, for I have Pisa left +And am to Padua come, as he that leaves +A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep +And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst. + +TRANIO +Mi perdonato, gentle master mine. +I am in all affected as yourself, +Glad that you thus continue your resolve +To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy. +Only, good master, while we do admire +This virtue and this moral discipline, +Let's be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray, +Or so devote to Aristotle's checks +As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured. +Balk logic with acquaintance that you have, +And practice rhetoric in your common talk; +Music and poesy use to quicken you; +The mathematics and the metaphysics-- +Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you. +No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en. +In brief, sir, study what you most affect. + +LUCENTIO +Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise. +If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore, +We could at once put us in readiness +And take a lodging fit to entertain +Such friends as time in Padua shall beget. + +[Enter Baptista with his two daughters, Katherine and +Bianca; Gremio, a pantaloon, and Hortensio, suitors +to Bianca.] + +But stay awhile! What company is this? + +TRANIO +Master, some show to welcome us to town. +[Lucentio and Tranio stand by.] + +BAPTISTA, [to Gremio and Hortensio] +Gentlemen, importune me no farther, +For how I firmly am resolved you know: +That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter +Before I have a husband for the elder. +If either of you both love Katherine, +Because I know you well and love you well, +Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure. + +GREMIO +To cart her, rather. She's too rough for me.-- +There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? + +KATHERINE, [to Baptista] +I pray you, sir, is it your will +To make a stale of me amongst these mates? + +HORTENSIO +"Mates," maid? How mean you that? No mates for +you, +Unless you were of gentler, milder mold. + +KATHERINE +I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear. +Iwis it is not halfway to her heart. +But if it were, doubt not her care should be +To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool +And paint your face and use you like a fool. + +HORTENSIO +From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! + +GREMIO And me too, good Lord. + +TRANIO, [aside to Lucentio] +Husht, master, here's some good pastime toward; +That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward. + +LUCENTIO, [aside to Tranio] +But in the other's silence do I see +Maid's mild behavior and sobriety. +Peace, Tranio. + +TRANIO, [aside to Lucentio] +Well said, master. Mum, and gaze your fill. + +BAPTISTA, [to Gremio and Hortensio] +Gentlemen, that I may soon make good +What I have said--Bianca, get you in, +And let it not displease thee, good Bianca, +For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl. + +KATHERINE +A pretty peat! It is best +Put finger in the eye, an she knew why. + +BIANCA +Sister, content you in my discontent.-- +Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe. +My books and instruments shall be my company, +On them to look and practice by myself. + +LUCENTIO, [aside to Tranio] +Hark, Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak! + +HORTENSIO +Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? +Sorry am I that our goodwill effects +Bianca's grief. + +GREMIO Why will you mew her up, +Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell, +And make her bear the penance of her tongue? + +BAPTISTA +Gentlemen, content you. I am resolved.-- +Go in, Bianca. [Bianca exits.] +And for I know she taketh most delight +In music, instruments, and poetry, +Schoolmasters will I keep within my house +Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio, +Or, Signior Gremio, you know any such, +Prefer them hither. For to cunning men +I will be very kind, and liberal +To mine own children in good bringing up. +And so, farewell.--Katherine, you may stay, +For I have more to commune with Bianca. [He exits.] + +KATHERINE +Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not? +What, shall I be appointed hours as though, belike, +I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha! +[She exits.] + +GREMIO You may go to the Devil's dam! Your gifts are +so good here's none will hold you.--Their love is +not so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails +together and fast it fairly out. Our cake's dough on +both sides. Farewell. Yet for the love I bear my +sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit +man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will +wish him to her father. + +HORTENSIO So will I, Signior Gremio. But a word, I +pray. Though the nature of our quarrel yet never +brooked parle, know now upon advice, it toucheth +us both (that we may yet again have access to our +fair mistress and be happy rivals in Bianca's love) to +labor and effect one thing specially. + +GREMIO What's that, I pray? + +HORTENSIO Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister. + +GREMIO A husband? A devil! + +HORTENSIO I say "a husband." + +GREMIO I say "a devil." Think'st thou, Hortensio, +though her father be very rich, any man is so very a +fool to be married to hell? + +HORTENSIO Tush, Gremio. Though it pass your patience +and mine to endure her loud alarums, why, +man, there be good fellows in the world, an a man +could light on them, would take her with all faults, +and money enough. + +GREMIO I cannot tell. But I had as lief take her dowry +with this condition: to be whipped at the high cross +every morning. + +HORTENSIO Faith, as you say, there's small choice in +rotten apples. But come, since this bar in law +makes us friends, it shall be so far forth friendly +maintained till by helping Baptista's eldest daughter +to a husband we set his youngest free for a +husband, and then have to 't afresh. Sweet Bianca! +Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the +ring. How say you, Signior Gremio? + +GREMIO I am agreed, and would I had given him the +best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would +thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid +the house of her. Come on. +[Gremio and Hortensio exit. +Tranio and Lucentio remain onstage.] + +TRANIO +I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible +That love should of a sudden take such hold? + +LUCENTIO +O Tranio, till I found it to be true, +I never thought it possible or likely. +But see, while idly I stood looking on, +I found the effect of love-in-idleness, +And now in plainness do confess to thee +That art to me as secret and as dear +As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was: +Tranio, I burn, I pine! I perish, Tranio, +If I achieve not this young modest girl. +Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst. +Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt. + +TRANIO +Master, it is no time to chide you now. +Affection is not rated from the heart. +If love have touched you, naught remains but so: +Redime te captum quam queas minimo. + +LUCENTIO +Gramercies, lad. Go forward. This contents; +The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound. + +TRANIO +Master, you looked so longly on the maid, +Perhaps you marked not what's the pith of all. + +LUCENTIO +O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face, +Such as the daughter of Agenor had, +That made great Jove to humble him to her hand +When with his knees he kissed the Cretan strand. + +TRANIO +Saw you no more? Marked you not how her sister +Began to scold and raise up such a storm +That mortal ears might hardly endure the din? + +LUCENTIO +Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move, +And with her breath she did perfume the air. +Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her. + +TRANIO, [aside] +Nay, then 'tis time to stir him from his trance.-- +I pray, awake, sir! If you love the maid, +Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it +stands: +Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd +That till the father rid his hands of her, +Master, your love must live a maid at home, +And therefore has he closely mewed her up, +Because she will not be annoyed with suitors. + +LUCENTIO +Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! +But art thou not advised he took some care +To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her? + +TRANIO +Ay, marry, am I, sir--and now 'tis plotted! + +LUCENTIO +I have it, Tranio! + +TRANIO Master, for my hand, +Both our inventions meet and jump in one. + +LUCENTIO +Tell me thine first. + +TRANIO You will be schoolmaster +And undertake the teaching of the maid: +That's your device. + +LUCENTIO It is. May it be done? + +TRANIO +Not possible. For who shall bear your part +And be in Padua here Vincentio's son, +Keep house, and ply his book, welcome his friends, +Visit his countrymen and banquet them? + +LUCENTIO +Basta, content thee, for I have it full. +We have not yet been seen in any house, +Nor can we be distinguished by our faces +For man or master. Then it follows thus: +Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead, +Keep house, and port, and servants, as I should. +I will some other be, some Florentine, +Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa. +'Tis hatched, and shall be so. Tranio, at once +Uncase thee. Take my colored hat and cloak. +[They exchange clothes.] +When Biondello comes, he waits on thee, +But I will charm him first to keep his tongue. + +TRANIO So had you need. +In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is, +And I am tied to be obedient +(For so your father charged me at our parting: +"Be serviceable to my son," quoth he, +Although I think 'twas in another sense), +I am content to be Lucentio, +Because so well I love Lucentio. + +LUCENTIO +Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves, +And let me be a slave, t' achieve that maid +Whose sudden sight hath thralled my wounded eye. + +[Enter Biondello.] + +Here comes the rogue.--Sirrah, where have you +been? + +BIONDELLO +Where have I been? Nay, how now, where are you? +Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes? +Or you stolen his? Or both? Pray, what's the news? + +LUCENTIO +Sirrah, come hither. 'Tis no time to jest, +And therefore frame your manners to the time. +Your fellow, Tranio here, to save my life, +Puts my apparel and my count'nance on, +And I for my escape have put on his; +For in a quarrel since I came ashore +I killed a man and fear I was descried. +Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes, +While I make way from hence to save my life. +You understand me? + +BIONDELLO Ay, sir. [Aside.] Ne'er a whit. + +LUCENTIO +And not a jot of "Tranio" in your mouth. +Tranio is changed into Lucentio. + +BIONDELLO +The better for him. Would I were so too. + +TRANIO +So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after, +That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest +daughter. +But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's, I +advise +You use your manners discreetly in all kind of +companies. +When I am alone, why then I am Tranio; +But in all places else, your master Lucentio. + +LUCENTIO Tranio, let's go. One thing more rests, that +thyself execute, to make one among these wooers. If +thou ask me why, sufficeth my reasons are both +good and weighty. [They exit.] +[The Presenters above speak.] + +FIRST SERVINGMAN +My lord, you nod. You do not mind the play. + +SLY Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely. +Comes there any more of it? + +PAGE, [as Lady] My lord, 'tis but begun. + +SLY 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. +Would 'twere done. +[They sit and mark.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Petruchio and his man Grumio.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Verona, for a while I take my leave +To see my friends in Padua, but of all +My best beloved and approved friend, +Hortensio. And I trow this is his house. +Here, sirrah Grumio, knock, I say. + +GRUMIO Knock, sir? Whom should I knock? Is there +any man has rebused your Worship? + +PETRUCHIO Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. + +GRUMIO Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, +that I should knock you here, sir? + +PETRUCHIO +Villain, I say, knock me at this gate +And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate. + +GRUMIO +My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock +you first, +And then I know after who comes by the worst. + +PETRUCHIO Will it not be? +Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it. +I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it. +[He wrings him by the ears. Grumio falls.] + +GRUMIO Help, mistress, help! My master is mad. + +PETRUCHIO Now knock when I bid you, sirrah +villain. + +[Enter Hortensio.] + + +HORTENSIO How now, what's the matter? My old +friend Grumio and my good friend Petruchio? How +do you all at Verona? + +PETRUCHIO +Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray? +Con tutto il cuore ben trovato, may I say. + +HORTENSIO Alia nostra casa ben venuto, molto +honorato signor mio Petruchio.--Rise, Grumio, +rise. We will compound this quarrel. [Grumio rises.] + +GRUMIO Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in +Latin. If this be not a lawful cause for me to leave +his service--look you, sir: he bid me knock him +and rap him soundly, sir. Well, was it fit for a +servant to use his master so, being perhaps, for +aught I see, two-and-thirty, a pip out? +Whom, would to God, I had well knocked at first, +Then had not Grumio come by the worst. + +PETRUCHIO +A senseless villain, good Hortensio. +I bade the rascal knock upon your gate +And could not get him for my heart to do it. + +GRUMIO Knock at the gate? O, heavens, spake you not +these words plain: "Sirrah, knock me here, rap me +here, knock me well, and knock me soundly"? And +come you now with "knocking at the gate"? + +PETRUCHIO +Sirrah, begone, or talk not, I advise you. + +HORTENSIO +Petruchio, patience. I am Grumio's pledge. +Why, this' a heavy chance 'twixt him and you, +Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio. +And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale +Blows you to Padua here from old Verona? + +PETRUCHIO +Such wind as scatters young men through the world +To seek their fortunes farther than at home, +Where small experience grows. But in a few, +Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me: +Antonio, my father, is deceased, +And I have thrust myself into this maze, +Happily to wive and thrive, as best I may. +Crowns in my purse I have and goods at home, +And so am come abroad to see the world. + +HORTENSIO +Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee +And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favored wife? +Thou 'dst thank me but a little for my counsel-- +And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich, +And very rich. But thou 'rt too much my friend, +And I'll not wish thee to her. + +PETRUCHIO +Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we +Few words suffice. And therefore, if thou know +One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife +(As wealth is burden of my wooing dance), +Be she as foul as was Florentius' love, +As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd +As Socrates' Xanthippe, or a worse, +She moves me not, or not removes at least +Affection's edge in me, were she as rough +As are the swelling Adriatic seas. +I come to wive it wealthily in Padua; +If wealthily, then happily in Padua. + +GRUMIO, [to Hortensio] Nay, look you, sir, he tells you +flatly what his mind is. Why, give him gold enough +and marry him to a puppet or an aglet-baby, or an +old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though she +have as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses. Why, +nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal. + +HORTENSIO +Petruchio, since we are stepped thus far in, +I will continue that I broached in jest. +I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife +With wealth enough, and young and beauteous, +Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman. +Her only fault, and that is faults enough, +Is that she is intolerable curst, +And shrewd, and froward, so beyond all measure +That, were my state far worser than it is, +I would not wed her for a mine of gold. + +PETRUCHIO +Hortensio, peace. Thou know'st not gold's effect. +Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough; +For I will board her, though she chide as loud +As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack. + +HORTENSIO +Her father is Baptista Minola, +An affable and courteous gentleman. +Her name is Katherina Minola, +Renowned in Padua for her scolding tongue. + +PETRUCHIO +I know her father, though I know not her, +And he knew my deceased father well. +I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her, +And therefore let me be thus bold with you +To give you over at this first encounter-- +Unless you will accompany me thither. + +GRUMIO, [to Hortensio] I pray you, sir, let him go while +the humor lasts. O' my word, an she knew him as +well as I do, she would think scolding would do little +good upon him. She may perhaps call him half a +score knaves or so. Why, that's nothing; an he begin +once, he'll rail in his rope tricks. I'll tell you what, +sir, an she stand him but a little, he will throw a +figure in her face and so disfigure her with it that +she shall have no more eyes to see withal than a cat. +You know him not, sir. + +HORTENSIO +Tarry, Petruchio. I must go with thee, +For in Baptista's keep my treasure is. +He hath the jewel of my life in hold, +His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca, +And her withholds from me and other more, +Suitors to her and rivals in my love, +Supposing it a thing impossible, +For those defects I have before rehearsed, +That ever Katherina will be wooed. +Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en, +That none shall have access unto Bianca +Till Katherine the curst have got a husband. + +GRUMIO "Katherine the curst," +A title for a maid, of all titles the worst. + +HORTENSIO +Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace +And offer me disguised in sober robes +To old Baptista as a schoolmaster +Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca, +That so I may, by this device at least, +Have leave and leisure to make love to her +And unsuspected court her by herself. + +GRUMIO Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old +folks, how the young folks lay their heads together! + +[Enter Gremio and Lucentio, disguised as Cambio, a +schoolmaster.] + +Master, master, look about you. Who goes there, ha? + +HORTENSIO +Peace, Grumio, it is the rival of my love. +Petruchio, stand by awhile. +[Petruchio, Hortensio, and Grumio stand aside.] + +GRUMIO, [aside] +A proper stripling, and an amorous. + +GREMIO, [to Lucentio] +O, very well, I have perused the note. +Hark you, sir, I'll have them very fairly bound, +All books of love. See that at any hand, +And see you read no other lectures to her. +You understand me. Over and beside +Signior Baptista's liberality, +I'll mend it with a largess. Take your paper too. +And let me have them very well perfumed, +For she is sweeter than perfume itself +To whom they go to. What will you read to her? + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you +As for my patron, stand you so assured, +As firmly as yourself were still in place, +Yea, and perhaps with more successful words +Than you--unless you were a scholar, sir. + +GREMIO +O this learning, what a thing it is! + +GRUMIO, [aside] +O this woodcock, what an ass it is! + +PETRUCHIO, [aside] Peace, sirrah. + +HORTENSIO, [aside] +Grumio, mum. [Coming forward.] +God save you, Signior Gremio. + +GREMIO +And you are well met, Signior Hortensio. +Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola. +I promised to enquire carefully +About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca, +And by good fortune I have lighted well +On this young man, for learning and behavior +Fit for her turn, well read in poetry +And other books--good ones, I warrant you. + +HORTENSIO +'Tis well. And I have met a gentleman +Hath promised me to help me to another, +A fine musician to instruct our mistress. +So shall I no whit be behind in duty +To fair Bianca, so beloved of me. + +GREMIO +Beloved of me, and that my deeds shall prove. + +GRUMIO, [aside] And that his bags shall prove. + +HORTENSIO +Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love. +Listen to me, and if you speak me fair +I'll tell you news indifferent good for either. +[Presenting Petruchio.] +Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met, +Upon agreement from us to his liking, +Will undertake to woo curst Katherine, +Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please. + +GREMIO So said, so done, is well. +Hortensio, have you told him all her faults? + +PETRUCHIO +I know she is an irksome, brawling scold. +If that be all, masters, I hear no harm. + +GREMIO +No? Sayst me so, friend? What countryman? + +PETRUCHIO +Born in Verona, old Antonio's son. +My father dead, my fortune lives for me, +And I do hope good days and long to see. + +GREMIO +Oh, sir, such a life with such a wife were strange. +But if you have a stomach, to 't, i' God's name! +You shall have me assisting you in all. +But will you woo this wildcat? + +PETRUCHIO Will I live? + +GRUMIO +Will he woo her? Ay, or I'll hang her. + +PETRUCHIO +Why came I hither but to that intent? +Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? +Have I not in my time heard lions roar? +Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds, +Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? +Have I not heard great ordnance in the field +And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? +Have I not in a pitched battle heard +Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clang? +And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, +That gives not half so great a blow to hear +As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire? +Tush, tush, fear boys with bugs! + +GRUMIO For he fears none. + +GREMIO Hortensio, hark. +This gentleman is happily arrived, +My mind presumes, for his own good and yours. + +HORTENSIO +I promised we would be contributors +And bear his charge of wooing whatsoe'er. + +GREMIO +And so we will, provided that he win her. + +GRUMIO +I would I were as sure of a good dinner. + +[Enter Tranio, disguised as Lucentio, and Biondello.] + + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Gentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold, +Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way +To the house of Signior Baptista Minola? + +BIONDELLO He that has the two fair daughters--is 't +he you mean? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Even he, Biondello. + +GREMIO +Hark you, sir, you mean not her to-- + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Perhaps him and her, sir. What have you to do? + +PETRUCHIO +Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let's away. + +LUCENTIO, [aside] +Well begun, Tranio. + +HORTENSIO Sir, a word ere you go. +Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +An if I be, sir, is it any offense? + +GREMIO +No, if without more words you will get you hence. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Why sir, I pray, are not the streets as free +For me, as for you? + +GREMIO But so is not she. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +For what reason, I beseech you? + +GREMIO +For this reason, if you'll know: +That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio. + +HORTENSIO +That she's the chosen of Signior Hortensio. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Softly, my masters. If you be gentlemen, +Do me this right: hear me with patience. +Baptista is a noble gentleman +To whom my father is not all unknown, +And were his daughter fairer than she is, +She may more suitors have, and me for one. +Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers. +Then well one more may fair Bianca have. +And so she shall. Lucentio shall make one, +Though Paris came in hope to speed alone. + +GREMIO +What, this gentleman will out-talk us all! + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Sir, give him head; I know he'll prove a jade. + +PETRUCHIO +Hortensio, to what end are all these words? + +HORTENSIO, [to Tranio] +Sir, let me be so bold as ask you, +Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +No, sir, but hear I do that he hath two, +The one as famous for a scolding tongue +As is the other for beauteous modesty. + +PETRUCHIO +Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by. + +GREMIO +Yea, leave that labor to great Hercules, +And let it be more than Alcides' twelve. + +PETRUCHIO, [to Tranio] +Sir, understand you this of me, in sooth: +The youngest daughter, whom you hearken for, +Her father keeps from all access of suitors +And will not promise her to any man +Until the elder sister first be wed. +The younger then is free, and not before. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +If it be so, sir, that you are the man +Must stead us all, and me amongst the rest, +And if you break the ice and do this feat, +Achieve the elder, set the younger free +For our access, whose hap shall be to have her +Will not so graceless be to be ingrate. + +HORTENSIO +Sir, you say well, and well you do conceive. +And since you do profess to be a suitor, +You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman, +To whom we all rest generally beholding. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Sir, I shall not be slack; in sign whereof, +Please you we may contrive this afternoon +And quaff carouses to our mistress' health, +And do as adversaries do in law, +Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. + +GRUMIO and BIONDELLO +O excellent motion! Fellows, let's be gone. + +HORTENSIO +The motion's good indeed, and be it so.-- +Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Katherine and Bianca with her hands tied.] + + +BIANCA +Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself, +To make a bondmaid and a slave of me. +That I disdain. But for these other goods-- +Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself, +Yea, all my raiment to my petticoat, +Or what you will command me will I do, +So well I know my duty to my elders. + +KATHERINE +Of all thy suitors here I charge thee tell +Whom thou lov'st best. See thou dissemble not. + +BIANCA +Believe me, sister, of all the men alive +I never yet beheld that special face +Which I could fancy more than any other. + +KATHERINE +Minion, thou liest. Is 't not Hortensio? + +BIANCA +If you affect him, sister, here I swear +I'll plead for you myself, but you shall have him. + +KATHERINE +O, then belike you fancy riches more. +You will have Gremio to keep you fair. + +BIANCA +Is it for him you do envy me so? +Nay, then, you jest, and now I well perceive +You have but jested with me all this while. +I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands. +[Katherine strikes her.] + +KATHERINE +If that be jest, then all the rest was so. + +[Enter Baptista.] + + +BAPTISTA +Why, how now, dame, whence grows this +insolence?-- +Bianca, stand aside.--Poor girl, she weeps! +[He unties her hands.] +[To Bianca.] Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her. +[To Katherine.] For shame, thou hilding of a devilish +spirit! +Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong +thee? +When did she cross thee with a bitter word? + +KATHERINE +Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged! +[She flies after Bianca.] + +BAPTISTA +What, in my sight?--Bianca, get thee in. +[Bianca exits.] + +KATHERINE +What, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see +She is your treasure, she must have a husband, +I must dance barefoot on her wedding day +And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell. +Talk not to me. I will go sit and weep +Till I can find occasion of revenge. [She exits.] + +BAPTISTA +Was ever gentleman thus grieved as I? +But who comes here? + +[Enter Gremio; Lucentio disguised as Cambio +in the habit of a mean man; Petruchio with +Hortensio disguised as Litio; and Tranio disguised +as Lucentio, with his boy, Biondello bearing a lute +and books.] + + +GREMIO Good morrow, neighbor Baptista. + +BAPTISTA Good morrow, neighbor Gremio.--God +save you, gentlemen. + +PETRUCHIO +And you, good sir. Pray, have you not a daughter +Called Katherina, fair and virtuous? + +BAPTISTA +I have a daughter, sir, called Katherina. + +GREMIO, [to Petruchio] +You are too blunt. Go to it orderly. + +PETRUCHIO +You wrong me, Signior Gremio. Give me leave.-- +I am a gentleman of Verona, sir, +That hearing of her beauty and her wit, +Her affability and bashful modesty, +Her wondrous qualities and mild behavior, +Am bold to show myself a forward guest +Within your house, to make mine eye the witness +Of that report which I so oft have heard, +And, for an entrance to my entertainment, +I do present you with a man of mine, +[Presenting Hortensio, disguised as Litio] +Cunning in music and the mathematics, +To instruct her fully in those sciences, +Whereof I know she is not ignorant. +Accept of him, or else you do me wrong. +His name is Litio, born in Mantua. + +BAPTISTA +You're welcome, sir, and he for your good sake. +But for my daughter Katherine, this I know, +She is not for your turn, the more my grief. + +PETRUCHIO +I see you do not mean to part with her, +Or else you like not of my company. + +BAPTISTA +Mistake me not. I speak but as I find. +Whence are you, sir? What may I call your name? + +PETRUCHIO +Petruchio is my name, Antonio's son, +A man well known throughout all Italy. + +BAPTISTA +I know him well. You are welcome for his sake. + +GREMIO +Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray +Let us that are poor petitioners speak too! +Bacare, you are marvelous forward. + +PETRUCHIO +O, pardon me, Signior Gremio, I would fain be +doing. + +GREMIO +I doubt it not, sir. But you will curse your wooing. +[To Baptista.] Neighbor, this is a gift very grateful, +I am sure of it. To express the like kindness, myself, +that have been more kindly beholding to you than +any, freely give unto you this young scholar [presenting +Lucentio, disguised as Cambio] that hath +been long studying at Rheims, as cunning in Greek, +Latin, and other languages as the other in music and +mathematics. His name is Cambio. Pray accept his +service. + +BAPTISTA A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio.--Welcome, +good Cambio. [To Tranio as Lucentio.] But, +gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger. May I +be so bold to know the cause of your coming? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own, +That being a stranger in this city here +Do make myself a suitor to your daughter, +Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous. +Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, +In the preferment of the eldest sister. +This liberty is all that I request, +That, upon knowledge of my parentage, +I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo +And free access and favor as the rest. +And toward the education of your daughters +I here bestow a simple instrument +And this small packet of Greek and Latin books. +[Biondello comes forward with the gifts.] +If you accept them, then their worth is great. + +BAPTISTA +Lucentio is your name. Of whence, I pray? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Of Pisa, sir, son to Vincentio. + +BAPTISTA +A mighty man of Pisa. By report +I know him well. You are very welcome, sir. +[To Hortensio as Litio.] Take you the lute, +[To Lucentio as Cambio.] and you the set of books. +You shall go see your pupils presently. +Holla, within! + +[Enter a Servant.] + +Sirrah, lead these gentlemen +To my daughters, and tell them both +These are their tutors. Bid them use them well. +[Servant exits with Hortensio and Lucentio.] +We will go walk a little in the orchard, +And then to dinner. You are passing welcome, +And so I pray you all to think yourselves. + +PETRUCHIO +Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste, +And every day I cannot come to woo. +You knew my father well, and in him me, +Left solely heir to all his lands and goods, +Which I have bettered rather than decreased. +Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love, +What dowry shall I have with her to wife? + +BAPTISTA +After my death, the one half of my lands, +And, in possession, twenty thousand crowns. + +PETRUCHIO +And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of +Her widowhood, be it that she survive me, +In all my lands and leases whatsoever. +Let specialties be therefore drawn between us, +That covenants may be kept on either hand. + +BAPTISTA +Ay, when the special thing is well obtained, +That is, her love, for that is all in all. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, that is nothing. For I tell you, father, +I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; +And where two raging fires meet together, +They do consume the thing that feeds their fury. +Though little fire grows great with little wind, +Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. +So I to her and so she yields to me, +For I am rough and woo not like a babe. + +BAPTISTA +Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed. +But be thou armed for some unhappy words. + +PETRUCHIO +Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, +That shakes not, though they blow perpetually. + +[Enter Hortensio as Litio with his head broke.] + + +BAPTISTA +How now, my friend, why dost thou look so pale? + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. + +BAPTISTA +What, will my daughter prove a good musician? + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +I think she'll sooner prove a soldier! +Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. + +BAPTISTA +Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute? + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Why, no, for she hath broke the lute to me. +I did but tell her she mistook her frets, +And bowed her hand to teach her fingering, +When, with a most impatient devilish spirit, +" 'Frets' call you these?" quoth she. "I'll fume with +them!" +And with that word she struck me on the head, +And through the instrument my pate made way, +And there I stood amazed for a while, +As on a pillory, looking through the lute, +While she did call me "rascal fiddler," +And "twangling Jack," with twenty such vile terms, +As had she studied to misuse me so. + +PETRUCHIO +Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench. +I love her ten times more than ere I did. +O, how I long to have some chat with her! + +BAPTISTA, [to Hortensio as Litio] +Well, go with me, and be not so discomfited. +Proceed in practice with my younger daughter. +She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns.-- +Signior Petruchio, will you go with us, +Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you? + +PETRUCHIO +I pray you do. I'll attend her here-- +[All but Petruchio exit.] +And woo her with some spirit when she comes! +Say that she rail, why then I'll tell her plain +She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. +Say that she frown, I'll say she looks as clear +As morning roses newly washed with dew. +Say she be mute and will not speak a word, +Then I'll commend her volubility +And say she uttereth piercing eloquence. +If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks +As though she bid me stay by her a week. +If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day +When I shall ask the banns, and when be married. +But here she comes--and now, Petruchio, speak. + +[Enter Katherine.] + +Good morrow, Kate, for that's your name, I hear. + +KATHERINE +Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing. +They call me Katherine that do talk of me. + +PETRUCHIO +You lie, in faith, for you are called plain Kate, +And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst. +But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom, +Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate +(For dainties are all Kates)--and therefore, Kate, +Take this of me, Kate of my consolation: +Hearing thy mildness praised in every town, +Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded +(Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs), +Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife. + +KATHERINE +"Moved," in good time! Let him that moved you +hither +Remove you hence. I knew you at the first +You were a movable. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, what's a movable? + +KATHERINE A joint stool. + +PETRUCHIO +Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me. + +KATHERINE +Asses are made to bear, and so are you. + +PETRUCHIO +Women are made to bear, and so are you. + +KATHERINE +No such jade as you, if me you mean. + +PETRUCHIO +Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee, +For knowing thee to be but young and light-- + +KATHERINE +Too light for such a swain as you to catch, +And yet as heavy as my weight should be. + +PETRUCHIO +"Should be"--should buzz! + +KATHERINE Well ta'en, and like a +buzzard. + +PETRUCHIO +O slow-winged turtle, shall a buzzard take thee? + +KATHERINE +Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard. + +PETRUCHIO +Come, come, you wasp! I' faith, you are too angry. + +KATHERINE +If I be waspish, best beware my sting. + +PETRUCHIO +My remedy is then to pluck it out. + +KATHERINE +Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. + +PETRUCHIO +Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? +In his tail. + +KATHERINE In his tongue. + +PETRUCHIO Whose tongue? + +KATHERINE +Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell. + +PETRUCHIO What, with my tongue in your tail? +Nay, come again, good Kate. I am a gentleman-- + +KATHERINE That I'll try. [She strikes him.] + +PETRUCHIO +I swear I'll cuff you if you strike again. + +KATHERINE So may you lose your arms. +If you strike me, you are no gentleman, +And if no gentleman, why then no arms. + +PETRUCHIO +A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books. + +KATHERINE What is your crest? A coxcomb? + +PETRUCHIO +A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen. + +KATHERINE +No cock of mine. You crow too like a craven. + +PETRUCHIO +Nay, come, Kate, come. You must not look so sour. + +KATHERINE +It is my fashion when I see a crab. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, here's no crab, and therefore look not sour. + +KATHERINE There is, there is. + +PETRUCHIO +Then show it me. + +KATHERINE Had I a glass, I would. + +PETRUCHIO What, you mean my face? + +KATHERINE Well aimed of such a young one. + +PETRUCHIO +Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you. + +KATHERINE +Yet you are withered. + +PETRUCHIO 'Tis with cares. + +KATHERINE I care not. + +PETRUCHIO +Nay, hear you, Kate--in sooth, you 'scape not so. + +KATHERINE +I chafe you if I tarry. Let me go. + +PETRUCHIO +No, not a whit. I find you passing gentle. +'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, +And now I find report a very liar. +For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing +courteous, +But slow in speech, yet sweet as springtime flowers. +Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance, +Nor bite the lip as angry wenches will, +Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk. +But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers, +With gentle conference, soft, and affable. +Why does the world report that Kate doth limp? +O sland'rous world! Kate like the hazel twig +Is straight, and slender, and as brown in hue +As hazelnuts, and sweeter than the kernels. +O, let me see thee walk! Thou dost not halt. + +KATHERINE +Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command. + +PETRUCHIO +Did ever Dian so become a grove +As Kate this chamber with her princely gait? +O, be thou Dian and let her be Kate, +And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful. + +KATHERINE +Where did you study all this goodly speech? + +PETRUCHIO +It is extempore, from my mother wit. + +KATHERINE +A witty mother, witless else her son. + +PETRUCHIO Am I not wise? + +KATHERINE Yes, keep you warm. + +PETRUCHIO +Marry, so I mean, sweet Katherine, in thy bed. +And therefore, setting all this chat aside, +Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented +That you shall be my wife, your dowry 'greed on, +And, will you, nill you, I will marry you. +Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn, +For by this light, whereby I see thy beauty, +Thy beauty that doth make me like thee well, +Thou must be married to no man but me. +For I am he am born to tame you, Kate, +And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate +Conformable as other household Kates. + +[Enter Baptista, Gremio, and Tranio as Lucentio.] + +Here comes your father. Never make denial. +I must and will have Katherine to my wife. + +BAPTISTA +Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my +daughter? + +PETRUCHIO How but well, sir? How but well? +It were impossible I should speed amiss. + +BAPTISTA +Why, how now, daughter Katherine? In your +dumps? + +KATHERINE +Call you me daughter? Now I promise you +You have showed a tender fatherly regard, +To wish me wed to one half lunatic, +A madcap ruffian and a swearing Jack, +That thinks with oaths to face the matter out. + +PETRUCHIO +Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world +That talked of her have talked amiss of her. +If she be curst, it is for policy, +For she's not froward, but modest as the dove; +She is not hot, but temperate as the morn. +For patience she will prove a second Grissel, +And Roman Lucrece for her chastity. +And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together +That upon Sunday is the wedding day. + +KATHERINE +I'll see thee hanged on Sunday first. + +GREMIO Hark, Petruchio, she says she'll see thee +hanged first. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Is this your speeding? Nay, +then, goodnight our part. + +PETRUCHIO +Be patient, gentlemen. I choose her for myself. +If she and I be pleased, what's that to you? +'Tis bargained 'twixt us twain, being alone, +That she shall still be curst in company. +I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe +How much she loves me. O, the kindest Kate! +She hung about my neck, and kiss on kiss +She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath, +That in a twink she won me to her love. +O, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see +How tame, when men and women are alone, +A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.-- +Give me thy hand, Kate. I will unto Venice +To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding day.-- +Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests. +I will be sure my Katherine shall be fine. + +BAPTISTA +I know not what to say, but give me your hands. +God send you joy, Petruchio. 'Tis a match. + +GREMIO and TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Amen, say we. We will be witnesses. + +PETRUCHIO +Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu. +I will to Venice. Sunday comes apace. +We will have rings, and things, and fine array, +And kiss me, Kate. We will be married o' Sunday. +[Petruchio and Katherine exit +through different doors.] + +GREMIO +Was ever match clapped up so suddenly? + +BAPTISTA +Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part +And venture madly on a desperate mart. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you. +'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas. + +BAPTISTA +The gain I seek, is quiet in the match. + +GREMIO +No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch. +But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter. +Now is the day we long have looked for. +I am your neighbor and was suitor first. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +And I am one that love Bianca more +Than words can witness or your thoughts can guess. + +GREMIO +Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Graybeard, thy love doth freeze. + +GREMIO But thine doth fry! +Skipper, stand back. 'Tis age that nourisheth. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth. + +BAPTISTA +Content you, gentlemen. I will compound this strife. +'Tis deeds must win the prize, and he of both +That can assure my daughter greatest dower +Shall have my Bianca's love. +Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her? + +GREMIO +First, as you know, my house within the city +Is richly furnished with plate and gold, +Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands; +My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry; +In ivory coffers I have stuffed my crowns, +In cypress chests my arras counterpoints, +Costly apparel, tents, and canopies, +Fine linen, Turkey cushions bossed with pearl, +Valance of Venice gold in needlework, +Pewter and brass, and all things that belongs +To house or housekeeping. Then, at my farm +I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail, +Six score fat oxen standing in my stalls, +And all things answerable to this portion. +Myself am struck in years, I must confess, +And if I die tomorrow this is hers, +If whilst I live she will be only mine. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +That "only" came well in. [To Baptista.] Sir, list to +me: +I am my father's heir and only son. +If I may have your daughter to my wife, +I'll leave her houses three or four as good, +Within rich Pisa walls, as any one +Old Signior Gremio has in Padua, +Besides two thousand ducats by the year +Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.-- +What, have I pinched you, Signior Gremio? + +GREMIO +Two thousand ducats by the year of land? +[Aside.] My land amounts not to so much in all.-- +That she shall have, besides an argosy +That now is lying in Marcellus' road. +[To Tranio.] What, have I choked you with an argosy? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less +Than three great argosies, besides two galliasses +And twelve tight galleys. These I will assure her, +And twice as much whate'er thou off'rest next. + +GREMIO +Nay, I have offered all. I have no more, +And she can have no more than all I have. +[To Baptista.] If you like me, she shall have me and +mine. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Why, then, the maid is mine from all the world, +By your firm promise. Gremio is outvied. + +BAPTISTA +I must confess your offer is the best, +And, let your father make her the assurance, +She is your own; else, you must pardon me. +If you should die before him, where's her dower? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +That's but a cavil. He is old, I young. + +GREMIO +And may not young men die as well as old? + +BAPTISTA +Well, gentlemen, I am thus resolved: +On Sunday next, you know +My daughter Katherine is to be married. +[To Tranio as Lucentio.] Now, on the Sunday +following, shall Bianca +Be bride to you, if you make this assurance. +If not, to Signior Gremio. +And so I take my leave, and thank you both. + +GREMIO +Adieu, good neighbor. [Baptista exits.] +Now I fear thee not. +Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool +To give thee all and in his waning age +Set foot under thy table. Tut, a toy! +An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy. +[Gremio exits.] + +TRANIO +A vengeance on your crafty withered hide!-- +Yet I have faced it with a card of ten. +'Tis in my head to do my master good. +I see no reason but supposed Lucentio +Must get a father, called "supposed Vincentio"-- +And that's a wonder. Fathers commonly +Do get their children. But in this case of wooing, +A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Lucentio as Cambio, Hortensio as Litio, and +Bianca.] + + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Fiddler, forbear. You grow too forward, sir. +Have you so soon forgot the entertainment +Her sister Katherine welcomed you withal? + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] But, wrangling pedant, this is +The patroness of heavenly harmony. +Then give me leave to have prerogative, +And when in music we have spent an hour, +Your lecture shall have leisure for as much. + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Preposterous ass, that never read so far +To know the cause why music was ordained. +Was it not to refresh the mind of man +After his studies or his usual pain? +Then give me leave to read philosophy, +And, while I pause, serve in your harmony. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine. + +BIANCA +Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong +To strive for that which resteth in my choice. +I am no breeching scholar in the schools. +I'll not be tied to hours, nor 'pointed times, +But learn my lessons as I please myself. +And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down. +[To Hortensio.] Take you your instrument, play you +the whiles; +His lecture will be done ere you have tuned. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune? + +LUCENTIO, [aside] +That will be never. [To Hortensio.] Tune your +instrument. [Hortensio steps aside to tune his lute.] + +BIANCA Where left we last? + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] Here, madam: +[Showing her a book.] +Hic ibat Simois, hic est Sigeia tellus, +Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis. + +BIANCA Conster them. + +LUCENTIO Hic ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am +Lucentio, hic est, son unto Vincentio of Pisa, +Sigeia tellus, disguised thus to get your love, Hic +steterat, and that "Lucentio" that comes a-wooing, +Priami, is my man Tranio, regia, bearing my port, +celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] Madam, my instrument's in +tune. + +BIANCA Let's hear. [He plays.] Oh fie, the treble jars! + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] Spit in the hole, man, and tune +again. [Hortensio tunes his lute again.] + +BIANCA Now let me see if I can conster it. Hic ibat +Simois, I know you not; hic est Sigeia tellus, I trust +you not; Hic steterat Priami, take heed he hear us +not; regia, presume not; celsa senis, despair not. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Madam, 'tis now in tune. [He plays again.] + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] All but the bass. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +The bass is right. 'Tis the base knave that jars. +[Aside.] How fiery and forward our pedant is. +Now for my life the knave doth court my love! +Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet. + +BIANCA, [to Lucentio] +In time I may believe, yet I mistrust. + +LUCENTIO +Mistrust it not, for sure Aeacides +Was Ajax, called so from his grandfather. + +BIANCA +I must believe my master; else, I promise you, +I should be arguing still upon that doubt. +But let it rest.--Now, Litio, to you. +Good master, take it not unkindly, pray, +That I have been thus pleasant with you both. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio, to Lucentio] +You may go walk, and give me leave awhile. +My lessons make no music in three parts. + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Are you so formal, sir? Well, I must wait +[Aside.] And watch withal, for, but I be deceived, +Our fine musician groweth amorous. +[He steps aside.] + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Madam, before you touch the instrument, +To learn the order of my fingering +I must begin with rudiments of art, +To teach you gamut in a briefer sort, +More pleasant, pithy, and effectual +Than hath been taught by any of my trade. +And there it is in writing fairly drawn. + +BIANCA +Why, I am past my gamut long ago. + +HORTENSIO +Yet read the gamut of Hortensio. +[Giving her a paper.] + +BIANCA [reads] +"Gamut I am, the ground of all accord: +A re, to plead Hortensio's passion; +B mi, Bianca, take him for thy lord, +C fa ut, that loves with all affection; +D sol re, one clef, two notes have I; +E la mi, show pity or I die." +Call you this "gamut"? Tut, I like it not. +Old fashions please me best. I am not so nice +To change true rules for odd inventions. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT +Mistress, your father prays you leave your books +And help to dress your sister's chamber up. +You know tomorrow is the wedding day. + +BIANCA +Farewell, sweet masters both. I must be gone. + +LUCENTIO +Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. +[Bianca, the Servant, and Lucentio exit.] + +HORTENSIO +But I have cause to pry into this pedant. +Methinks he looks as though he were in love. +Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble +To cast thy wand'ring eyes on every stale, +Seize thee that list! If once I find thee ranging, +Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Baptista, Gremio, Tranio as Lucentio, Katherine, +Bianca, Lucentio as Cambio, and others, Attendants.] + + +BAPTISTA, [to Tranio] +Signior Lucentio, this is the 'pointed day +That Katherine and Petruchio should be married, +And yet we hear not of our son-in-law. +What will be said? What mockery will it be, +To want the bridegroom when the priest attends +To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage? +What says Lucentio to this shame of ours? + +KATHERINE +No shame but mine. I must, forsooth, be forced +To give my hand, opposed against my heart, +Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen, +Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure. +I told you, I, he was a frantic fool, +Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior, +And, to be noted for a merry man, +He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage, +Make friends, invite, and proclaim the banns, +Yet never means to wed where he hath wooed. +Now must the world point at poor Katherine +And say "Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife, +If it would please him come and marry her." + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Patience, good Katherine, and Baptista too. +Upon my life, Petruchio means but well, +Whatever fortune stays him from his word. +Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise; +Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest. + +KATHERINE +Would Katherine had never seen him, though! +[She exits weeping.] + +BAPTISTA +Go, girl. I cannot blame thee now to weep, +For such an injury would vex a very saint, +Much more a shrew of thy impatient humor. + +[Enter Biondello.] + + +BIONDELLO Master, master, news! And such old +news as you never heard of! + +BAPTISTA +Is it new and old too? How may that be? + +BIONDELLO Why, is it not news to hear of Petruchio's +coming? + +BAPTISTA Is he come? + +BIONDELLO Why, no, sir. + +BAPTISTA +What then? + +BIONDELLO He is coming. + +BAPTISTA When will he be here? + +BIONDELLO +When he stands where I am, and sees you there. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] But say, what to thine old news? + +BIONDELLO Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and +an old jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, +a pair of boots that have been candle-cases, one +buckled, another laced; an old rusty sword ta'en +out of the town armory, with a broken hilt, and +chapeless; with two broken points; his horse +hipped, with an old mothy saddle and stirrups of no +kindred, besides possessed with the glanders and +like to mose in the chine, troubled with the lampass, +infected with the fashions, full of windgalls, +sped with spavins, rayed with the yellows, past cure +of the fives, stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn +with the bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten, +near-legged before, and with a half-checked +bit and a headstall of sheep's leather, +which, being restrained to keep him from stumbling, +hath been often burst, and now repaired with +knots; one girth six times pieced, and a woman's +crupper of velour, which hath two letters for her +name fairly set down in studs, and here and there +pieced with packthread. + +BAPTISTA Who comes with him? + +BIONDELLO Oh, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned +like the horse: with a linen stock on one leg +and a kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with +a red and blue list; an old hat, and the humor of +forty fancies pricked in 't for a feather. A monster, +a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian +footboy or a gentleman's lackey. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +'Tis some odd humor pricks him to this fashion, +Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-appareled. + +BAPTISTA +I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes. + +BIONDELLO Why, sir, he comes not. + +BAPTISTA Didst thou not say he comes? + +BIONDELLO Who? That Petruchio came? + +BAPTISTA Ay, that Petruchio came! + +BIONDELLO No, sir, I say his horse comes with him on +his back. + +BAPTISTA Why, that's all one. + +BIONDELLO + Nay, by Saint Jamy. + I hold you a penny, + A horse and a man + Is more than one, + And yet not many. + +[Enter Petruchio and Grumio.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Come, where be these gallants? Who's at home? + +BAPTISTA You are welcome, sir. + +PETRUCHIO And yet I come not well. + +BAPTISTA And yet you halt not. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Not so well appareled as I wish +you were. + +PETRUCHIO +Were it better I should rush in thus-- +But where is Kate? Where is my lovely bride? +How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown. +And wherefore gaze this goodly company +As if they saw some wondrous monument, +Some comet or unusual prodigy? + +BAPTISTA +Why, sir, you know this is your wedding day. +First were we sad, fearing you would not come, +Now sadder that you come so unprovided. +Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate, +An eyesore to our solemn festival. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +And tell us what occasion of import +Hath all so long detained you from your wife +And sent you hither so unlike yourself. + +PETRUCHIO +Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear. +Sufficeth I am come to keep my word, +Though in some part enforced to digress, +Which at more leisure I will so excuse +As you shall well be satisfied with all. +But where is Kate? I stay too long from her. +The morning wears. 'Tis time we were at church. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +See not your bride in these unreverent robes. +Go to my chamber, put on clothes of mine. + +PETRUCHIO +Not I, believe me. Thus I'll visit her. + +BAPTISTA +But thus, I trust, you will not marry her. + +PETRUCHIO +Good sooth, even thus. Therefore, ha' done with +words. +To me she's married, not unto my clothes. +Could I repair what she will wear in me, +As I can change these poor accoutrements, +'Twere well for Kate and better for myself. +But what a fool am I to chat with you +When I should bid good morrow to my bride +And seal the title with a lovely kiss! +[Petruchio exits, with Grumio.] + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +He hath some meaning in his mad attire. +We will persuade him, be it possible, +To put on better ere he go to church. + +BAPTISTA +I'll after him, and see the event of this. +[All except Tranio and Lucentio exit.] + +TRANIO +But, sir, to love concerneth us to add +Her father's liking, which to bring to pass, +As I before imparted to your Worship, +I am to get a man (whate'er he be +It skills not much, we'll fit him to our turn), +And he shall be "Vincentio of Pisa," +And make assurance here in Padua +Of greater sums than I have promised. +So shall you quietly enjoy your hope +And marry sweet Bianca with consent. + +LUCENTIO +Were it not that my fellow schoolmaster +Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly, +'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage, +Which, once performed, let all the world say no, +I'll keep mine own despite of all the world. + +TRANIO +That by degrees we mean to look into, +And watch our vantage in this business. +We'll overreach the graybeard, Gremio, +The narrow prying father, Minola, +The quaint musician, amorous Litio, +All for my master's sake, Lucentio. + +[Enter Gremio.] + + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Signior Gremio, came you from the church? + +GREMIO +As willingly as e'er I came from school. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +And is the bride and bridegroom coming home? + +GREMIO +A bridegroom, say you? 'Tis a groom indeed, +A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Curster than she? Why, 'tis impossible. + +GREMIO +Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. + +GREMIO +Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him. +I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest +Should ask if Katherine should be his wife, +"Ay, by gog's wouns!" quoth he, and swore so loud +That, all amazed, the priest let fall the book, +And as he stooped again to take it up, +This mad-brained bridegroom took him such a cuff +That down fell priest and book, and book and priest. +"Now, take them up," quoth he, "if any list." + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +What said the wench when he rose again? + +GREMIO +Trembled and shook, for why he stamped and swore +As if the vicar meant to cozen him. +But after many ceremonies done, +He calls for wine. "A health!" quoth he, as if +He had been aboard, carousing to his mates +After a storm; quaffed off the muscatel +And threw the sops all in the sexton's face, +Having no other reason +But that his beard grew thin and hungerly, +And seemed to ask him sops as he was drinking. +This done, he took the bride about the neck +And kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack +That at the parting all the church did echo. +And I, seeing this, came thence for very shame, +And after me I know the rout is coming. +Such a mad marriage never was before! [Music plays.] +Hark, hark, I hear the minstrels play. + +[Enter Petruchio, Katherine, Bianca, Hortensio, Baptista, +Grumio, and Attendants.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains. +I know you think to dine with me today +And have prepared great store of wedding cheer, +But so it is, my haste doth call me hence, +And therefore here I mean to take my leave. + +BAPTISTA +Is 't possible you will away tonight? + +PETRUCHIO +I must away today, before night come. +Make it no wonder. If you knew my business, +You would entreat me rather go than stay. +And, honest company, I thank you all, +That have beheld me give away myself +To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife. +Dine with my father, drink a health to me, +For I must hence, and farewell to you all. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Let us entreat you stay till after dinner. + +PETRUCHIO It may not be. + +GREMIO Let me entreat you. + +PETRUCHIO It cannot be. + +KATHERINE Let me entreat you. + +PETRUCHIO +I am content. + +KATHERINE Are you content to stay? + +PETRUCHIO +I am content you shall entreat me stay, +But yet not stay, entreat me how you can. + +KATHERINE +Now, if you love me, stay. + +PETRUCHIO Grumio, my horse. + +GRUMIO Ay, sir, they be ready; the oats have eaten the +horses. + +KATHERINE Nay, then, +Do what thou canst, I will not go today, +No, nor tomorrow, not till I please myself. +The door is open, sir. There lies your way. +You may be jogging whiles your boots are green. +For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself. +'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom, +That take it on you at the first so roundly. + +PETRUCHIO +O Kate, content thee. Prithee, be not angry. + +KATHERINE +I will be angry. What hast thou to do?-- +Father, be quiet. He shall stay my leisure. + +GREMIO +Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work. + +KATHERINE +Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner. +I see a woman may be made a fool +If she had not a spirit to resist. + +PETRUCHIO +They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.-- +Obey the bride, you that attend on her. +Go to the feast, revel and domineer, +Carouse full measure to her maidenhead, +Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves. +But for my bonny Kate, she must with me. +Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret; +I will be master of what is mine own. +She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, +My household stuff, my field, my barn, +My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything. +And here she stands, touch her whoever dare. +I'll bring mine action on the proudest he +That stops my way in Padua.--Grumio, +Draw forth thy weapon. We are beset with thieves. +Rescue thy mistress if thou be a man!-- +Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, +Kate. +I'll buckler thee against a million. +[Petruchio and Katherine exit, with Grumio.] + +BAPTISTA +Nay, let them go. A couple of quiet ones! + +GREMIO +Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Of all mad matches never was the like. + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister? + +BIANCA +That being mad herself, she's madly mated. + +GREMIO +I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated. + +BAPTISTA +Neighbors and friends, though bride and +bridegroom wants +For to supply the places at the table, +You know there wants no junkets at the feast. +[To Tranio.] Lucentio, you shall supply the +bridegroom's place, +And let Bianca take her sister's room. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Shall sweet Bianca practice how to bride it? + +BAPTISTA, [to Tranio] +She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Grumio.] + + +GRUMIO Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, +and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? Was +ever man so 'rayed? Was ever man so weary? I am +sent before to make a fire, and they are coming +after to warm them. Now were not I a little pot and +soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my +tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my +belly, ere I should come by a fire to thaw me. But I +with blowing the fire shall warm myself. For, considering +the weather, a taller man than I will take +cold.--Holla, ho, Curtis! + +[Enter Curtis.] + + +CURTIS Who is that calls so coldly? + +GRUMIO A piece of ice. If thou doubt it, thou mayst +slide from my shoulder to my heel with no greater +a run but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis! + +CURTIS Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio? + +GRUMIO Oh, ay, Curtis, ay, and therefore fire, fire! Cast +on no water. + +CURTIS Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported? + +GRUMIO She was, good Curtis, before this frost. But +thou know'st winter tames man, woman, and +beast, for it hath tamed my old master and my new +mistress and myself, fellow Curtis. + +CURTIS Away, you three-inch fool, I am no beast! + +GRUMIO Am I but three inches? Why, thy horn is a +foot, and so long am I, at the least. But wilt thou +make a fire? Or shall I complain on thee to our +mistress, whose hand (she being now at hand) thou +shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in +thy hot office? + +CURTIS I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the +world? + +GRUMIO A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine, +and therefore fire! Do thy duty, and have thy duty, +for my master and mistress are almost frozen to +death. + +CURTIS There's fire ready. And therefore, good Grumio, +the news! + +GRUMIO Why, "Jack boy, ho boy!" and as much news +as wilt thou. + +CURTIS Come, you are so full of cony-catching. + +GRUMIO Why, therefore fire, for I have caught extreme +cold. Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house +trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept, the servingmen +in their new fustian, their white stockings, +and every officer his wedding garment on? Be +the Jacks fair within, the Jills fair without, the +carpets laid, and everything in order? + +CURTIS All ready. And therefore, I pray thee, news. + +GRUMIO First, know my horse is tired, my master and +mistress fallen out. + +CURTIS How? + +GRUMIO Out of their saddles into the dirt, and thereby +hangs a tale. + +CURTIS Let's ha' t, good Grumio. + +GRUMIO Lend thine ear. + +CURTIS Here. + +GRUMIO There! [He slaps Curtis on the ear.] + +CURTIS This 'tis to feel a tale, not to hear a tale. + +GRUMIO And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale. And +this cuff was but to knock at your ear and beseech +list'ning. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a +foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress-- + +CURTIS Both of one horse? + +GRUMIO What's that to thee? + +CURTIS Why, a horse. + +GRUMIO Tell thou the tale! But hadst thou not crossed +me, thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell, +and she under her horse; thou shouldst have heard +in how miry a place, how she was bemoiled, how he +left her with the horse upon her, how he beat me +because her horse stumbled, how she waded +through the dirt to pluck him off me, how he swore, +how she prayed that never prayed before, how I +cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was +burst, how I lost my crupper, with many things of +worthy memory which now shall die in oblivion, +and thou return unexperienced to thy grave. + +CURTIS By this reck'ning, he is more shrew than she. + +GRUMIO Ay, and that thou and the proudest of you all +shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of +this? Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Phillip, +Walter, Sugarsop, and the rest. Let their heads +be slickly combed, their blue coats brushed, and +their garters of an indifferent knit. Let them curtsy +with their left legs, and not presume to touch a hair +of my master's horse-tail till they kiss their hands. +Are they all ready? + +CURTIS They are. + +GRUMIO Call them forth. + +CURTIS, [calling out] Do you hear, ho? You must meet +my master to countenance my mistress. + +GRUMIO Why, she hath a face of her own. + +CURTIS Who knows not that? + +GRUMIO Thou, it seems, that calls for company to +countenance her. + +CURTIS I call them forth to credit her. + +GRUMIO Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them. + +[Enter four or five Servingmen.] + + +NATHANIEL Welcome home, Grumio. + +PHILLIP How now, Grumio? + +JOSEPH What, Grumio! + +NICHOLAS Fellow Grumio! + +NATHANIEL How now, old lad? + +GRUMIO Welcome, you!--How now, you?--What, +you!--Fellow, you!--And thus much for greeting. +Now, my spruce companions, is all ready and all +things neat? + +NATHANIEL All things is ready. How near is our +master? + +GRUMIO E'en at hand, alighted by this. And therefore +be not--Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master. + +[Enter Petruchio and Katherine.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Where be these knaves? What, no man at door +To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse? +Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Phillip? + +ALL THE SERVANTS Here! Here, sir, here, sir! + +PETRUCHIO +"Here, sir! Here, sir! Here, sir! Here, sir!" +You loggerheaded and unpolished grooms. +What? No attendance? No regard? No duty? +Where is the foolish knave I sent before? + +GRUMIO +Here, sir, as foolish as I was before. + +PETRUCHIO +You peasant swain, you whoreson malt-horse +drudge! +Did I not bid thee meet me in the park +And bring along these rascal knaves with thee? + +GRUMIO +Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made, +And Gabriel's pumps were all unpinked i' th' heel. +There was no link to color Peter's hat, +And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing. +There were none fine but Adam, Rafe, and Gregory. +The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly. +Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you. + +PETRUCHIO +Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in! +[The Servants exit.] +[Sings.] Where is the life that late I led? + Where are those-- +Sit down, Kate, and welcome. +[They sit at a table.] +Soud, soud, soud, soud! + +[Enter Servants with supper.] + +Why, when, I say?--Nay, good sweet Kate, be +merry.-- +Off with my boots, you rogues, you villains! When? +[Sings.] It was the friar of orders gray, + As he forth walked on his way-- + +[Servant begins to remove Petruchio's boots.] + +Out, you rogue! You pluck my foot awry. +Take that! [He hits the Servant.] +And mend the plucking of the other.-- +Be merry, Kate.--Some water here! What ho! + +[Enter one with water.] + +Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence +And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither. +[A Servant exits.] +One, Kate, that you must kiss and be acquainted +with.-- +Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?-- +Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.-- +You whoreson villain, will you let it fall? +[He hits the Servant.] + +KATHERINE +Patience, I pray you, 'twas a fault unwilling. + +PETRUCHIO +A whoreson beetle-headed flap-eared knave!-- +Come, Kate, sit down. I know you have a stomach. +Will you give thanks, sweet Kate, or else shall I?-- +What's this? Mutton? + +FIRST SERVANT Ay. + +PETRUCHIO Who brought it? + +PETER I. + +PETRUCHIO 'Tis burnt, and so is all the meat. +What dogs are these? Where is the rascal cook? +How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser +And serve it thus to me that love it not? +There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all! +[He throws the food and dishes at them.] +You heedless joltheads and unmannered slaves! +What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight. +[The Servants exit.] + +KATHERINE +I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet. +The meat was well, if you were so contented. + +PETRUCHIO +I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away, +And I expressly am forbid to touch it, +For it engenders choler, planteth anger, +And better 'twere that both of us did fast +(Since of ourselves, ourselves are choleric) +Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. +Be patient. Tomorrow 't shall be mended, +And for this night we'll fast for company. +Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Servants severally.] + + +NATHANIEL Peter, didst ever see the like? + +PETER He kills her in her own humor. + +[Enter Curtis.] + + +GRUMIO Where is he? + +CURTIS In her chamber, +Making a sermon of continency to her, +And rails and swears and rates, that she (poor soul) +Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak, +And sits as one new-risen from a dream. +Away, away, for he is coming hither! +[The Servants exit.] + +[Enter Petruchio.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Thus have I politicly begun my reign, +And 'tis my hope to end successfully. +My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, +And, till she stoop, she must not be full-gorged, +For then she never looks upon her lure. +Another way I have to man my haggard, +To make her come and know her keeper's call. +That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites +That bate and beat and will not be obedient. +She ate no meat today, nor none shall eat. +Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not. +As with the meat, some undeserved fault +I'll find about the making of the bed, +And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster, +This way the coverlet, another way the sheets. +Ay, and amid this hurly I intend +That all is done in reverend care of her. +And, in conclusion, she shall watch all night, +And, if she chance to nod, I'll rail and brawl, +And with the clamor keep her still awake. +This is a way to kill a wife with kindness. +And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. +He that knows better how to tame a shrew, +Now let him speak; 'tis charity to shew. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Tranio as Lucentio and Hortensio as Litio.] + + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Is 't possible, friend Litio, that mistress Bianca +Doth fancy any other but Lucentio? +I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand. + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said, +Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. +[They stand aside.] + +[Enter Bianca and Lucentio as Cambio.] + + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +Now mistress, profit you in what you read? + +BIANCA +What, master, read you? First resolve me that. + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +I read that I profess, The Art to Love. + +BIANCA +And may you prove, sir, master of your art. + +LUCENTIO, [as Cambio] +While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart. +[They move aside and kiss and talk.] + +HORTENSIO, [as Litio] +Quick proceeders, marry! Now tell me, I pray, +You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca +Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +O despiteful love, unconstant womankind! +I tell thee, Litio, this is wonderful! + +HORTENSIO +Mistake no more. I am not Litio, +Nor a musician as I seem to be, +But one that scorn to live in this disguise +For such a one as leaves a gentleman +And makes a god of such a cullion. +Know, sir, that I am called Hortensio. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Signior Hortensio, I have often heard +Of your entire affection to Bianca, +And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness, +I will with you, if you be so contented, +Forswear Bianca and her love forever. + +HORTENSIO +See how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio, +Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow +Never to woo her more, but do forswear her +As one unworthy all the former favors +That I have fondly flattered her withal. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +And here I take the like unfeigned oath, +Never to marry with her, though she would entreat. +Fie on her, see how beastly she doth court him! + +HORTENSIO +Would all the world but he had quite forsworn! +For me, that I may surely keep mine oath, +I will be married to a wealthy widow +Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me +As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard. +And so farewell, Signior Lucentio. +Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, +Shall win my love, and so I take my leave, +In resolution as I swore before. +[Hortensio exits;] +[Bianca and Lucentio come forward.] + +TRANIO +Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace +As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case! +Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love, +And have forsworn you with Hortensio. + +BIANCA +Tranio, you jest. But have you both forsworn me? + +TRANIO +Mistress, we have. + +LUCENTIO Then we are rid of Litio. + +TRANIO +I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now +That shall be wooed and wedded in a day. + +BIANCA God give him joy. + +TRANIO +Ay, and he'll tame her. + +BIANCA He says so, Tranio? + +TRANIO +Faith, he is gone unto the taming school. + +BIANCA +The taming school? What, is there such a place? + +TRANIO +Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master, +That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long +To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue. + +[Enter Biondello.] + + +BIONDELLO +O master, master, I have watched so long +That I am dog-weary, but at last I spied +An ancient angel coming down the hill +Will serve the turn. + +TRANIO What is he, Biondello? + +BIONDELLO +Master, a marcantant, or a pedant, +I know not what, but formal in apparel, +In gait and countenance surely like a father. + +LUCENTIO And what of him, Tranio? + +TRANIO +If he be credulous, and trust my tale, +I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio +And give assurance to Baptista Minola +As if he were the right Vincentio. +Take in your love, and then let me alone. +[Lucentio and Bianca exit.] + +[Enter a Merchant.] + + +MERCHANT +God save you, sir. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] And you, sir. You are welcome. +Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest? + +MERCHANT +Sir, at the farthest for a week or two, +But then up farther, and as far as Rome, +And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +What countryman, I pray? + +MERCHANT Of Mantua. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Of Mantua, sir? Marry, God forbid! +And come to Padua, careless of your life? + +MERCHANT +My life, sir? How, I pray? For that goes hard. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +'Tis death for anyone in Mantua +To come to Padua. Know you not the cause? +Your ships are stayed at Venice, and the Duke, +For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him, +Hath published and proclaimed it openly. +'Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come, +You might have heard it else proclaimed about. + +MERCHANT +Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so, +For I have bills for money by exchange +From Florence, and must here deliver them. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Well, sir, to do you courtesy, +This will I do, and this I will advise you. +First tell me, have you ever been at Pisa? + +MERCHANT +Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been, +Pisa renowned for grave citizens. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Among them know you one Vincentio? + +MERCHANT +I know him not, but I have heard of him: +A merchant of incomparable wealth. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +He is my father, sir, and sooth to say, +In count'nance somewhat doth resemble you. + +BIONDELLO, [aside] As much as an apple doth an +oyster, and all one. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +To save your life in this extremity, +This favor will I do you for his sake +(And think it not the worst of all your fortunes +That you are like to Sir Vincentio): +His name and credit shall you undertake, +And in my house you shall be friendly lodged. +Look that you take upon you as you should. +You understand me, sir. So shall you stay +Till you have done your business in the city. +If this be court'sy, sir, accept of it. + +MERCHANT +O sir, I do, and will repute you ever +The patron of my life and liberty. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Then go with me, to make the matter good. +This, by the way, I let you understand: +My father is here looked for every day +To pass assurance of a dower in marriage +'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here. +In all these circumstances I'll instruct you. +Go with me to clothe you as becomes you. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Katherine and Grumio.] + + +GRUMIO +No, no, forsooth, I dare not for my life. + +KATHERINE +The more my wrong, the more his spite appears. +What, did he marry me to famish me? +Beggars that come unto my father's door +Upon entreaty have a present alms. +If not, elsewhere they meet with charity. +But I, who never knew how to entreat, +Nor never needed that I should entreat, +Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep, +With oaths kept waking and with brawling fed. +And that which spites me more than all these wants, +He does it under name of perfect love, +As who should say, if I should sleep or eat +'Twere deadly sickness or else present death. +I prithee, go, and get me some repast, +I care not what, so it be wholesome food. + +GRUMIO What say you to a neat's foot? + +KATHERINE +'Tis passing good. I prithee let me have it. + +GRUMIO +I fear it is too choleric a meat. +How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled? + +KATHERINE +I like it well. Good Grumio, fetch it me. + +GRUMIO +I cannot tell. I fear 'tis choleric. +What say you to a piece of beef and mustard? + +KATHERINE +A dish that I do love to feed upon. + +GRUMIO +Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little. + +KATHERINE +Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest. + +GRUMIO +Nay then, I will not. You shall have the mustard +Or else you get no beef of Grumio. + +KATHERINE +Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. + +GRUMIO +Why then, the mustard without the beef. + +KATHERINE +Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, +[She beats him.] +That feed'st me with the very name of meat. +Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you +That triumph thus upon my misery. +Go, get thee gone, I say. + +[Enter Petruchio and Hortensio with meat.] + + +PETRUCHIO +How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort? + +HORTENSIO +Mistress, what cheer? + +KATHERINE Faith, as cold as can be. + +PETRUCHIO +Pluck up thy spirits. Look cheerfully upon me. +Here, love, thou seest how diligent I am, +To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee. +I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks. +What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov'st it not, +And all my pains is sorted to no proof. +Here, take away this dish. + +KATHERINE I pray you, let it stand. + +PETRUCHIO +The poorest service is repaid with thanks, +And so shall mine before you touch the meat. + +KATHERINE I thank you, sir. + +HORTENSIO +Signior Petruchio, fie, you are to blame. +Come, Mistress Kate, I'll bear you company. + +PETRUCHIO, [aside to Hortensio] +Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.-- +Much good do it unto thy gentle heart. +Kate, eat apace. +[Katherine and Hortensio prepare to eat.] +And now, my honey love, +Will we return unto thy father's house +And revel it as bravely as the best, +With silken coats and caps and golden rings, +With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things, +With scarves and fans and double change of brav'ry, +With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry. +What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure +To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure. + +[Enter Tailor.] + +Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments. +Lay forth the gown. + +[Enter Haberdasher.] + +What news with you, sir? + +HABERDASHER +Here is the cap your Worship did bespeak. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, this was molded on a porringer! +A velvet dish! Fie, fie, 'tis lewd and filthy. +Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut shell, +A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap. +Away with it! Come, let me have a bigger. + +KATHERINE +I'll have no bigger. This doth fit the time, +And gentlewomen wear such caps as these. + +PETRUCHIO +When you are gentle, you shall have one too, +And not till then. + +HORTENSIO, [aside] That will not be in haste. + +KATHERINE +Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak, +And speak I will. I am no child, no babe. +Your betters have endured me say my mind, +And if you cannot, best you stop your ears. +My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, +Or else my heart, concealing it, will break, +And, rather than it shall, I will be free +Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, thou sayst true. It is a paltry cap, +A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie. +I love thee well in that thou lik'st it not. + +KATHERINE +Love me, or love me not, I like the cap, +And it I will have, or I will have none. +[Exit Haberdasher.] + +PETRUCHIO +Thy gown? Why, ay. Come, tailor, let us see 't. +O mercy God, what masking-stuff is here? +What's this? A sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon. +What, up and down carved like an apple tart? +Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash, +Like to a censer in a barber's shop. +Why, what a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this? + +HORTENSIO, [aside] +I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown. + +TAILOR +You bid me make it orderly and well, +According to the fashion and the time. + +PETRUCHIO +Marry, and did. But if you be remembered, +I did not bid you mar it to the time. +Go, hop me over every kennel home, +For you shall hop without my custom, sir. +I'll none of it. Hence, make your best of it. + +KATHERINE +I never saw a better-fashioned gown, +More quaint, more pleasing, nor more +commendable. +Belike you mean to make a puppet of me. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, true, he means to make a puppet of thee. + +TAILOR +She says your Worship means to make a puppet of +her. + +PETRUCHIO +O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, +thou thimble, +Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail! +Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket, thou! +Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread? +Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant, +Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard +As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st. +I tell thee, I, that thou hast marred her gown. + +TAILOR +Your Worship is deceived. The gown is made +Just as my master had direction. +Grumio gave order how it should be done. + +GRUMIO I gave him no order. I gave him the stuff. + +TAILOR +But how did you desire it should be made? + +GRUMIO Marry, sir, with needle and thread. + +TAILOR +But did you not request to have it cut? + +GRUMIO Thou hast faced many things. + +TAILOR I have. + +GRUMIO Face not me. Thou hast braved many men; +brave not me. I will neither be faced nor braved. I +say unto thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown, +but I did not bid him cut it to pieces. Ergo, thou +liest. + +TAILOR Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify. +[He shows a paper.] + +PETRUCHIO Read it. + +GRUMIO The note lies in 's throat, if he say I said so. + +TAILOR [reads] "Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown--" + +GRUMIO Master, if ever I said "loose-bodied gown," +sew me in the skirts of it and beat me to death with +a bottom of brown thread. I said "a gown." + +PETRUCHIO Proceed. + +TAILOR [reads] "With a small-compassed cape--" + +GRUMIO I confess the cape. + +TAILOR [reads] "With a trunk sleeve--" + +GRUMIO I confess two sleeves. + +TAILOR [reads] "The sleeves curiously cut." + +PETRUCHIO Ay, there's the villainy. + +GRUMIO Error i' th' bill, sir, error i' th' bill! I commanded +the sleeves should be cut out and sewed +up again, and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy +little finger be armed in a thimble. + +TAILOR This is true that I say. An I had thee in place +where, thou shouldst know it. + +GRUMIO I am for thee straight. Take thou the bill, give +me thy mete-yard, and spare not me. + +HORTENSIO God-a-mercy, Grumio, then he shall have +no odds. + +PETRUCHIO +Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me. + +GRUMIO You are i' th' right, sir, 'tis for my mistress. + +PETRUCHIO +Go, take it up unto thy master's use. + +GRUMIO Villain, not for thy life! Take up my mistress' +gown for thy master's use! + +PETRUCHIO Why, sir, what's your conceit in that? + +GRUMIO O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think +for. Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use! +O, fie, fie, fie! + +PETRUCHIO, [aside to Hortensio] +Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid. +[To Tailor.] Go, take it hence. Begone, and say no +more. + +HORTENSIO, [aside to Tailor] +Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow. +Take no unkindness of his hasty words. +Away, I say. Commend me to thy master. +[Tailor exits.] + +PETRUCHIO +Well, come, my Kate, we will unto your father's, +Even in these honest mean habiliments. +Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor, +For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich, +And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, +So honor peereth in the meanest habit. +What, is the jay more precious than the lark +Because his feathers are more beautiful? +Or is the adder better than the eel +Because his painted skin contents the eye? +O no, good Kate. Neither art thou the worse +For this poor furniture and mean array. +If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me, +And therefore frolic! We will hence forthwith +To feast and sport us at thy father's house. +[To Grumio.] Go, call my men, and let us straight to +him, +And bring our horses unto Long-lane end. +There will we mount, and thither walk on foot. +Let's see, I think 'tis now some seven o'clock, +And well we may come there by dinner time. + +KATHERINE +I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two, +And 'twill be supper time ere you come there. + +PETRUCHIO +It shall be seven ere I go to horse. +Look what I speak, or do, or think to do, +You are still crossing it.--Sirs, let 't alone. +I will not go today, and, ere I do, +It shall be what o'clock I say it is. + +HORTENSIO, [aside] +Why, so, this gallant will command the sun! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Tranio as Lucentio, and the Merchant, booted, +and dressed like Vincentio.] + + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Sir, this is the house. Please it you that I call? + +MERCHANT +Ay, what else? And but I be deceived, +Signior Baptista may remember me, +Near twenty years ago, in Genoa, +Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +'Tis well. And hold your own in any case +With such austerity as 'longeth to a father. + +MERCHANT +I warrant you. + +[Enter Biondello.] + +But, sir, here comes your boy. +'Twere good he were schooled. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Fear you not him.--Sirrah Biondello, +Now do your duty throughly, I advise you. +Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio. + +BIONDELLO Tut, fear not me. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista? + +BIONDELLO +I told him that your father was at Venice, +And that you looked for him this day in Padua. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Thou 'rt a tall fellow. Hold thee that to drink. +[He gives him money.] + +[Enter Baptista and Lucentio as Cambio.] + +Here comes Baptista. Set your countenance, sir. +[Merchant stands bareheaded.] + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Signior Baptista, you are happily met.-- +Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of. +I pray you stand good father to me now. +Give me Bianca for my patrimony. + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Soft, son.-- +Sir, by your leave, having come to Padua +To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio +Made me acquainted with a weighty cause +Of love between your daughter and himself. +And, for the good report I hear of you, +And for the love he beareth to your daughter +And she to him, to stay him not too long, +I am content, in a good father's care, +To have him matched. And if you please to like +No worse than I, upon some agreement +Me shall you find ready and willing +With one consent to have her so bestowed, +For curious I cannot be with you, +Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well. + +BAPTISTA +Sir, pardon me in what I have to say. +Your plainness and your shortness please me well. +Right true it is your son Lucentio here +Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him, +Or both dissemble deeply their affections. +And therefore, if you say no more than this, +That like a father you will deal with him +And pass my daughter a sufficient dower, +The match is made, and all is done. +Your son shall have my daughter with consent. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best +We be affied and such assurance ta'en +As shall with either part's agreement stand? + +BAPTISTA +Not in my house, Lucentio, for you know +Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants. +Besides, old Gremio is heark'ning still, +And happily we might be interrupted. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Then at my lodging, an it like you. +There doth my father lie, and there this night +We'll pass the business privately and well. +Send for your daughter by your servant here. +[He indicates Lucentio, and winks at him.] +My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently. +The worst is this: that at so slender warning +You are like to have a thin and slender pittance. + +BAPTISTA +It likes me well.--Cambio, hie you home, +And bid Bianca make her ready straight. +And, if you will, tell what hath happened: +Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua, +And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife. +[Lucentio exits.] + +BIONDELLO +I pray the gods she may, with all my heart. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] +Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.-- +Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way? +Welcome! One mess is like to be your cheer. +Come, sir, we will better it in Pisa. + +BAPTISTA I follow you. +[All but Biondello exit.] + +[Enter Lucentio.] + + +BIONDELLO Cambio. + +LUCENTIO What sayst thou, Biondello? + +BIONDELLO You saw my master wink and laugh upon +you? + +LUCENTIO Biondello, what of that? + +BIONDELLO Faith, nothing; but 'has left me here behind +to expound the meaning or moral of his signs +and tokens. + +LUCENTIO I pray thee, moralize them. + +BIONDELLO Then thus: Baptista is safe, talking with +the deceiving father of a deceitful son. + +LUCENTIO And what of him? + +BIONDELLO His daughter is to be brought by you to the +supper. + +LUCENTIO And then? + +BIONDELLO The old priest at Saint Luke's Church is at +your command at all hours. + +LUCENTIO And what of all this? + +BIONDELLO I cannot tell, except they are busied +about a counterfeit assurance. Take you assurance +of her cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum. To th' +church take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient +honest witnesses. +If this be not that you look for, I have no more to +say, +But bid Bianca farewell forever and a day. + +LUCENTIO Hear'st thou, Biondello? + +BIONDELLO I cannot tarry. I knew a wench married in +an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley +to stuff a rabbit, and so may you, sir. And so adieu, +sir. My master hath appointed me to go to Saint +Luke's to bid the priest be ready to come against +you come with your appendix. [He exits.] + +LUCENTIO +I may, and will, if she be so contented. +She will be pleased. Then wherefore should I +doubt? +Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her. +It shall go hard if "Cambio" go without her. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Petruchio, Katherine, Hortensio, and Servants.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Come on, i' God's name, once more toward our +father's. +Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon! + +KATHERINE +The moon? The sun! It is not moonlight now. + +PETRUCHIO +I say it is the moon that shines so bright. + +KATHERINE +I know it is the sun that shines so bright. + +PETRUCHIO +Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself, +It shall be moon, or star, or what I list, +Or e'er I journey to your father's house. +[To Servants.] Go on, and fetch our horses back +again.-- +Evermore crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed! + +HORTENSIO, [to Katherine] +Say as he says, or we shall never go. + +KATHERINE +Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, +And be it moon, or sun, or what you please. +And if you please to call it a rush candle, +Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me. + +PETRUCHIO I say it is the moon. + +KATHERINE I know it is the moon. + +PETRUCHIO +Nay, then you lie. It is the blessed sun. + +KATHERINE +Then God be blest, it is the blessed sun. +But sun it is not, when you say it is not, +And the moon changes even as your mind. +What you will have it named, even that it is, +And so it shall be so for Katherine. + +HORTENSIO +Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won. + +PETRUCHIO +Well, forward, forward. Thus the bowl should run, +And not unluckily against the bias. +But soft! Company is coming here. + +[Enter Vincentio.] + +[To Vincentio.] Good morrow, gentle mistress, where +away?-- +Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly, too, +Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? +Such war of white and red within her cheeks! +What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty +As those two eyes become that heavenly face?-- +Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.-- +Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake. + +HORTENSIO, [aside] +He will make the man mad, to make the woman of +him. + +KATHERINE +Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet, +Whither away, or where is thy abode? +Happy the parents of so fair a child! +Happier the man whom favorable stars +Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, how now, Kate? I hope thou art not mad! +This is a man--old, wrinkled, faded, withered-- +And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is. + +KATHERINE +Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes +That have been so bedazzled with the sun +That everything I look on seemeth green. +Now I perceive thou art a reverend father. +Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking. + +PETRUCHIO +Do, good old grandsire, and withal make known +Which way thou travelest. If along with us, +We shall be joyful of thy company. + +VINCENTIO +Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress, +That with your strange encounter much amazed me, +My name is called Vincentio, my dwelling Pisa, +And bound I am to Padua, there to visit +A son of mine which long I have not seen. + +PETRUCHIO +What is his name? + +VINCENTIO Lucentio, gentle sir. + +PETRUCHIO +Happily met, the happier for thy son. +And now by law as well as reverend age, +I may entitle thee my loving father. +The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman, +Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not, +Nor be not grieved. She is of good esteem, +Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth; +Beside, so qualified as may beseem +The spouse of any noble gentleman. +Let me embrace with old Vincentio, +And wander we to see thy honest son, +Who will of thy arrival be full joyous. + +VINCENTIO +But is this true, or is it else your pleasure, +Like pleasant travelers, to break a jest +Upon the company you overtake? + +HORTENSIO +I do assure thee, father, so it is. + +PETRUCHIO +Come, go along and see the truth hereof, +For our first merriment hath made thee jealous. +[All but Hortensio exit.] + +HORTENSIO +Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart! +Have to my widow, and if she be froward, +Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Biondello, Lucentio as himself, and Bianca. +Gremio is out before and stands to the side.] + + +BIONDELLO Softly and swiftly, sir, for the priest is +ready. + +LUCENTIO I fly, Biondello. But they may chance to +need thee at home. Therefore leave us. +[Lucentio exits with Bianca.] + +BIONDELLO Nay, faith, I'll see the church a' your back, +and then come back to my master's as soon as I +can. [He exits.] + +GREMIO I marvel Cambio comes not all this while. + +[Enter Petruchio, Katherine, Vincentio, Grumio, with +Attendants.] + + +PETRUCHIO +Sir, here's the door. This is Lucentio's house. +My father's bears more toward the marketplace. +Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir. + +VINCENTIO +You shall not choose but drink before you go. +I think I shall command your welcome here, +And by all likelihood some cheer is toward. +[He knocks.] + +GREMIO, [coming forward] +They're busy within. You were best knock louder. +[Merchant looks out of the window.] + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] What's he that knocks as +he would beat down the gate? + +VINCENTIO Is Signior Lucentio within, sir? + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] He's within, sir, but not to +be spoken withal. + +VINCENTIO What if a man bring him a hundred pound +or two to make merry withal? + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Keep your hundred +pounds to yourself. He shall need none so long as I +live. + +PETRUCHIO, [to Vincentio] Nay, I told you your son was +well beloved in Padua.--Do you hear, sir? To leave +frivolous circumstances, I pray you tell Signior +Lucentio that his father is come from Pisa and is +here at the door to speak with him. + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Thou liest. His father is +come from Padua and here looking out at the +window. + +VINCENTIO Art thou his father? + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Ay, sir, so his mother says, +if I may believe her. + +PETRUCHIO, [to Vincentio] Why, how now, gentleman! +Why, this is flat knavery, to take upon you another +man's name. + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Lay hands on the villain. I +believe he means to cosen somebody in this city +under my countenance. + +[Enter Biondello.] + + +BIONDELLO, [aside] I have seen them in the church +together. God send 'em good shipping! But who is +here? Mine old master Vincentio! Now we are +undone and brought to nothing. + +VINCENTIO, [to Biondello] Come hither, crack-hemp. + +BIONDELLO I hope I may choose, sir. + +VINCENTIO Come hither, you rogue! What, have you +forgot me? + +BIONDELLO Forgot you? No, sir. I could not forget you, +for I never saw you before in all my life. + +VINCENTIO What, you notorious villain, didst thou +never see thy master's father, Vincentio? + +BIONDELLO What, my old worshipful old master? Yes, +marry, sir. See where he looks out of the window. + +VINCENTIO Is 't so indeed? [He beats Biondello.] + +BIONDELLO Help, help, help! Here's a madman will +murder me. [Biondello exits.] + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Help, son! Help, Signior +Baptista! [He exits from window.] + +PETRUCHIO Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the +end of this controversy. [They move aside.] + +[Enter Merchant with Servants, and Baptista and +Tranio disguised as Lucentio.] + + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Sir, what are you that offer to +beat my servant? + +VINCENTIO What am I, sir? Nay, what are you, sir! O +immortal gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet, a +velvet hose, a scarlet cloak, and a copatain hat! O, I +am undone, I am undone! While I play the good +husband at home, my son and my servant spend all +at the university. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] How now, what's the matter? + +BAPTISTA What, is the man lunatic? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Sir, you seem a sober ancient +gentleman by your habit, but your words show you +a madman. Why, sir, what 'cerns it you if I wear +pearl and gold? I thank my good father, I am able +to maintain it. + +VINCENTIO Thy father! O villain, he is a sailmaker in +Bergamo. + +BAPTISTA You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir! Pray, what +do you think is his name? + +VINCENTIO His name? As if I knew not his name! I have +brought him up ever since he was three years old, +and his name is Tranio. + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Away, away, mad ass! His +name is Lucentio and he is mine only son, and heir +to the lands of me, Signior Vincentio. + +VINCENTIO Lucentio? O, he hath murdered his master! +Lay hold on him, I charge you in the Duke's name. +O, my son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is +my son Lucentio? + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Call forth an officer. + +[Enter an Officer.] + +Carry this mad knave to the jail.--Father Baptista, I +charge you see that he be forthcoming. + +VINCENTIO Carry me to the jail? + +GREMIO Stay, officer. He shall not go to prison. + +BAPTISTA Talk not, Signior Gremio. I say he shall go to +prison. + +GREMIO Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched +in this business. I dare swear this is the +right Vincentio. + +MERCHANT, [as Vincentio] Swear, if thou dar'st. + +GREMIO Nay, I dare not swear it. + +TRANIO, [as Lucentio] Then thou wert best say that I +am not Lucentio. + +GREMIO Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio. + +BAPTISTA Away with the dotard, to the jail with him. + +VINCENTIO Thus strangers may be haled and abused.-- +O monstrous villain! + +[Enter Biondello, Lucentio and Bianca.] + + +BIONDELLO O, we are spoiled, and yonder he is! Deny +him, forswear him, or else we are all undone. +[Biondello, Tranio, and Merchant +exit as fast as may be.] + +LUCENTIO +Pardon, sweet father. [Lucentio and Bianca kneel.] + +VINCENTIO Lives my sweet son? + +BIANCA +Pardon, dear father. + +BAPTISTA How hast thou offended? +Where is Lucentio? + +LUCENTIO Here's Lucentio, +Right son to the right Vincentio, +That have by marriage made thy daughter mine +While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne. + +GREMIO +Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all! + +VINCENTIO +Where is that damned villain, Tranio, +That faced and braved me in this matter so? + +BAPTISTA +Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio? + +BIANCA +Cambio is changed into Lucentio. + +LUCENTIO +Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love +Made me exchange my state with Tranio, +While he did bear my countenance in the town, +And happily I have arrived at the last +Unto the wished haven of my bliss. +What Tranio did, myself enforced him to. +Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake. + +VINCENTIO I'll slit the villain's nose that would have +sent me to the jail! + +BAPTISTA But do you hear, sir, have you married my +daughter without asking my goodwill? + +VINCENTIO Fear not, Baptista, we will content you. Go +to! But I will in to be revenged for this villainy. +[He exits.] + +BAPTISTA And I to sound the depth of this knavery. +[He exits.] + +LUCENTIO Look not pale, Bianca. Thy father will not +frown. [They exit.] + +GREMIO +My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest, +Out of hope of all but my share of the feast. +[He exits.] + +KATHERINE Husband, let's follow to see the end of +this ado. + +PETRUCHIO First kiss me, Kate, and we will. + +KATHERINE What, in the midst of the street? + +PETRUCHIO What, art thou ashamed of me? + +KATHERINE No, sir, God forbid, but ashamed to kiss. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, then, let's home again. [To Grumio.] Come, +sirrah, let's away. + +KATHERINE +Nay, I will give thee a kiss. [She kisses him.] +Now pray thee, love, stay. + +PETRUCHIO +Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate. +Better once than never, for never too late. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Baptista, Vincentio, Gremio, the Merchant, +Lucentio, and Bianca; Hortensio and the Widow, +Petruchio and Katherine; Tranio, Biondello, and +Grumio, with Servingmen bringing in a banquet.] + + +LUCENTIO +At last, though long, our jarring notes agree, +And time it is when raging war is done +To smile at 'scapes and perils overblown. +My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome, +While I with selfsame kindness welcome thine. +Brother Petruchio, sister Katherina, +And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow, +Feast with the best, and welcome to my house. +My banquet is to close our stomachs up +After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down, +For now we sit to chat as well as eat. [They sit.] + +PETRUCHIO +Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat! + +BAPTISTA +Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio. + +PETRUCHIO +Padua affords nothing but what is kind. + +HORTENSIO +For both our sakes I would that word were true. + +PETRUCHIO +Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow! + +WIDOW +Then never trust me if I be afeard. + +PETRUCHIO +You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense: +I mean Hortensio is afeard of you. + +WIDOW +He that is giddy thinks the world turns round. + +PETRUCHIO +Roundly replied. + +KATHERINE Mistress, how mean you that? + +WIDOW Thus I conceive by him. + +PETRUCHIO +Conceives by me? How likes Hortensio that? + +HORTENSIO +My widow says, thus she conceives her tale. + +PETRUCHIO +Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow. + +KATHERINE +"He that is giddy thinks the world turns round"-- +I pray you tell me what you meant by that. + +WIDOW +Your husband being troubled with a shrew +Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe. +And now you know my meaning. + +KATHERINE +A very mean meaning. + +WIDOW Right, I mean you. + +KATHERINE +And I am mean indeed, respecting you. + +PETRUCHIO To her, Kate! + +HORTENSIO To her, widow! + +PETRUCHIO +A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down. + +HORTENSIO That's my office. + +PETRUCHIO +Spoke like an officer! Ha' to thee, lad. +[He drinks to Hortensio.] + +BAPTISTA +How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? + +GREMIO +Believe me, sir, they butt together well. + +BIANCA +Head and butt! An hasty-witted body +Would say your head and butt were head and horn. + +VINCENTIO +Ay, mistress bride, hath that awakened you? + +BIANCA +Ay, but not frighted me. Therefore I'll sleep again. + +PETRUCHIO +Nay, that you shall not. Since you have begun, +Have at you for a bitter jest or two. + +BIANCA +Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush, +And then pursue me as you draw your bow.-- +You are welcome all. [Bianca, Katherine, and the Widow exit.] + +PETRUCHIO +She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio, +This bird you aimed at, though you hit her not.-- +Therefore a health to all that shot and missed. + +TRANIO +O, sir, Lucentio slipped me like his greyhound, +Which runs himself and catches for his master. + +PETRUCHIO +A good swift simile, but something currish. + +TRANIO +'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself. +'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay. + +BAPTISTA +O, O, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now. + +LUCENTIO +I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. + +HORTENSIO +Confess, confess! Hath he not hit you here? + +PETRUCHIO +He has a little galled me, I confess. +And as the jest did glance away from me, +'Tis ten to one it maimed you two outright. + +BAPTISTA +Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio, +I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all. + +PETRUCHIO +Well, I say no. And therefore, for assurance, +Let's each one send unto his wife, +And he whose wife is most obedient +To come at first when he doth send for her +Shall win the wager which we will propose. + +HORTENSIO +Content, what's the wager? + +LUCENTIO Twenty crowns. + +PETRUCHIO Twenty crowns? +I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound, +But twenty times so much upon my wife. + +LUCENTIO +A hundred, then. + +HORTENSIO Content. + +PETRUCHIO A match! 'Tis done. + +HORTENSIO Who shall begin? + +LUCENTIO That will I. +Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me. + +BIONDELLO I go. [He exits.] + +BAPTISTA +Son, I'll be your half Bianca comes. + +LUCENTIO +I'll have no halves. I'll bear it all myself. +[Enter Biondello.] + +How now, what news? + +BIONDELLO Sir, my mistress sends you +word +That she is busy, and she cannot come. + +PETRUCHIO +How? "She's busy, and she cannot come"? +Is that an answer? + +GREMIO Ay, and a kind one, too. +Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse. + +PETRUCHIO I hope better. + +HORTENSIO +Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife +To come to me forthwith. [Biondello exits.] + +PETRUCHIO O ho, entreat her! +Nay, then, she must needs come. + +HORTENSIO I am afraid, sir, +Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. + +[Enter Biondello.] + +Now, where's my wife? + +BIONDELLO +She says you have some goodly jest in hand. +She will not come. She bids you come to her. + +PETRUCHIO Worse and worse. She will not come! +O vile, intolerable, not to be endured!-- +Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress, +Say I command her come to me. [Grumio exits.] + +HORTENSIO +I know her answer. + +PETRUCHIO What? + +HORTENSIO She will not. + +PETRUCHIO +The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. + +[Enter Katherine.] + + +BAPTISTA +Now by my holidam, here comes Katherina! + +KATHERINE +What is your will, sir, that you send for me? + +PETRUCHIO +Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? + +KATHERINE +They sit conferring by the parlor fire. + +PETRUCHIO +Go fetch them hither. If they deny to come, +Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands. +Away, I say, and bring them hither straight. +[Katherine exits.] + +LUCENTIO +Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. + +HORTENSIO +And so it is. I wonder what it bodes. + +PETRUCHIO +Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, +An awful rule, and right supremacy, +And, to be short, what not that's sweet and happy. + +BAPTISTA +Now fair befall thee, good Petruchio! +The wager thou hast won, and I will add +Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns, +Another dowry to another daughter, +For she is changed as she had never been. + +PETRUCHIO +Nay, I will win my wager better yet, +And show more sign of her obedience, +Her new-built virtue and obedience. + +[Enter Katherine, Bianca, and Widow.] + +See where she comes, and brings your froward +wives +As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.-- +Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not. +Off with that bauble, throw it underfoot. +[She obeys.] + +WIDOW +Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh +Till I be brought to such a silly pass. + +BIANCA +Fie, what a foolish duty call you this? + +LUCENTIO +I would your duty were as foolish too. +The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, +Hath cost me a hundred crowns since suppertime. + +BIANCA +The more fool you for laying on my duty. + +PETRUCHIO +Katherine, I charge thee tell these headstrong +women +What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. + +WIDOW +Come, come, you're mocking. We will have no +telling. + +PETRUCHIO +Come on, I say, and first begin with her. + +WIDOW She shall not. + +PETRUCHIO +I say she shall.--And first begin with her. + +KATHERINE +Fie, fie! Unknit that threat'ning unkind brow, +And dart not scornful glances from those eyes +To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor. +It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, +Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, +And in no sense is meet or amiable. +A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, +Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty, +And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty +Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. +Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, +Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee, +And for thy maintenance commits his body +To painful labor both by sea and land, +To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, +Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, +And craves no other tribute at thy hands +But love, fair looks, and true obedience-- +Too little payment for so great a debt. +Such duty as the subject owes the prince, +Even such a woman oweth to her husband; +And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour, +And not obedient to his honest will, +What is she but a foul contending rebel +And graceless traitor to her loving lord? +I am ashamed that women are so simple +To offer war where they should kneel for peace, +Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway +When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. +Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth, +Unapt to toil and trouble in the world, +But that our soft conditions and our hearts +Should well agree with our external parts? +Come, come, you froward and unable worms! +My mind hath been as big as one of yours, +My heart as great, my reason haply more, +To bandy word for word and frown for frown; +But now I see our lances are but straws, +Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare, +That seeming to be most which we indeed least are. +Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot, +And place your hands below your husband's foot; +In token of which duty, if he please, +My hand is ready, may it do him ease. + +PETRUCHIO +Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate. +[They kiss.] + +LUCENTIO +Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha 't. + +VINCENTIO +'Tis a good hearing when children are toward. + +LUCENTIO +But a harsh hearing when women are froward. + +PETRUCHIO Come, Kate, we'll to bed. +We three are married, but you two are sped. +[To Lucentio.] 'Twas I won the wager, though you +hit the white, +And being a winner, God give you good night. +[Petruchio and Katherine exit.] + +HORTENSIO +Now, go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrow. + +LUCENTIO +'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-tempest_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-tempest_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d081dde --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-tempest_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3466 @@ +The Tempest +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-tempest/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +PROSPERO, the former duke of Milan, now a magician on a Mediterranean island +MIRANDA, Prospero's daughter +ARIEL, a spirit, servant to Prospero +CALIBAN, an inhabitant of the island, servant to Prospero +FERDINAND, prince of Naples +ALONSO, king of Naples +ANTONIO, duke of Milan and Prospero's brother +SEBASTIAN, Alonso's brother +GONZALO, councillor to Alonso and friend to Prospero +Courtiers in attendance on Alonso: + ADRIAN + FRANCISCO +TRINCULO, servant to Alonso +STEPHANO, Alonso's butler +SHIPMASTER +BOATSWAIN +MARINERS +Players who, as spirits, take the roles of Iris, Ceres, Juno, Nymphs, and Reapers in Prospero's masque, and who, in other scenes, take the roles of "islanders" and of hunting dogs + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. +Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.] + + +MASTER Boatswain! + +BOATSWAIN Here, master. What cheer? + +MASTER Good, speak to th' mariners. Fall to 't yarely, +or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir! +[He exits.] + +[Enter Mariners.] + + +BOATSWAIN Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my +hearts! Yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th' +Master's whistle.--Blow till thou burst thy wind, if +room enough! + +[Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, +and others.] + + +ALONSO Good boatswain, have care. Where's the Master? +Play the men. + +BOATSWAIN I pray now, keep below. + +ANTONIO Where is the Master, boatswain? + +BOATSWAIN Do you not hear him? You mar our labor. +Keep your cabins. You do assist the storm. + +GONZALO Nay, good, be patient. + +BOATSWAIN When the sea is. Hence! What cares these +roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence! +Trouble us not. + +GONZALO Good, yet remember whom thou hast +aboard. + +BOATSWAIN None that I more love than myself. You are +a councillor; if you can command these elements +to silence, and work the peace of the present, we +will not hand a rope more. Use your authority. If +you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and +make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance +of the hour, if it so hap.--Cheerly, good +hearts!--Out of our way, I say! [He exits.] + +GONZALO I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks +he hath no drowning mark upon him. His +complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good +Fate, to his hanging. Make the rope of his destiny +our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be +not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. +[He exits with Alonso, Sebastian, +and the other courtiers.] + +[Enter Boatswain.] + + +BOATSWAIN Down with the topmast! Yare! Lower, lower! +Bring her to try wi' th' main course. [(A cry +within.)] A plague upon this howling! They are +louder than the weather or our office. + +[Enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.] + +Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give o'er and +drown? Have you a mind to sink? + +SEBASTIAN A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, +incharitable dog! + +BOATSWAIN Work you, then. + +ANTONIO Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson, insolent +noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than +thou art. + +GONZALO I'll warrant him for drowning, though the +ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky +as an unstanched wench. + +BOATSWAIN Lay her ahold, ahold! Set her two courses. +Off to sea again! Lay her off! + +[Enter more Mariners, wet.] + + +MARINERS All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost! +[Mariners exit.] + +BOATSWAIN What, must our mouths be cold? + +GONZALO The King and Prince at prayers. Let's assist +them, for our case is as theirs. + +SEBASTIAN I am out of patience. + +ANTONIO We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. +This wide-chopped rascal--would thou +mightst lie drowning the washing of ten tides! +[Boatswain exits.] + +GONZALO He'll be hanged yet, though every drop of +water swear against it and gape at wid'st to glut him. + + +[A confused noise within:] "Mercy on us!"--"We split, we +split!"--"Farewell, my wife and children!"-- +"Farewell, brother!"--"We split, we split, we +split!" + + +ANTONIO Let's all sink wi' th' King. + +SEBASTIAN Let's take leave of him. +[He exits with Antonio.] + +GONZALO Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea +for an acre of barren ground: long heath, brown +furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I +would fain die a dry death. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Prospero and Miranda.] + + +MIRANDA +If by your art, my dearest father, you have +Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. +The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, +But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek, +Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered +With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel, +Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, +Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock +Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished. +Had I been any god of power, I would +Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere +It should the good ship so have swallowed, and +The fraughting souls within her. + +PROSPERO Be collected. +No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart +There's no harm done. + +MIRANDA O, woe the day! + +PROSPERO No harm. +I have done nothing but in care of thee, +Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who +Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing +Of whence I am, nor that I am more better +Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, +And thy no greater father. + +MIRANDA More to know +Did never meddle with my thoughts. + +PROSPERO 'Tis time +I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand +And pluck my magic garment from me. +[Putting aside his cloak.] +So, +Lie there, my art.--Wipe thou thine eyes. Have +comfort. +The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touched +The very virtue of compassion in thee, +I have with such provision in mine art +So safely ordered that there is no soul-- +No, not so much perdition as an hair, +Betid to any creature in the vessel +Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit +down, +For thou must now know farther. [They sit.] + +MIRANDA You have often +Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped +And left me to a bootless inquisition, +Concluding "Stay. Not yet." + +PROSPERO The hour's now come. +The very minute bids thee ope thine ear. +Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember +A time before we came unto this cell? +I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not +Out three years old. + +MIRANDA Certainly, sir, I can. + +PROSPERO +By what? By any other house or person? +Of anything the image tell me that +Hath kept with thy remembrance. + +MIRANDA 'Tis far off +And rather like a dream than an assurance +That my remembrance warrants. Had I not +Four or five women once that tended me? + +PROSPERO +Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it +That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else +In the dark backward and abysm of time? +If thou rememb'rest aught ere thou cam'st here, +How thou cam'st here thou mayst. + +MIRANDA But that I do not. + +PROSPERO +Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, +Thy father was the Duke of Milan and +A prince of power. + +MIRANDA Sir, are not you my father? + +PROSPERO +Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and +She said thou wast my daughter. And thy father +Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir +And princess no worse issued. + +MIRANDA O, the heavens! +What foul play had we that we came from thence? +Or blessed was 't we did? + +PROSPERO Both, both, my girl. +By foul play, as thou sayst, were we heaved thence, +But blessedly holp hither. + +MIRANDA O, my heart bleeds +To think o' th' teen that I have turned you to, +Which is from my remembrance. Please you, +farther. + +PROSPERO +My brother and thy uncle, called Antonio-- +I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should +Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself +Of all the world I loved, and to him put +The manage of my state, as at that time +Through all the signories it was the first, +And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed +In dignity, and for the liberal arts +Without a parallel. Those being all my study, +The government I cast upon my brother +And to my state grew stranger, being transported +And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-- +Dost thou attend me? + +MIRANDA Sir, most heedfully. + +PROSPERO +Being once perfected how to grant suits, +How to deny them, who t' advance, and who +To trash for overtopping, new created +The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, +Or else new formed 'em, having both the key +Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state +To what tune pleased his ear, that now he was +The ivy which had hid my princely trunk +And sucked my verdure out on 't. Thou attend'st not. + +MIRANDA +O, good sir, I do. + +PROSPERO I pray thee, mark me. +I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated +To closeness and the bettering of my mind +With that which, but by being so retired, +O'erprized all popular rate, in my false brother +Awaked an evil nature, and my trust, +Like a good parent, did beget of him +A falsehood in its contrary as great +As my trust was, which had indeed no limit, +A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, +Not only with what my revenue yielded +But what my power might else exact, like one +Who, having into truth by telling of it, +Made such a sinner of his memory +To credit his own lie, he did believe +He was indeed the Duke, out o' th' substitution +And executing th' outward face of royalty +With all prerogative. Hence, his ambition growing-- +Dost thou hear? + +MIRANDA +Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. + +PROSPERO +To have no screen between this part he played +And him he played it for, he needs will be +Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library +Was dukedom large enough. Of temporal royalties +He thinks me now incapable; confederates, +So dry he was for sway, wi' th' King of Naples +To give him annual tribute, do him homage, +Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend +The dukedom, yet unbowed--alas, poor Milan!-- +To most ignoble stooping. + +MIRANDA O, the heavens! + +PROSPERO +Mark his condition and th' event. Then tell me +If this might be a brother. + +MIRANDA I should sin +To think but nobly of my grandmother. +Good wombs have borne bad sons. + +PROSPERO Now the condition. +This King of Naples, being an enemy +To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit, +Which was that he, in lieu o' th' premises +Of homage and I know not how much tribute, +Should presently extirpate me and mine +Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan, +With all the honors, on my brother; whereon, +A treacherous army levied, one midnight +Fated to th' purpose did Antonio open +The gates of Milan, and i' th' dead of darkness +The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence +Me and thy crying self. + +MIRANDA Alack, for pity! +I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, +Will cry it o'er again. It is a hint +That wrings mine eyes to 't. + +PROSPERO Hear a little further, +And then I'll bring thee to the present business +Which now 's upon 's, without the which this story +Were most impertinent. + +MIRANDA Wherefore did they not +That hour destroy us? + +PROSPERO Well demanded, wench. +My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, +So dear the love my people bore me, nor set +A mark so bloody on the business, but +With colors fairer painted their foul ends. +In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, +Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared +A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged, +Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats +Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us +To cry to th' sea that roared to us, to sigh +To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again, +Did us but loving wrong. + +MIRANDA Alack, what trouble +Was I then to you! + +PROSPERO O, a cherubin +Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, +Infused with a fortitude from heaven, +When I have decked the sea with drops full salt, +Under my burden groaned, which raised in me +An undergoing stomach to bear up +Against what should ensue. + +MIRANDA How came we ashore? + +PROSPERO By providence divine. +Some food we had, and some fresh water, that +A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, +Out of his charity, who being then appointed +Master of this design, did give us, with +Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, +Which since have steaded much. So, of his +gentleness, +Knowing I loved my books, he furnished me +From mine own library with volumes that +I prize above my dukedom. + +MIRANDA Would I might +But ever see that man. + +PROSPERO, [standing] Now I arise. +Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. +Here in this island we arrived, and here +Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit +Than other princes can, that have more time +For vainer hours and tutors not so careful. + +MIRANDA +Heavens thank you for 't. And now I pray you, sir-- +For still 'tis beating in my mind--your reason +For raising this sea storm? + +PROSPERO Know thus far forth: +By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, +Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies +Brought to this shore; and by my prescience +I find my zenith doth depend upon +A most auspicious star, whose influence +If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes +Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions. +Thou art inclined to sleep. 'Tis a good dullness, +And give it way. I know thou canst not choose. +[Miranda falls asleep.] +[Prospero puts on his cloak.] +Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. +Approach, my Ariel. Come. + +[Enter Ariel.] + + +ARIEL +All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come +To answer thy best pleasure. Be 't to fly, +To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride +On the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task +Ariel and all his quality. + +PROSPERO Hast thou, spirit, +Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee? + +ARIEL To every article. +I boarded the King's ship; now on the beak, +Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, +I flamed amazement. Sometimes I'd divide +And burn in many places. On the topmast, +The yards, and bowsprit would I flame distinctly, +Then meet and join. Jove's lightning, the precursors +O' th' dreadful thunderclaps, more momentary +And sight-outrunning were not. The fire and cracks +Of sulfurous roaring the most mighty Neptune +Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, +Yea, his dread trident shake. + +PROSPERO My brave spirit! +Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil +Would not infect his reason? + +ARIEL Not a soul +But felt a fever of the mad, and played +Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners +Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, +Then all afire with me. The King's son, Ferdinand, +With hair up-staring--then like reeds, not hair-- +Was the first man that leaped; cried "Hell is empty, +And all the devils are here." + +PROSPERO Why, that's my spirit! +But was not this nigh shore? + +ARIEL Close by, my master. + +PROSPERO +But are they, Ariel, safe? + +ARIEL Not a hair perished. +On their sustaining garments not a blemish, +But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me, +In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle. +The King's son have I landed by himself, +Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs +In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, +His arms in this sad knot. [He folds his arms.] + +PROSPERO Of the King's ship, +The mariners say how thou hast disposed, +And all the rest o' th' fleet. + +ARIEL Safely in harbor +Is the King's ship. In the deep nook, where once +Thou called'st me up at midnight to fetch dew +From the still-vexed Bermoothes, there she's hid; +The mariners all under hatches stowed, +Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labor, +I have left asleep. And for the rest o' th' fleet, +Which I dispersed, they all have met again +And are upon the Mediterranean float, +Bound sadly home for Naples, +Supposing that they saw the King's ship wracked +And his great person perish. + +PROSPERO Ariel, thy charge +Exactly is performed. But there's more work. +What is the time o' th' day? + +ARIEL Past the mid season. + +PROSPERO +At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now +Must by us both be spent most preciously. + +ARIEL +Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, +Let me remember thee what thou hast promised, +Which is not yet performed me. + +PROSPERO How now? Moody? +What is 't thou canst demand? + +ARIEL My liberty. + +PROSPERO +Before the time be out? No more. + +ARIEL I prithee, +Remember I have done thee worthy service, +Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, served +Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou did promise +To bate me a full year. + +PROSPERO Dost thou forget +From what a torment I did free thee? + +ARIEL No. + +PROSPERO +Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze +Of the salt deep, +To run upon the sharp wind of the North, +To do me business in the veins o' th' Earth +When it is baked with frost. + +ARIEL I do not, sir. + +PROSPERO +Thou liest, malignant thing. Hast thou forgot +The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy +Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her? + +ARIEL No, sir. + +PROSPERO +Thou hast. Where was she born? Speak. Tell me. + +ARIEL +Sir, in Argier. + +PROSPERO O, was she so? I must +Once in a month recount what thou hast been, +Which thou forget'st. This damned witch Sycorax, +For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible +To enter human hearing, from Argier, +Thou know'st, was banished. For one thing she did +They would not take her life. Is not this true? + +ARIEL Ay, sir. + +PROSPERO +This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child +And here was left by th' sailors. Thou, my slave, +As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant, +And for thou wast a spirit too delicate +To act her earthy and abhorred commands, +Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, +By help of her more potent ministers +And in her most unmitigable rage, +Into a cloven pine, within which rift +Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain +A dozen years; within which space she died +And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans +As fast as mill wheels strike. Then was this island +(Save for the son that she did litter here, +A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honored with +A human shape. + +ARIEL Yes, Caliban, her son. + +PROSPERO +Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban +Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st +What torment I did find thee in. Thy groans +Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts +Of ever-angry bears. It was a torment +To lay upon the damned, which Sycorax +Could not again undo. It was mine art, +When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape +The pine and let thee out. + +ARIEL I thank thee, master. + +PROSPERO +If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak +And peg thee in his knotty entrails till +Thou hast howled away twelve winters. + +ARIEL Pardon, master. +I will be correspondent to command +And do my spriting gently. + +PROSPERO Do so, and after two days +I will discharge thee. + +ARIEL That's my noble master. +What shall I do? Say, what? What shall I do? + +PROSPERO +Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea. Be subject +To no sight but thine and mine, invisible +To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape, +And hither come in 't. Go, hence with diligence! +[Ariel exits.] +Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. +Awake. [Miranda wakes.] + +MIRANDA The strangeness of your story put +Heaviness in me. + +PROSPERO Shake it off. Come on, +We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never +Yields us kind answer. + +MIRANDA, [rising] 'Tis a villain, sir, +I do not love to look on. + +PROSPERO But, as 'tis, +We cannot miss him. He does make our fire, +Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices +That profit us.--What ho, slave, Caliban! +Thou earth, thou, speak! + +CALIBAN, [within] There's wood enough within. + +PROSPERO +Come forth, I say. There's other business for thee. +Come, thou tortoise. When? + +[Enter Ariel like a water nymph.] + +Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, +Hark in thine ear. [He whispers to Ariel.] + +ARIEL My lord, it shall be done. [He exits.] + +PROSPERO, [to Caliban] +Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself +Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! + +[Enter Caliban.] + + +CALIBAN +As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed +With raven's feather from unwholesome fen +Drop on you both. A southwest blow on you +And blister you all o'er. + +PROSPERO +For this, be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps, +Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins +Shall forth at vast of night that they may work +All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinched +As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging +Than bees that made 'em. + +CALIBAN I must eat my dinner. +This island's mine by Sycorax, my mother, +Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first, +Thou strok'st me and made much of me, wouldst +give me +Water with berries in 't, and teach me how +To name the bigger light and how the less, +That burn by day and night. And then I loved thee, +And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, +The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place and +fertile. +Cursed be I that did so! All the charms +Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you, +For I am all the subjects that you have, +Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me +In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me +The rest o' th' island. + +PROSPERO Thou most lying slave, +Whom stripes may move, not kindness, I have used +thee, +Filth as thou art, with humane care, and lodged +thee +In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate +The honor of my child. + +CALIBAN +O ho, O ho! Would 't had been done! +Thou didst prevent me. I had peopled else +This isle with Calibans. + +MIRANDA Abhorred slave, +Which any print of goodness wilt not take, +Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, +Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each +hour +One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage, +Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like +A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes +With words that made them known. But thy vile +race, +Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good +natures +Could not abide to be with. Therefore wast thou +Deservedly confined into this rock, +Who hadst deserved more than a prison. + +CALIBAN +You taught me language, and my profit on 't +Is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you +For learning me your language! + +PROSPERO Hagseed, hence! +Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou 'rt best, +To answer other business. Shrugg'st thou, malice? +If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly +What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, +Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar +That beasts shall tremble at thy din. + +CALIBAN No, pray thee. +[Aside.] I must obey. His art is of such power +It would control my dam's god, Setebos, +And make a vassal of him. + +PROSPERO So, slave, hence. +[Caliban exits.] + +[Enter Ferdinand; and Ariel, invisible, +playing and singing.] + +Song. + +ARIEL + Come unto these yellow sands, + And then take hands. + Curtsied when you have, and kissed + The wild waves whist. + Foot it featly here and there, + And sweet sprites bear + The burden. Hark, hark! + [Burden dispersedly, within:] Bow-wow. + The watchdogs bark. + [Burden dispersedly, within:] Bow-wow. + Hark, hark! I hear + The strain of strutting chanticleer + Cry cock-a-diddle-dow. + +FERDINAND +Where should this music be? I' th' air, or th' earth? +It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon +Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank, +Weeping again the King my father's wrack, +This music crept by me upon the waters, +Allaying both their fury and my passion +With its sweet air. Thence I have followed it, +Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. +No, it begins again. + +Song. + +ARIEL + Full fathom five thy father lies. + Of his bones are coral made. + Those are pearls that were his eyes. + Nothing of him that doth fade + But doth suffer a sea change + Into something rich and strange. + Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell. + [Burden, within:] Ding dong. + Hark, now I hear them: ding dong bell. + +FERDINAND +The ditty does remember my drowned father. +This is no mortal business, nor no sound +That the Earth owes. I hear it now above me. + +PROSPERO, [to Miranda] +The fringed curtains of thine eye advance +And say what thou seest yond. + +MIRANDA What is 't? A spirit? +Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, +It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. + +PROSPERO +No, wench, it eats and sleeps and hath such senses +As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest +Was in the wrack; and, but he's something stained +With grief--that's beauty's canker--thou might'st +call him +A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows +And strays about to find 'em. + +MIRANDA I might call him +A thing divine, for nothing natural +I ever saw so noble. + +PROSPERO, [aside] It goes on, I see, +As my soul prompts it. [To Ariel.] Spirit, fine spirit, +I'll free thee +Within two days for this. + +FERDINAND, [seeing Miranda] Most sure, the goddess +On whom these airs attend!--Vouchsafe my prayer +May know if you remain upon this island, +And that you will some good instruction give +How I may bear me here. My prime request, +Which I do last pronounce, is--O you wonder!-- +If you be maid or no. + +MIRANDA No wonder, sir, +But certainly a maid. + +FERDINAND My language! Heavens! +I am the best of them that speak this speech, +Were I but where 'tis spoken. + +PROSPERO How? The best? +What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee? + +FERDINAND +A single thing, as I am now, that wonders +To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me, +And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples, +Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld +The King my father wracked. + +MIRANDA Alack, for mercy! + +FERDINAND +Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan +And his brave son being twain. + +PROSPERO, [aside] The Duke of Milan +And his more braver daughter could control thee, +If now 'twere fit to do 't. At the first sight +They have changed eyes.--Delicate Ariel, +I'll set thee free for this. [To Ferdinand.] A word, +good sir. +I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word. + +MIRANDA +Why speaks my father so ungently? This +Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first +That e'er I sighed for. Pity move my father +To be inclined my way. + +FERDINAND O, if a virgin, +And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you +The Queen of Naples. + +PROSPERO Soft, sir, one word more. +[Aside.] They are both in either's powers. But this +swift business +I must uneasy make, lest too light winning +Make the prize light. [To Ferdinand.] One word +more. I charge thee +That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp +The name thou ow'st not, and hast put thyself +Upon this island as a spy, to win it +From me, the lord on 't. + +FERDINAND No, as I am a man! + +MIRANDA +There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. +If the ill spirit have so fair a house, +Good things will strive to dwell with 't. + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] Follow me. +[To Miranda.] Speak not you for him. He's a traitor. +[To Ferdinand.] Come, +I'll manacle thy neck and feet together. +Sea water shalt thou drink. Thy food shall be +The fresh-brook mussels, withered roots, and husks +Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. + +FERDINAND No, +I will resist such entertainment till +Mine enemy has more power. +[He draws, and is charmed from moving.] + +MIRANDA O dear father, +Make not too rash a trial of him, for +He's gentle and not fearful. + +PROSPERO What, I say, +My foot my tutor?--Put thy sword up, traitor, +Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy +conscience +Is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward, +For I can here disarm thee with this stick +And make thy weapon drop. + +MIRANDA Beseech you, father-- + +PROSPERO +Hence! Hang not on my garments. + +MIRANDA Sir, have pity. +I'll be his surety. + +PROSPERO Silence! One word more +Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What, +An advocate for an impostor? Hush. +Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, +Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench, +To th' most of men this is a Caliban, +And they to him are angels. + +MIRANDA My affections +Are then most humble. I have no ambition +To see a goodlier man. + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] Come on, obey. +Thy nerves are in their infancy again +And have no vigor in them. + +FERDINAND So they are. +My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. +My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, +The wrack of all my friends, nor this man's threats +To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, +Might I but through my prison once a day +Behold this maid. All corners else o' th' Earth +Let liberty make use of. Space enough +Have I in such a prison. + +PROSPERO, [aside] It works.--Come on.-- +Thou hast done well, fine Ariel.--Follow me. +[To Ariel.] Hark what thou else shalt do me. + +MIRANDA, [to Ferdinand] Be of +comfort. +My father's of a better nature, sir, +Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted +Which now came from him. + +PROSPERO, [to Ariel] Thou shalt be as free +As mountain winds; but then exactly do +All points of my command. + +ARIEL To th' syllable. + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] +Come follow. [To Miranda.] Speak not for him. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, +Francisco, and others.] + + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] +Beseech you, sir, be merry. You have cause-- +So have we all--of joy, for our escape +Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe +Is common; every day some sailor's wife, +The masters of some merchant, and the merchant +Have just our theme of woe. But for the miracle-- +I mean our preservation--few in millions +Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh +Our sorrow with our comfort. + +ALONSO Prithee, peace. + +SEBASTIAN, [aside to Antonio] He receives comfort like +cold porridge. + +ANTONIO The visitor will not give him o'er so. + +SEBASTIAN Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit. +By and by it will strike. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] Sir-- + +SEBASTIAN One. Tell. + +GONZALO When every grief is entertained that's offered, +comes to th' entertainer-- + +SEBASTIAN A dollar. + +GONZALO Dolor comes to him indeed. You have spoken +truer than you purposed. + +SEBASTIAN You have taken it wiselier than I meant you +should. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] Therefore, my lord-- + +ANTONIO Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue. + +ALONSO, [to Gonzalo] I prithee, spare. + +GONZALO Well, I have done. But yet-- + +SEBASTIAN, [aside to Antonio] He will be talking. + +ANTONIO, [aside to Sebastian] Which, of he or Adrian, +for a good wager, first begins to crow? + +SEBASTIAN The old cock. + +ANTONIO The cockerel. + +SEBASTIAN Done. The wager? + +ANTONIO A laughter. + +SEBASTIAN A match! + +ADRIAN Though this island seem to be desert-- + +ANTONIO Ha, ha, ha. + +SEBASTIAN So. You're paid. + +ADRIAN Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible-- + +SEBASTIAN Yet-- + +ADRIAN Yet-- + +ANTONIO He could not miss 't. + +ADRIAN It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate +temperance. + +ANTONIO Temperance was a delicate wench. + +SEBASTIAN Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly +delivered. + +ADRIAN The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. + +SEBASTIAN As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. + +ANTONIO Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. + +GONZALO Here is everything advantageous to life. + +ANTONIO True, save means to live. + +SEBASTIAN Of that there's none, or little. + +GONZALO How lush and lusty the grass looks! How +green! + +ANTONIO The ground indeed is tawny. + +SEBASTIAN With an eye of green in 't. + +ANTONIO He misses not much. + +SEBASTIAN No, he doth but mistake the truth totally. + +GONZALO But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost +beyond credit-- + +SEBASTIAN As many vouched rarities are. + +GONZALO That our garments, being, as they were, +drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their +freshness and gloss, being rather new-dyed than +stained with salt water. + +ANTONIO If but one of his pockets could speak, would +it not say he lies? + +SEBASTIAN Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. + +GONZALO Methinks our garments are now as fresh as +when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage +of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of +Tunis. + +SEBASTIAN 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper +well in our return. + +ADRIAN Tunis was never graced before with such a +paragon to their queen. + +GONZALO Not since widow Dido's time. + +ANTONIO Widow? A pox o' that! How came that "widow" +in? Widow Dido! + +SEBASTIAN What if he had said "widower Aeneas" too? +Good Lord, how you take it! + +ADRIAN, [to Gonzalo] "Widow Dido," said you? You +make me study of that. She was of Carthage, not of +Tunis. + +GONZALO This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. + +ADRIAN Carthage? + +GONZALO I assure you, Carthage. + +ANTONIO His word is more than the miraculous harp. + +SEBASTIAN He hath raised the wall, and houses too. + +ANTONIO What impossible matter will he make easy +next? + +SEBASTIAN I think he will carry this island home in his +pocket and give it his son for an apple. + +ANTONIO And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring +forth more islands. + +GONZALO Ay. + +ANTONIO Why, in good time. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] Sir, we were talking that our +garments seem now as fresh as when we were at +Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now +queen. + +ANTONIO And the rarest that e'er came there. + +SEBASTIAN Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. + +ANTONIO O, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as +the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. + +ANTONIO That "sort" was well fished for. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] When I wore it at your daughter's +marriage. + +ALONSO +You cram these words into mine ears against +The stomach of my sense. Would I had never +Married my daughter there, for coming thence +My son is lost, and, in my rate, she too, +Who is so far from Italy removed +I ne'er again shall see her.--O, thou mine heir +Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish +Hath made his meal on thee? + +FRANCISCO Sir, he may live. +I saw him beat the surges under him +And ride upon their backs. He trod the water, +Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted +The surge most swoll'n that met him. His bold head +'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared +Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke +To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed, +As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt +He came alive to land. + +ALONSO No, no, he's gone. + +SEBASTIAN +Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, +That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, +But rather lose her to an African, +Where she at least is banished from your eye, +Who hath cause to wet the grief on 't. + +ALONSO Prithee, peace. + +SEBASTIAN +You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise +By all of us; and the fair soul herself +Weighed between loathness and obedience at +Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost +your son, +I fear, forever. Milan and Naples have +More widows in them of this business' making +Than we bring men to comfort them. +The fault's your own. + +ALONSO So is the dear'st o' th' loss. + +GONZALO My lord Sebastian, +The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness +And time to speak it in. You rub the sore +When you should bring the plaster. + +SEBASTIAN Very well. + +ANTONIO And most chirurgeonly. + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] +It is foul weather in us all, good sir, +When you are cloudy. + +SEBASTIAN Foul weather? + +ANTONIO Very foul. + +GONZALO +Had I plantation of this isle, my lord-- + +ANTONIO +He'd sow 't with nettle seed. + +SEBASTIAN Or docks, or mallows. + +GONZALO +And were the king on 't, what would I do? + +SEBASTIAN Scape being drunk, for want of wine. + +GONZALO +I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries +Execute all things, for no kind of traffic +Would I admit; no name of magistrate; +Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, +And use of service, none; contract, succession, +Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; +No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; +No occupation; all men idle, all, +And women too, but innocent and pure; +No sovereignty-- + +SEBASTIAN Yet he would be king on 't. + +ANTONIO The latter end of his commonwealth forgets +the beginning. + +GONZALO +All things in common nature should produce +Without sweat or endeavor; treason, felony, +Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine +Would I not have; but nature should bring forth +Of its own kind all foison, all abundance, +To feed my innocent people. + +SEBASTIAN No marrying 'mong his subjects? + +ANTONIO None, man, all idle: whores and knaves. + +GONZALO +I would with such perfection govern, sir, +T' excel the Golden Age. + +SEBASTIAN 'Save his Majesty! + +ANTONIO +Long live Gonzalo! + +GONZALO And do you mark me, sir? + +ALONSO +Prithee, no more. Thou dost talk nothing to me. + +GONZALO I do well believe your Highness, and did it to +minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of +such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use +to laugh at nothing. + +ANTONIO 'Twas you we laughed at. + +GONZALO Who in this kind of merry fooling am +nothing to you. So you may continue, and laugh at +nothing still. + +ANTONIO What a blow was there given! + +SEBASTIAN An it had not fallen flatlong. + +GONZALO You are gentlemen of brave mettle. You +would lift the moon out of her sphere if she would +continue in it five weeks without changing. + +[Enter Ariel invisible, playing solemn music.] + + +SEBASTIAN We would so, and then go a-batfowling. + +ANTONIO, [to Gonzalo] Nay, good my lord, be not angry. + +GONZALO No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my +discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep? +For I am very heavy. + +ANTONIO Go sleep, and hear us. +[All sink down asleep except Alonso, +Antonio, and Sebastian.] + +ALONSO +What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes +Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts. I find +They are inclined to do so. + +SEBASTIAN Please you, sir, +Do not omit the heavy offer of it. +It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, +It is a comforter. + +ANTONIO We two, my lord, +Will guard your person while you take your rest, +And watch your safety. + +ALONSO Thank you. Wondrous heavy. +[Alonso sleeps. Ariel exits.] + +SEBASTIAN +What a strange drowsiness possesses them! + +ANTONIO +It is the quality o' th' climate. + +SEBASTIAN Why +Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find +Not myself disposed to sleep. + +ANTONIO Nor I. My spirits are nimble. +They fell together all, as by consent. +They dropped as by a thunderstroke. What might, +Worthy Sebastian, O, what might--? No more. +And yet methinks I see it in thy face +What thou shouldst be. Th' occasion speaks thee, and +My strong imagination sees a crown +Dropping upon thy head. + +SEBASTIAN What, art thou waking? + +ANTONIO +Do you not hear me speak? + +SEBASTIAN I do, and surely +It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st +Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? +This is a strange repose, to be asleep +With eyes wide open--standing, speaking, moving-- +And yet so fast asleep. + +ANTONIO Noble Sebastian, +Thou let'st thy fortune sleep, die rather, wink'st +Whiles thou art waking. + +SEBASTIAN Thou dost snore distinctly. +There's meaning in thy snores. + +ANTONIO +I am more serious than my custom. You +Must be so too, if heed me; which to do +Trebles thee o'er. + +SEBASTIAN Well, I am standing water. + +ANTONIO +I'll teach you how to flow. + +SEBASTIAN Do so. To ebb +Hereditary sloth instructs me. + +ANTONIO O, +If you but knew how you the purpose cherish +Whiles thus you mock it, how in stripping it +You more invest it. Ebbing men indeed +Most often do so near the bottom run +By their own fear or sloth. + +SEBASTIAN Prithee, say on. +The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim +A matter from thee, and a birth indeed +Which throes thee much to yield. + +ANTONIO Thus, sir: +Although this lord of weak remembrance--this, +Who shall be of as little memory +When he is earthed--hath here almost persuaded-- +For he's a spirit of persuasion, only +Professes to persuade--the King his son's alive, +'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned +As he that sleeps here swims. + +SEBASTIAN I have no hope +That he's undrowned. + +ANTONIO O, out of that no hope +What great hope have you! No hope that way is +Another way so high a hope that even +Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, +But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me +That Ferdinand is drowned? + +SEBASTIAN He's gone. + +ANTONIO Then tell me, +Who's the next heir of Naples? + +SEBASTIAN Claribel. + +ANTONIO +She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells +Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples +Can have no note, unless the sun were post-- +The man i' th' moon's too slow--till newborn chins +Be rough and razorable; she that from whom +We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again, +And by that destiny to perform an act +Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come +In yours and my discharge. + +SEBASTIAN What stuff is this? How say you? +'Tis true my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, +So is she heir of Naples, 'twixt which regions +There is some space. + +ANTONIO A space whose ev'ry cubit +Seems to cry out "How shall that Claribel +Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis +And let Sebastian wake." Say this were death +That now hath seized them, why, they were no worse +Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples +As well as he that sleeps, lords that can prate +As amply and unnecessarily +As this Gonzalo. I myself could make +A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore +The mind that I do, what a sleep were this +For your advancement! Do you understand me? + +SEBASTIAN +Methinks I do. + +ANTONIO And how does your content +Tender your own good fortune? + +SEBASTIAN I remember +You did supplant your brother Prospero. + +ANTONIO True, +And look how well my garments sit upon me, +Much feater than before. My brother's servants +Were then my fellows; now they are my men. + +SEBASTIAN But, for your conscience? + +ANTONIO +Ay, sir, where lies that? If 'twere a kibe, +'Twould put me to my slipper, but I feel not +This deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences +That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they +And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother, +No better than the earth he lies upon. +If he were that which now he's like--that's dead-- +Whom I with this obedient steel, three inches of it, +Can lay to bed forever; whiles you, doing thus, +To the perpetual wink for aye might put +This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who +Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, +They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk. +They'll tell the clock to any business that +We say befits the hour. + +SEBASTIAN Thy case, dear friend, +Shall be my precedent: as thou got'st Milan, +I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke +Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest, +And I the King shall love thee. + +ANTONIO Draw together, +And when I rear my hand, do you the like +To fall it on Gonzalo. [They draw their swords.] + +SEBASTIAN O, but one word. +[They talk apart.] + +[Enter Ariel, invisible, with music and song.] + + +ARIEL, [to the sleeping Gonzalo] +My master through his art foresees the danger +That you, his friend, are in, and sends me forth-- +For else his project dies--to keep them living. +[Sings in Gonzalo's ear:] + While you here do snoring lie, + Open-eyed conspiracy + His time doth take. + If of life you keep a care, + Shake off slumber and beware. + Awake, awake! + +ANTONIO, [to Sebastian] Then let us both be sudden. + +GONZALO, [waking] Now, good angels preserve the +King! [He wakes Alonso.] + +ALONSO, [to Sebastian] +Why, how now, ho! Awake? Why are you drawn? +Wherefore this ghastly looking? + +GONZALO, [to Sebastian] What's the matter? + +SEBASTIAN +Whiles we stood here securing your repose, +Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing +Like bulls, or rather lions. Did 't not wake you? +It struck mine ear most terribly. + +ALONSO I heard nothing. + +ANTONIO +O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear, +To make an earthquake. Sure, it was the roar +Of a whole herd of lions. + +ALONSO Heard you this, Gonzalo? + +GONZALO +Upon mine honor, sir, I heard a humming, +And that a strange one too, which did awake me. +I shaked you, sir, and cried. As mine eyes opened, +I saw their weapons drawn. There was a noise, +That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard, +Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons. + +ALONSO +Lead off this ground, and let's make further search +For my poor son. + +GONZALO Heavens keep him from these beasts, +For he is, sure, i' th' island. + +ALONSO Lead away. + +ARIEL, [aside] +Prospero my lord shall know what I have done. +So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of +thunder heard.] + + +CALIBAN +All the infections that the sun sucks up +From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him +By inchmeal a disease! His spirits hear me, +And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, +Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' th' mire, +Nor lead me like a firebrand in the dark +Out of my way, unless he bid 'em. But +For every trifle are they set upon me, +Sometimes like apes, that mow and chatter at me +And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which +Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount +Their pricks at my footfall. Sometime am I +All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues +Do hiss me into madness. Lo, now, lo! +Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me +For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat. +Perchance he will not mind me. +[He lies down and covers himself with a cloak.] + +[Enter Trinculo.] + + +TRINCULO Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off +any weather at all. And another storm brewing; I +hear it sing i' th' wind. Yond same black cloud, yond +huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed +his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I +know not where to hide my head. Yond same cloud +cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. [Noticing Caliban.] +What have we here, a man or a fish? Dead or +alive? A fish, he smells like a fish--a very ancient +and fishlike smell, a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-John. +A strange fish. Were I in England now, as once +I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday +fool there but would give a piece of silver. There +would this monster make a man. Any strange beast +there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to +relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a +dead Indian. Legged like a man, and his fins like +arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my +opinion, hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an +islander that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. +[Thunder.] Alas, the storm is come again. My best +way is to creep under his gaberdine. There is no +other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man +with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the +dregs of the storm be past. +[He crawls under Caliban's cloak.] + +[Enter Stephano singing.] + + +STEPHANO + I shall no more to sea, to sea. + Here shall I die ashore-- +This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral. +Well, here's my comfort. [Drinks.] +[Sings.] + + The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, + The gunner and his mate, + Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, + But none of us cared for Kate. + For she had a tongue with a tang, + Would cry to a sailor "Go hang!" + She loved not the savor of tar nor of pitch, + Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch. + Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang! +This is a scurvy tune too. But here's my comfort. +[Drinks.] + +CALIBAN Do not torment me! O! + +STEPHANO What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do +you put tricks upon 's with savages and men of Ind? +Ha? I have not scaped drowning to be afeard now +of your four legs, for it hath been said "As proper a +man as ever went on four legs cannot make him +give ground," and it shall be said so again while +Stephano breathes at' nostrils. + +CALIBAN The spirit torments me. O! + +STEPHANO This is some monster of the isle with four +legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the +devil should he learn our language? I will give him +some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him +and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, +he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on +neat's leather. + +CALIBAN Do not torment me, prithee. I'll bring my +wood home faster. + +STEPHANO He's in his fit now, and does not talk after +the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle. If he have +never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove +his fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will +not take too much for him. He shall pay for him that +hath him, and that soundly. + +CALIBAN Thou dost me yet but little hurt. Thou wilt +anon; I know it by thy trembling. Now Prosper +works upon thee. + +STEPHANO Come on your ways. Open your mouth. +Here is that which will give language to you, cat. +Open your mouth. This will shake your shaking, I +can tell you, and that soundly. [Caliban drinks.] You +cannot tell who's your friend. Open your chaps +again. + +TRINCULO I should know that voice. It should be--but +he is drowned, and these are devils. O, defend me! + +STEPHANO Four legs and two voices--a most delicate +monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of +his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul +speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle +will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. +[Caliban drinks.] Amen! I will pour some in thy +other mouth. + +TRINCULO Stephano! + +STEPHANO Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy, +this is a devil, and no monster! I will leave him; I +have no long spoon. + +TRINCULO Stephano! If thou be'st Stephano, touch me +and speak to me, for I am Trinculo--be not +afeard--thy good friend Trinculo. + +STEPHANO If thou be'st Trinculo, come forth. I'll pull +thee by the lesser legs. If any be Trinculo's legs, +these are they. [He pulls him out from under Caliban's +cloak.] Thou art very Trinculo indeed. How +cam'st thou to be the siege of this mooncalf? Can +he vent Trinculos? + +TRINCULO I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke. +But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I +hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm +overblown? I hid me under the dead mooncalf's +gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, +Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans scaped! + +STEPHANO Prithee, do not turn me about. My stomach +is not constant. + +CALIBAN, [aside] These be fine things, an if they be not +sprites. That's a brave god and bears celestial liquor. +I will kneel to him. +[He crawls out from under the cloak.] + +STEPHANO, [to Trinculo] How didst thou scape? How +cam'st thou hither? Swear by this bottle how thou +cam'st hither--I escaped upon a butt of sack, which +the sailors heaved o'erboard--by this bottle, which +I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands, +since I was cast ashore. + +CALIBAN I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true +subject, for the liquor is not earthly. + +STEPHANO, [to Trinculo] Here. Swear then how thou +escapedst. + +TRINCULO Swum ashore, man, like a duck. I can swim +like a duck, I'll be sworn. + +STEPHANO Here, kiss the book. [Trinculo drinks.] +Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made +like a goose. + +TRINCULO O Stephano, hast any more of this? + +STEPHANO The whole butt, man. My cellar is in a rock +by th' seaside, where my wine is hid.--How now, +mooncalf, how does thine ague? + +CALIBAN Hast thou not dropped from heaven? + +STEPHANO Out o' th' moon, I do assure thee. I was the +man i' th' moon when time was. + +CALIBAN I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee. +My mistress showed me thee, and thy dog, and thy +bush. + +STEPHANO Come, swear to that. Kiss the book. I will +furnish it anon with new contents. Swear. +[Caliban drinks.] + +TRINCULO By this good light, this is a very shallow +monster. I afeard of him? A very weak monster. The +man i' th' moon? A most poor, credulous monster! +--Well drawn, monster, in good sooth! + +CALIBAN I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island, +and I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god. + +TRINCULO By this light, a most perfidious and drunken +monster. When 's god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. + +CALIBAN I'll kiss thy foot. I'll swear myself thy subject. + +STEPHANO Come on, then. Down, and swear. +[Caliban kneels.] + +TRINCULO I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed +monster. A most scurvy monster. I could +find in my heart to beat him-- + +STEPHANO Come, kiss. + +TRINCULO --but that the poor monster's in drink. An +abominable monster. + +CALIBAN +I'll show thee the best springs. I'll pluck thee berries. +I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough. +A plague upon the tyrant that I serve. +I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, +Thou wondrous man. + +TRINCULO A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder +of a poor drunkard. + +CALIBAN, [standing] +I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow, +And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts, +Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how +To snare the nimble marmoset. I'll bring thee +To clustering filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee +Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me? + +STEPHANO I prithee now, lead the way without any +more talking.--Trinculo, the King and all our +company else being drowned, we will inherit here. +--Here, bear my bottle.--Fellow Trinculo, we'll +fill him by and by again. + +CALIBAN [sings drunkenly] + Farewell, master, farewell, farewell. + +TRINCULO A howling monster, a drunken monster. + +CALIBAN [sings] + No more dams I'll make for fish, + Nor fetch in firing + At requiring, + Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish. + 'Ban, 'ban, Ca-caliban + Has a new master. Get a new man. +Freedom, high-day! High-day, freedom! Freedom, +high-day, freedom! + +STEPHANO O brave monster! Lead the way. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Ferdinand bearing a log.] + + +FERDINAND +There be some sports are painful, and their labor +Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness +Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters +Point to rich ends. This my mean task +Would be as heavy to me as odious, but +The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead +And makes my labors pleasures. O, she is +Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed, +And he's composed of harshness. I must remove +Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, +Upon a sore injunction. My sweet mistress +Weeps when she sees me work, and says such +baseness +Had never like executor. I forget; +But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labors, +Most busiest when I do it. + +[Enter Miranda; and Prospero at a distance, unobserved.] + + +MIRANDA Alas now, pray you, +Work not so hard. I would the lightning had +Burnt up those logs that you are enjoined to pile. +Pray, set it down and rest you. When this burns +'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father +Is hard at study. Pray now, rest yourself. +He's safe for these three hours. + +FERDINAND O most dear mistress, +The sun will set before I shall discharge +What I must strive to do. + +MIRANDA If you'll sit down, +I'll bear your logs the while. Pray, give me that. +I'll carry it to the pile. + +FERDINAND No, precious creature, +I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, +Than you should such dishonor undergo +While I sit lazy by. + +MIRANDA It would become me +As well as it does you, and I should do it +With much more ease, for my good will is to it, +And yours it is against. + +PROSPERO, [aside] Poor worm, thou art infected. +This visitation shows it. + +MIRANDA You look wearily. +FERDINAND +No, noble mistress, 'tis fresh morning with me +When you are by at night. I do beseech you, +Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers, +What is your name? + +MIRANDA Miranda.--O my father, +I have broke your hest to say so! + +FERDINAND Admired Miranda! +Indeed the top of admiration, worth +What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady +I have eyed with best regard, and many a time +Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage +Brought my too diligent ear. For several virtues +Have I liked several women, never any +With so full soul but some defect in her +Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, +And put it to the foil. But you, O you, +So perfect and so peerless, are created +Of every creature's best. + +MIRANDA I do not know +One of my sex, no woman's face remember, +Save, from my glass, mine own. Nor have I seen +More that I may call men than you, good friend, +And my dear father. How features are abroad +I am skilless of, but by my modesty, +The jewel in my dower, I would not wish +Any companion in the world but you, +Nor can imagination form a shape +Besides yourself to like of. But I prattle +Something too wildly, and my father's precepts +I therein do forget. + +FERDINAND I am in my condition +A prince, Miranda; I do think a king-- +I would, not so!--and would no more endure +This wooden slavery than to suffer +The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak: +The very instant that I saw you did +My heart fly to your service, there resides +To make me slave to it, and for your sake +Am I this patient log-man. + +MIRANDA Do you love me? + +FERDINAND +O heaven, O Earth, bear witness to this sound, +And crown what I profess with kind event +If I speak true; if hollowly, invert +What best is boded me to mischief. I, +Beyond all limit of what else i' th' world, +Do love, prize, honor you. + +MIRANDA I am a fool +To weep at what I am glad of. + +PROSPERO, [aside] Fair encounter +Of two most rare affections. Heavens rain grace +On that which breeds between 'em! + +FERDINAND Wherefore +weep you? + +MIRANDA +At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer +What I desire to give, and much less take +What I shall die to want. But this is trifling, +And all the more it seeks to hide itself, +The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, +And prompt me, plain and holy innocence. +I am your wife if you will marry me. +If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow +You may deny me, but I'll be your servant +Whether you will or no. + +FERDINAND +My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever. + +MIRANDA +My husband, then? + +FERDINAND Ay, with a heart as willing +As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand. + +MIRANDA, [clasping his hand] +And mine, with my heart in 't. And now farewell +Till half an hour hence. + +FERDINAND A thousand thousand. +[They exit.] + +PROSPERO +So glad of this as they I cannot be, +Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing +At nothing can be more. I'll to my book, +For yet ere suppertime must I perform +Much business appertaining. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.] + + +STEPHANO, [to Trinculo] Tell not me. When the butt is +out, we will drink water; not a drop before. Therefore +bear up and board 'em.--Servant monster, +drink to me. + +TRINCULO Servant monster? The folly of this island! +They say there's but five upon this isle; we are three +of them. If th' other two be brained like us, the state +totters. + +STEPHANO Drink, servant monster, when I bid thee. +Thy eyes are almost set in thy head. +[Caliban drinks.] + +TRINCULO Where should they be set else? He were a +brave monster indeed if they were set in his tail. + +STEPHANO My man-monster hath drowned his tongue +in sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me. I +swam, ere I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty +leagues off and on, by this light.--Thou shalt be my +lieutenant, monster, or my standard. + +TRINCULO Your lieutenant, if you list. He's no +standard. + +STEPHANO We'll not run, Monsieur Monster. + +TRINCULO Nor go neither. But you'll lie like dogs, and +yet say nothing neither. + +STEPHANO Mooncalf, speak once in thy life, if thou +be'st a good mooncalf. + +CALIBAN How does thy Honor? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll +not serve him; he is not valiant. + +TRINCULO Thou liest, most ignorant monster. I am in +case to justle a constable. Why, thou debauched +fish, thou! Was there ever man a coward that hath +drunk so much sack as I today? Wilt thou tell a +monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a +monster? + +CALIBAN Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my +lord? + +TRINCULO "Lord," quoth he? That a monster should be +such a natural! + +CALIBAN Lo, lo again! Bite him to death, I prithee. + +STEPHANO Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head. +If you prove a mutineer, the next tree. The poor +monster's my subject, and he shall not suffer +indignity. + +CALIBAN I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased +to harken once again to the suit I made to thee? + +STEPHANO Marry, will I. Kneel and repeat it. I will +stand, and so shall Trinculo. + +[Enter Ariel, invisible.] + + +CALIBAN, [kneeling] As I told thee before, I am subject +to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath +cheated me of the island. + +ARIEL, [in Trinculo's voice] Thou liest. + +CALIBAN, [to Trinculo] Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, +thou. [He stands.] I would my valiant master would +destroy thee. I do not lie. + +STEPHANO Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in 's +tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your +teeth. + +TRINCULO Why, I said nothing. + +STEPHANO Mum then, and no more. [Trinculo stands +aside.] Proceed. + +CALIBAN +I say by sorcery he got this isle; +From me he got it. If thy Greatness will, +Revenge it on him, for I know thou dar'st, +But this thing dare not. + +STEPHANO That's most certain. + +CALIBAN +Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee. + +STEPHANO How now shall this be compassed? Canst +thou bring me to the party? + +CALIBAN +Yea, yea, my lord. I'll yield him thee asleep, +Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head. + +ARIEL, [in Trinculo's voice] Thou liest. Thou canst not. + +CALIBAN +What a pied ninny's this!--Thou scurvy patch!-- +I do beseech thy Greatness, give him blows +And take his bottle from him. When that's gone, +He shall drink naught but brine, for I'll not show him +Where the quick freshes are. + +STEPHANO Trinculo, run into no further danger. Interrupt +the monster one word further, and by this +hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors and make a +stockfish of thee. + +TRINCULO Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go +farther off. + +STEPHANO Didst thou not say he lied? + +ARIEL, [in Trinculo's voice] Thou liest. + +STEPHANO Do I so? Take thou that. [He beats Trinculo.] +As you like this, give me the lie another time. + +TRINCULO I did not give the lie! Out o' your wits and +hearing too? A pox o' your bottle! This can sack and +drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the +devil take your fingers! + +CALIBAN Ha, ha, ha! + +STEPHANO Now forward with your tale. [To Trinculo.] +Prithee, stand further off. + +CALIBAN +Beat him enough. After a little time +I'll beat him too. + +STEPHANO Stand farther. [Trinculo moves farther +away.] Come, proceed. + +CALIBAN +Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him +I' th' afternoon to sleep. There thou mayst brain him, +Having first seized his books, or with a log +Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, +Or cut his weasand with thy knife. Remember +First to possess his books, for without them +He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not +One spirit to command. They all do hate him +As rootedly as I. Burn but his books. +He has brave utensils--for so he calls them-- +Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal. +And that most deeply to consider is +The beauty of his daughter. He himself +Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman +But only Sycorax my dam and she; +But she as far surpasseth Sycorax +As great'st does least. + +STEPHANO Is it so brave a lass? + +CALIBAN +Ay, lord, she will become thy bed, I warrant, +And bring thee forth brave brood. + +STEPHANO Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter +and I will be king and queen--save our Graces!-- +and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.--Dost +thou like the plot, Trinculo? + +TRINCULO Excellent. + +STEPHANO Give me thy hand. I am sorry I beat thee. +But while thou liv'st, keep a good tongue in thy +head. + +CALIBAN +Within this half hour will he be asleep. +Wilt thou destroy him then? + +STEPHANO Ay, on mine honor. + +ARIEL, [aside] This will I tell my master. + +CALIBAN +Thou mak'st me merry. I am full of pleasure. +Let us be jocund. Will you troll the catch +You taught me but whilere? + +STEPHANO At thy request, monster, I will do reason, +any reason.--Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. +[Sings.] + Flout 'em and cout 'em + And scout 'em and flout 'em! + Thought is free. + +CALIBAN That's not the tune. +[Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.] + +STEPHANO What is this same? + +TRINCULO This is the tune of our catch played by the +picture of Nobody. + +STEPHANO, [to the invisible musician] If thou be'st a +man, show thyself in thy likeness. If thou be'st a +devil, take 't as thou list. + +TRINCULO O, forgive me my sins! + +STEPHANO He that dies pays all debts.--I defy thee!-- +Mercy upon us! + +CALIBAN Art thou afeard? + +STEPHANO No, monster, not I. + +CALIBAN +Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, +Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. +Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments +Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices +That, if I then had waked after long sleep, +Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, +The clouds methought would open, and show riches +Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked +I cried to dream again. + +STEPHANO This will prove a brave kingdom to me, +where I shall have my music for nothing. + +CALIBAN When Prospero is destroyed. + +STEPHANO That shall be by and by. I remember the +story. + +TRINCULO The sound is going away. Let's follow it, and +after do our work. + +STEPHANO Lead, monster. We'll follow.--I would I +could see this taborer. He lays it on. Wilt come? + +TRINCULO I'll follow, Stephano. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, +Francisco, etc.] + + +GONZALO +By 'r lakin, I can go no further, sir. +My old bones aches. Here's a maze trod indeed +Through forthrights and meanders. By your +patience, +I needs must rest me. + +ALONSO Old lord, I cannot blame thee. +Who am myself attached with weariness +To th' dulling of my spirits. Sit down and rest. +Even here I will put off my hope and keep it +No longer for my flatterer. He is drowned +Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks +Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. + +ANTONIO, [aside to Sebastian] +I am right glad that he's so out of hope. +Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose +That you resolved t' effect. + +SEBASTIAN, [aside to Antonio] The next advantage +Will we take throughly. + +ANTONIO, [aside to Sebastian] Let it be tonight; +For now they are oppressed with travel, they +Will not nor cannot use such vigilance +As when they are fresh. + +SEBASTIAN, [aside to Antonio] I say tonight. No more. + +[Solemn and strange music, and enter Prospero on the +top invisible.] + + +ALONSO +What harmony is this? My good friends, hark. + +GONZALO Marvelous sweet music! + +[Enter several strange shapes, bringing in a banquet, and +dance about it with gentle actions of salutations.] + + +ALONSO +Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these? + +SEBASTIAN +A living drollery! Now I will believe +That there are unicorns, that in Arabia +There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix +At this hour reigning there. + +ANTONIO I'll believe both; +And what does else want credit, come to me +And I'll be sworn 'tis true. Travelers ne'er did lie, +Though fools at home condemn 'em. + +GONZALO If in Naples +I should report this now, would they believe me? +If I should say I saw such islanders-- +For, certes, these are people of the island-- +Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet note +Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of +Our human generation you shall find +Many, nay, almost any. + +PROSPERO, [aside] Honest lord, +Thou hast said well, for some of you there present +Are worse than devils. + +ALONSO I cannot too much muse +Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, +expressing-- +Although they want the use of tongue--a kind +Of excellent dumb discourse. + +PROSPERO, [aside] Praise in departing. +[Inviting the King, etc., to eat, the shapes depart.] + +FRANCISCO They vanished strangely. + +SEBASTIAN No matter, since +They have left their viands behind, for we have +stomachs. +Will 't please you taste of what is here? + +ALONSO Not I. + +GONZALO +Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, +Who would believe that there were mountaineers +Dewlapped like bulls, whose throats had hanging at +'em +Wallets of flesh? Or that there were such men +Whose heads stood in their breasts? Which now we +find +Each putter-out of five for one will bring us +Good warrant of. + +ALONSO I will stand to and feed. +Although my last, no matter, since I feel +The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke, +Stand to, and do as we. +[Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio +move toward the table.] + +[Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel, like a Harpy, claps +his wings upon the table, and with a quaint device the +banquet vanishes.] + + +ARIEL [as Harpy] +You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, +That hath to instrument this lower world +And what is in 't, the never-surfeited sea +Hath caused to belch up you, and on this island, +Where man doth not inhabit, you 'mongst men +Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; +And even with such-like valor, men hang and drown +Their proper selves. +[Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio draw their swords.] +You fools, I and my fellows +Are ministers of Fate. The elements +Of whom your swords are tempered may as well +Wound the loud winds or with bemocked-at stabs +Kill the still-closing waters as diminish +One dowl that's in my plume. My fellow ministers +Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, +Your swords are now too massy for your strengths +And will not be uplifted. But remember-- +For that's my business to you--that you three +From Milan did supplant good Prospero, +Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it, +Him and his innocent child, for which foul deed, +The powers--delaying, not forgetting--have +Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures +Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, +They have bereft; and do pronounce by me +Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death +Can be at once, shall step by step attend +You and your ways, whose wraths to guard you +from-- +Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls +Upon your heads--is nothing but heart's sorrow +And a clear life ensuing. [He vanishes in thunder.] + +[Then, to soft music, enter the shapes again, and dance, +with mocks and mows, and carrying out the table.] + + + +PROSPERO, [aside] +Bravely the figure of this Harpy hast thou +Performed, my Ariel. A grace it had, devouring. +Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated +In what thou hadst to say. So, with good life +And observation strange, my meaner ministers +Their several kinds have done. My high charms +work, +And these mine enemies are all knit up +In their distractions. They now are in my power; +And in these fits I leave them while I visit +Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drowned, +And his and mine loved darling. [He exits, above.] + +GONZALO, [to Alonso] +I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you +In this strange stare? + +ALONSO O, it is monstrous, monstrous! +Methought the billows spoke and told me of it; +The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, +That deep and dreadful organ pipe, pronounced +The name of Prosper. It did bass my trespass. +Therefor my son i' th' ooze is bedded, and +I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, +And with him there lie mudded. [He exits.] + +SEBASTIAN But one fiend at a time, +I'll fight their legions o'er. + +ANTONIO I'll be thy second. +[They exit.] + +GONZALO +All three of them are desperate. Their great guilt, +Like poison given to work a great time after, +Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you +That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly +And hinder them from what this ecstasy +May now provoke them to. + +ADRIAN Follow, I pray you. +[They all exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.] + + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] +If I have too austerely punished you, +Your compensation makes amends, for I +Have given you here a third of mine own life, +Or that for which I live; who once again +I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations +Were but my trials of thy love, and thou +Hast strangely stood the test. Here afore heaven +I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand, +Do not smile at me that I boast of her, +For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise +And make it halt behind her. + +FERDINAND I do believe it +Against an oracle. + +PROSPERO +Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition +Worthily purchased, take my daughter. But +If thou dost break her virgin-knot before +All sanctimonious ceremonies may +With full and holy rite be ministered, +No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall +To make this contract grow; but barren hate, +Sour-eyed disdain, and discord shall bestrew +The union of your bed with weeds so loathly +That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed, +As Hymen's lamps shall light you. + +FERDINAND As I hope +For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, +With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den, +The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion +Our worser genius can shall never melt +Mine honor into lust to take away +The edge of that day's celebration +When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are foundered +Or night kept chained below. + +PROSPERO Fairly spoke. +Sit then and talk with her. She is thine own. +[Ferdinand and Miranda move aside.] +What, Ariel, my industrious servant, Ariel! + +[Enter Ariel.] + + +ARIEL +What would my potent master? Here I am. + +PROSPERO +Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service +Did worthily perform, and I must use you +In such another trick. Go bring the rabble, +O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place. +Incite them to quick motion, for I must +Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple +Some vanity of mine art. It is my promise, +And they expect it from me. + +ARIEL Presently? + +PROSPERO Ay, with a twink. + +ARIEL + Before you can say "Come" and "Go," + And breathe twice, and cry "So, so," + Each one, tripping on his toe, + Will be here with mop and mow. + Do you love me, master? No? + +PROSPERO +Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach +Till thou dost hear me call. + +ARIEL Well; I conceive. +[He exits.] + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] +Look thou be true; do not give dalliance +Too much the rein. The strongest oaths are straw +To th' fire i' th' blood. Be more abstemious, +Or else goodnight your vow. + +FERDINAND I warrant you, sir, +The white cold virgin snow upon my heart +Abates the ardor of my liver. + +PROSPERO Well.-- +Now come, my Ariel. Bring a corollary +Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly. +[Soft music.] +No tongue. All eyes. Be silent. + +[Enter Iris.] + + +IRIS +Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas +Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas; +Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, +And flat meads thatched with stover, them to keep; +Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, +Which spongy April at thy hest betrims +To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy +broom groves, +Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, +Being lass-lorn; thy poll-clipped vineyard, +And thy sea marge, sterile and rocky hard, +Where thou thyself dost air--the Queen o' th' sky, +Whose wat'ry arch and messenger am I, +Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, +Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, +To come and sport. Her peacocks fly amain. +Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain. + +[Enter Ceres.] + + +CERES +Hail, many-colored messenger, that ne'er +Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter; +Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers +Diffusest honey drops, refreshing showers; +And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown +My bosky acres and my unshrubbed down, +Rich scarf to my proud Earth. Why hath thy queen +Summoned me hither to this short-grassed green? + +IRIS +A contract of true love to celebrate, +And some donation freely to estate +On the blest lovers. + +CERES Tell me, heavenly bow, +If Venus or her son, as thou dost know, +Do now attend the Queen? Since they did plot +The means that dusky Dis my daughter got, +Her and her blind boy's scandaled company +I have forsworn. + +IRIS Of her society +Be not afraid. I met her deity +Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son +Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have +done +Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, +Whose vows are that no bed-right shall be paid +Till Hymen's torch be lighted--but in vain. +Mars's hot minion is returned again; +Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, +Swears he will shoot no more, but play with +sparrows, +And be a boy right out. + +[Juno descends.] + + +CERES Highest queen of state, +Great Juno, comes. I know her by her gait. + +JUNO +How does my bounteous sister? Go with me +To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be +And honored in their issue. +[They sing.] + +JUNO + Honor, riches, marriage-blessing, + Long continuance and increasing, + Hourly joys be still upon you. + Juno sings her blessings on you. + +CERES + Earth's increase, foison plenty, + Barns and garners never empty, + Vines with clust'ring bunches growing, + Plants with goodly burden bowing; + Spring come to you at the farthest + In the very end of harvest. + Scarcity and want shall shun you. + Ceres' blessing so is on you. + +FERDINAND +This is a most majestic vision, and +Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold +To think these spirits? + +PROSPERO Spirits, which by mine art +I have from their confines called to enact +My present fancies. + +FERDINAND Let me live here ever. +So rare a wondered father and a wise +Makes this place paradise. +[Juno and Ceres whisper, +and send Iris on employment.] + +PROSPERO Sweet now, silence. +Juno and Ceres whisper seriously. +There's something else to do. Hush, and be mute, +Or else our spell is marred. + +IRIS +You nymphs, called naiads of the windring brooks, +With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks, +Leave your crisp channels and on this green land +Answer your summons, Juno does command. +Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate +A contract of true love. Be not too late. + +[Enter certain Nymphs.] + +You sunburned sicklemen, of August weary, +Come hither from the furrow and be merry. +Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on, +And these fresh nymphs encounter every one +In country footing. + +[Enter certain Reapers, properly habited. They join with +the Nymphs in a graceful dance, towards the end +whereof Prospero starts suddenly and speaks.] + + +PROSPERO +I had forgot that foul conspiracy +Of the beast Caliban and his confederates +Against my life. The minute of their plot +Is almost come.--Well done. Avoid. No more. +[To a strange, hollow, and confused noise, +the spirits heavily vanish.] + +FERDINAND, [to Miranda] +This is strange. Your father's in some passion +That works him strongly. + +MIRANDA Never till this day +Saw I him touched with anger, so distempered. + +PROSPERO, [to Ferdinand] +You do look, my son, in a moved sort, +As if you were dismayed. Be cheerful, sir. +Our revels now are ended. These our actors, +As I foretold you, were all spirits and +Are melted into air, into thin air; +And like the baseless fabric of this vision, +The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, +The solemn temples, the great globe itself, +Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, +And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, +Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff +As dreams are made on, and our little life +Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vexed. +Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. +Be not disturbed with my infirmity. +If you be pleased, retire into my cell +And there repose. A turn or two I'll walk +To still my beating mind. + +FERDINAND/MIRANDA We wish your peace. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Ariel.] + + +PROSPERO +Come with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel. Come. + +ARIEL +Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure? + +PROSPERO Spirit, +We must prepare to meet with Caliban. + +ARIEL +Ay, my commander. When I presented Ceres, +I thought to have told thee of it, but I feared +Lest I might anger thee. + +PROSPERO +Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets? + +ARIEL +I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking, +So full of valor that they smote the air +For breathing in their faces, beat the ground +For kissing of their feet; yet always bending +Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor, +At which, like unbacked colts, they pricked their +ears, +Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses +As they smelt music. So I charmed their ears +That, calf-like, they my lowing followed through +Toothed briers, sharp furzes, pricking gorse, and +thorns, +Which entered their frail shins. At last I left them +I' th' filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, +There dancing up to th' chins, that the foul lake +O'erstunk their feet. + +PROSPERO This was well done, my bird. +Thy shape invisible retain thou still. +The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither +For stale to catch these thieves. + +ARIEL I go, I go. [He exits.] + +PROSPERO +A devil, a born devil, on whose nature +Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, +Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; +And as with age his body uglier grows, +So his mind cankers. I will plague them all +Even to roaring. + +[Enter Ariel, loaden with glistering apparel, etc.] + +Come, hang them on this line. + +[Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet, as +Prospero and Ariel look on.] + + +CALIBAN Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole +may not hear a footfall. We now are near his cell. + +STEPHANO Monster, your fairy, which you say is a +harmless fairy, has done little better than played the +jack with us. + +TRINCULO Monster, I do smell all horse piss, at which +my nose is in great indignation. + +STEPHANO So is mine.--Do you hear, monster. If I +should take a displeasure against you, look you-- + +TRINCULO Thou wert but a lost monster. + +CALIBAN +Good my lord, give me thy favor still. +Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to +Shall hoodwink this mischance. Therefore speak +softly. +All's hushed as midnight yet. + +TRINCULO Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool! + +STEPHANO There is not only disgrace and dishonor in +that, monster, but an infinite loss. + +TRINCULO That's more to me than my wetting. Yet this +is your harmless fairy, monster! + +STEPHANO I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er +ears for my labor. + +CALIBAN +Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here, +This is the mouth o' th' cell. No noise, and enter. +Do that good mischief which may make this island +Thine own forever, and I, thy Caliban, +For aye thy foot-licker. + +STEPHANO Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody +thoughts. + +TRINCULO, [seeing the apparel] O King Stephano, O +peer, O worthy Stephano, look what a wardrobe +here is for thee! + +CALIBAN +Let it alone, thou fool. It is but trash. + +TRINCULO Oho, monster, we know what belongs to a +frippery. [He puts on one of the gowns.] O King +Stephano! + +STEPHANO Put off that gown, Trinculo. By this hand, +I'll have that gown. + +TRINCULO Thy Grace shall have it. + +CALIBAN +The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean +To dote thus on such luggage? Let 't alone, +And do the murder first. If he awake, +From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches, +Make us strange stuff. + +STEPHANO Be you quiet, monster.--Mistress Line, is +not this my jerkin? [He takes a jacket from the tree.] +Now is the jerkin under the line.--Now, jerkin, you +are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin. + +TRINCULO Do, do. We steal by line and level, an 't like +your Grace. + +STEPHANO I thank thee for that jest. Here's a garment +for 't. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king +of this country. "Steal by line and level" is an excellent +pass of pate. There's another garment for 't. + +TRINCULO Monster, come, put some lime upon your +fingers, and away with the rest. + +CALIBAN +I will have none on 't. We shall lose our time +And all be turned to barnacles or to apes +With foreheads villainous low. + +STEPHANO Monster, lay to your fingers. Help to bear +this away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn +you out of my kingdom. Go to, carry this. + +TRINCULO And this. + +STEPHANO Ay, and this. +[A noise of hunters heard.] + +[Enter divers spirits in shape of dogs and hounds, +hunting them about, Prospero and Ariel setting them on.] + + +PROSPERO Hey, Mountain, hey! + +ARIEL Silver! There it goes, Silver! + +PROSPERO +Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! Hark, hark! +[Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo are driven off.] +Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints +With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews +With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make +them +Than pard or cat o' mountain. + +ARIEL Hark, they roar. + +PROSPERO +Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour +Lies at my mercy all mine enemies. +Shortly shall all my labors end, and thou +Shalt have the air at freedom. For a little +Follow and do me service. +[They exit.] + + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Prospero in his magic robes, and Ariel.] + + +PROSPERO +Now does my project gather to a head. +My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time +Goes upright with his carriage.--How's the day? + +ARIEL +On the sixth hour, at which time, my lord, +You said our work should cease. + +PROSPERO I did say so +When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, +How fares the King and 's followers? + +ARIEL Confined +together +In the same fashion as you gave in charge, +Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, +In the line grove which weather-fends your cell. +They cannot budge till your release. The King, +His brother, and yours abide all three distracted, +And the remainder mourning over them, +Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly +Him that you termed, sir, the good old Lord +Gonzalo. +His tears runs down his beard like winter's drops +From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works +'em +That if you now beheld them, your affections +Would become tender. + +PROSPERO Dost thou think so, spirit? + +ARIEL +Mine would, sir, were I human. + +PROSPERO And mine shall. +Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling +Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, +One of their kind, that relish all as sharply +Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? +Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' +quick, +Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury +Do I take part. The rarer action is +In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, +The sole drift of my purpose doth extend +Not a frown further. Go, release them, Ariel. +My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, +And they shall be themselves. + +ARIEL I'll fetch them, sir. +[He exits.] + +[Prospero draws a large circle on the stage with his staff.] + + +PROSPERO +You elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves, +And you that on the sands with printless foot +Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him +When he comes back; you demi-puppets that +By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, +Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime +Is to make midnight mushrumps, that rejoice +To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, +Weak masters though you be, I have bedimmed +The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds, +And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault +Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder +Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak +With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory +Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up +The pine and cedar; graves at my command +Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth +By my so potent art. But this rough magic +I here abjure, and when I have required +Some heavenly music, which even now I do, +[Prospero gestures with his staff.] +To work mine end upon their senses that +This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, +Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, +And deeper than did ever plummet sound +I'll drown my book. [Solemn music.] + +[Here enters Ariel before; then Alonso with a frantic +gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and Antonio in +like manner attended by Adrian and Francisco. They all +enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there +stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks.] + +A solemn air, and the best comforter +To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains, +Now useless, boiled within thy skull. There stand, +For you are spell-stopped.-- +Holy Gonzalo, honorable man, +Mine eyes, e'en sociable to the show of thine, +Fall fellowly drops.--The charm dissolves apace, +And as the morning steals upon the night, +Melting the darkness, so their rising senses +Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle +Their clearer reason.--O good Gonzalo, +My true preserver and a loyal sir +To him thou follow'st, I will pay thy graces +Home, both in word and deed.--Most cruelly +Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter. +Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.-- +Thou art pinched for 't now, Sebastian.--Flesh and +blood, +You, brother mine, that entertained ambition, +Expelled remorse and nature, whom, with Sebastian, +Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, +Would here have killed your king, I do forgive thee, +Unnatural though thou art.--Their understanding +Begins to swell, and the approaching tide +Will shortly fill the reasonable shore +That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them +That yet looks on me or would know me.--Ariel, +Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell. +[Ariel exits and at once returns +with Prospero's ducal robes.] +I will discase me and myself present +As I was sometime Milan.--Quickly, spirit, +Thou shalt ere long be free. + +ARIEL [sings, and helps to attire him.] + + Where the bee sucks, there suck I. + In a cowslip's bell I lie. + There I couch when owls do cry. + On the bat's back I do fly + After summer merrily. + Merrily, merrily shall I live now + Under the blossom that hangs on the bow. + + +PROSPERO +Why, that's my dainty Ariel. I shall miss +Thee, but yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so. +To the King's ship, invisible as thou art. +There shalt thou find the mariners asleep +Under the hatches. The master and the boatswain +Being awake, enforce them to this place, +And presently, I prithee. + +ARIEL +I drink the air before me, and return +Or ere your pulse twice beat. [He exits.] + +GONZALO +All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement +Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us +Out of this fearful country! + +PROSPERO, [to Alonso] Behold, sir king, +The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero. +For more assurance that a living prince +Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body, +[He embraces Alonso.] +And to thee and thy company I bid +A hearty welcome. + +ALONSO Whe'er thou be'st he or no, +Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me +(As late I have been) I not know. Thy pulse +Beats as of flesh and blood; and since I saw thee, +Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which +I fear a madness held me. This must crave, +An if this be at all, a most strange story. +Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat +Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should +Prospero +Be living and be here? + +PROSPERO, [to Gonzalo] First, noble friend, +Let me embrace thine age, whose honor cannot +Be measured or confined. + +GONZALO Whether this be +Or be not, I'll not swear. + +PROSPERO You do yet taste +Some subtleties o' th' isle, that will not let you +Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all. +[Aside to Sebastian and Antonio.] But you, my brace +of lords, were I so minded, +I here could pluck his Highness' frown upon you +And justify you traitors. At this time +I will tell no tales. + +SEBASTIAN, [aside] The devil speaks in him. + +PROSPERO, [aside to Sebastian] No. +[To Antonio.] For you, most wicked sir, whom to +call brother +Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive +Thy rankest fault, all of them, and require +My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know +Thou must restore. + +ALONSO If thou be'st Prospero, +Give us particulars of thy preservation, +How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since +Were wracked upon this shore, where I have lost-- +How sharp the point of this remembrance is!-- +My dear son Ferdinand. + +PROSPERO I am woe for 't, sir. + +ALONSO +Irreparable is the loss, and patience +Says it is past her cure. + +PROSPERO I rather think +You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace, +For the like loss, I have her sovereign aid +And rest myself content. + +ALONSO You the like loss? + +PROSPERO +As great to me as late, and supportable +To make the dear loss have I means much weaker +Than you may call to comfort you, for I +Have lost my daughter. + +ALONSO A daughter? +O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, +The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish +Myself were mudded in that oozy bed +Where my son lies!--When did you lose your +daughter? + +PROSPERO +In this last tempest. I perceive these lords +At this encounter do so much admire +That they devour their reason, and scarce think +Their eyes do offices of truth, their words +Are natural breath.--But howsoe'er you have +Been justled from your senses, know for certain +That I am Prospero and that very duke +Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most +strangely +Upon this shore, where you were wracked, was +landed +To be the lord on 't. No more yet of this. +For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, +Not a relation for a breakfast, nor +Befitting this first meeting. [To Alonso.] Welcome, sir. +This cell's my court. Here have I few attendants, +And subjects none abroad. Pray you, look in. +My dukedom since you have given me again, +I will requite you with as good a thing, +At least bring forth a wonder to content you +As much as me my dukedom. +[Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda, +playing at chess.] + +MIRANDA, [to Ferdinand] +Sweet lord, you play me false. + +FERDINAND No, my dearest love, +I would not for the world. + +MIRANDA +Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, +And I would call it fair play. + +ALONSO If this prove +A vision of the island, one dear son +Shall I twice lose. + +SEBASTIAN A most high miracle! + +FERDINAND, [seeing Alonso and coming forward] +Though the seas threaten, they are merciful. +I have cursed them without cause. [He kneels.] + +ALONSO Now, all the +blessings +Of a glad father compass thee about! +Arise, and say how thou cam'st here. +[Ferdinand stands.] + +MIRANDA, [rising and coming forward] O wonder! +How many goodly creatures are there here! +How beauteous mankind is! O, brave new world +That has such people in 't! + +PROSPERO 'Tis new to thee. + +ALONSO, [to Ferdinand] +What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? +Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours. +Is she the goddess that hath severed us +And brought us thus together? + +FERDINAND Sir, she is mortal, +But by immortal providence she's mine. +I chose her when I could not ask my father +For his advice, nor thought I had one. She +Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, +Of whom so often I have heard renown, +But never saw before, of whom I have +Received a second life; and second father +This lady makes him to me. + +ALONSO I am hers. +But, O, how oddly will it sound that I +Must ask my child forgiveness! + +PROSPERO There, sir, stop. +Let us not burden our remembrances with +A heaviness that's gone. + +GONZALO I have inly wept +Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you +gods, +And on this couple drop a blessed crown, +For it is you that have chalked forth the way +Which brought us hither. + +ALONSO I say "Amen," Gonzalo. + +GONZALO +Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue +Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice +Beyond a common joy, and set it down +With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage +Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis, +And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife +Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom +In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves +When no man was his own. + +ALONSO, [to Ferdinand and Miranda] Give me your +hands. +Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart +That doth not wish you joy! + +GONZALO Be it so. Amen. + +[Enter Ariel, with the Master and Boatswain +amazedly following.] + +O, look, sir, look, sir, here is more of us. +I prophesied if a gallows were on land, +This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy, +That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on +shore? +Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news? + +BOATSWAIN +The best news is that we have safely found +Our king and company. The next: our ship, +Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split, +Is tight and yare and bravely rigged as when +We first put out to sea. + +ARIEL, [aside to Prospero] Sir, all this service +Have I done since I went. + +PROSPERO, [aside to Ariel] My tricksy spirit! + +ALONSO +These are not natural events. They strengthen +From strange to stranger.--Say, how came you +hither? + +BOATSWAIN +If I did think, sir, I were well awake, +I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep +And--how, we know not--all clapped under +hatches, +Where, but even now, with strange and several +noises +Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, +And more diversity of sounds, all horrible, +We were awaked, straightway at liberty, +Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld +Our royal, good, and gallant ship, our master +Cap'ring to eye her. On a trice, so please you, +Even in a dream were we divided from them +And were brought moping hither. + +ARIEL, [aside to Prospero] Was 't well done? + +PROSPERO, [aside to Ariel] +Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free. + +ALONSO +This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod, +And there is in this business more than nature +Was ever conduct of. Some oracle +Must rectify our knowledge. + +PROSPERO Sir, my liege, +Do not infest your mind with beating on +The strangeness of this business. At picked leisure, +Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you, +Which to you shall seem probable, of every +These happened accidents; till when, be cheerful +And think of each thing well. [Aside to Ariel.] +Come hither, spirit; +Set Caliban and his companions free. +Untie the spell. [Ariel exits.] How fares my gracious +sir? +There are yet missing of your company +Some few odd lads that you remember not. + +[Enter Ariel, driving in Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo +in their stolen apparel.] + + +STEPHANO Every man shift for all the rest, and let no +man take care for himself, for all is but fortune. +Coraggio, bully monster, coraggio. + +TRINCULO If these be true spies which I wear in my +head, here's a goodly sight. + +CALIBAN O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How +fine my master is! I am afraid he will chastise me. + +SEBASTIAN Ha, ha! +What things are these, my Lord Antonio? +Will money buy 'em? + +ANTONIO Very like. One of them +Is a plain fish and no doubt marketable. + +PROSPERO +Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, +Then say if they be true. This misshapen knave, +His mother was a witch, and one so strong +That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, +And deal in her command without her power. +These three have robbed me, and this demi-devil, +For he's a bastard one, had plotted with them +To take my life. Two of these fellows you +Must know and own. This thing of darkness I +Acknowledge mine. + +CALIBAN I shall be pinched to death. + +ALONSO +Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? + +SEBASTIAN He is drunk now. Where had he wine? + +ALONSO +And Trinculo is reeling ripe. Where should they +Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em? +[To Trinculo.] How cam'st thou in this pickle? + +TRINCULO I have been in such a pickle since I saw you +last that I fear me will never out of my bones. I +shall not fear flyblowing. + +SEBASTIAN Why, how now, Stephano? + +STEPHANO O, touch me not! I am not Stephano, but a +cramp. + +PROSPERO You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah? + +STEPHANO I should have been a sore one, then. + +ALONSO, [indicating Caliban] +This is as strange a thing as e'er I looked on. + +PROSPERO +He is as disproportioned in his manners +As in his shape. [To Caliban.] Go, sirrah, to my cell. +Take with you your companions. As you look +To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. + +CALIBAN +Ay, that I will, and I'll be wise hereafter +And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass +Was I to take this drunkard for a god, +And worship this dull fool! + +PROSPERO Go to, away! + +ALONSO, [to Stephano and Trinculo] +Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. + +SEBASTIAN Or stole it, rather. +[Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo exit.] + +PROSPERO +Sir, I invite your Highness and your train +To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest +For this one night, which part of it I'll waste +With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it +Go quick away: the story of my life +And the particular accidents gone by +Since I came to this isle. And in the morn +I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, +Where I have hope to see the nuptial +Of these our dear-beloved solemnized, +And thence retire me to my Milan, where +Every third thought shall be my grave. + +ALONSO I long +To hear the story of your life, which must +Take the ear strangely. + +PROSPERO I'll deliver all, +And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, +And sail so expeditious that shall catch +Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to Ariel.] My Ariel, +chick, +That is thy charge. Then to the elements +Be free, and fare thou well.--Please you, draw near. +[They all exit.] + +EPILOGUE, +[spoken by Prospero.] +============================ + + +Now my charms are all o'erthrown, +And what strength I have 's mine own, +Which is most faint. Now 'tis true +I must be here confined by you, +Or sent to Naples. Let me not, +Since I have my dukedom got +And pardoned the deceiver, dwell +In this bare island by your spell, +But release me from my bands +With the help of your good hands. +Gentle breath of yours my sails +Must fill, or else my project fails, +Which was to please. Now I want +Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, +And my ending is despair, +Unless I be relieved by prayer, +Which pierces so that it assaults +Mercy itself, and frees all faults. + As you from crimes would pardoned be, + Let your indulgence set me free. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-two-gentlemen-of-verona_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-two-gentlemen-of-verona_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7bccae1 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-two-gentlemen-of-verona_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3872 @@ +The Two Gentlemen of Verona +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-two-gentlemen-of-verona/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +VALENTINE, a gentleman of Verona +SPEED, his servant +PROTEUS, a gentleman of Verona +LANCE, his servant +ANTONIO, Proteus' father +PANTINO, an attendant to Antonio +JULIA, a lady of Verona +LUCETTA, her waiting-gentlewoman +SYLVIA, a lady of Milan +DUKE (sometimes Emperor), Sylvia's father +THURIO, a gentleman +EGLAMOUR, a gentleman +HOST, proprietor of an inn in Milan +OUTLAWS, living in a forest near Mantua +Servants; Musicians; Crab, a dog + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Valentine and Proteus.] + + +VALENTINE +Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus. +Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. +Were 't not affection chains thy tender days +To the sweet glances of thy honored love, +I rather would entreat thy company +To see the wonders of the world abroad +Than, living dully sluggardized at home, +Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. +But since thou lov'st, love still and thrive therein, +Even as I would when I to love begin. + +PROTEUS +Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu. +Think on thy Proteus when thou haply seest +Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel. +Wish me partaker in thy happiness +When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, +If ever danger do environ thee, +Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, +For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine. + +VALENTINE +And on a love-book pray for my success? + +PROTEUS +Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee. + +VALENTINE +That's on some shallow story of deep love, +How young Leander crossed the Hellespont. + +PROTEUS +That's a deep story of a deeper love, +For he was more than over shoes in love. + +VALENTINE +'Tis true, for you are over boots in love, +And yet you never swam the Hellespont. + +PROTEUS +Over the boots? Nay, give me not the boots. + +VALENTINE +No, I will not, for it boots thee not. + +PROTEUS What? + +VALENTINE +To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans, +Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading +moment's mirth +With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights; +If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; +If lost, why then a grievous labor won; +How ever, but a folly bought with wit, +Or else a wit by folly vanquished. + +PROTEUS +So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. + +VALENTINE +So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. + +PROTEUS +'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. + +VALENTINE +Love is your master, for he masters you; +And he that is so yoked by a fool +Methinks should not be chronicled for wise. + +PROTEUS +Yet writers say: as in the sweetest bud +The eating canker dwells, so eating love +Inhabits in the finest wits of all. + +VALENTINE +And writers say: as the most forward bud +Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, +Even so by love the young and tender wit +Is turned to folly, blasting in the bud, +Losing his verdure, even in the prime, +And all the fair effects of future hopes. +But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee +That art a votary to fond desire? +Once more adieu. My father at the road +Expects my coming, there to see me shipped. + +PROTEUS +And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. + +VALENTINE +Sweet Proteus, no. Now let us take our leave. +To Milan let me hear from thee by letters +Of thy success in love, and what news else +Betideth here in absence of thy friend. +And I likewise will visit thee with mine. + +PROTEUS +All happiness bechance to thee in Milan. + +VALENTINE +As much to you at home. And so farewell. [He exits.] + +PROTEUS +He after honor hunts, I after love. +He leaves his friends, to dignify them more; +I leave myself, my friends, and all, for love. +Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me, +Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, +War with good counsel, set the world at nought; +Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought. + +[Enter Speed.] + + +SPEED +Sir Proteus, 'save you. Saw you my master? + +PROTEUS +But now he parted hence to embark for Milan. + +SPEED +Twenty to one, then, he is shipped already, +And I have played the sheep in losing him. + +PROTEUS +Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, +An if the shepherd be awhile away. + +SPEED You conclude that my master is a shepherd, +then, and I a sheep? + +PROTEUS I do. + +SPEED Why, then my horns are his horns, whether I +wake or sleep. + +PROTEUS A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. + +SPEED This proves me still a sheep. + +PROTEUS True, and thy master a shepherd. + +SPEED Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. + +PROTEUS It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another. + +SPEED The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the +sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my +master seeks not me. Therefore I am no sheep. + +PROTEUS The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the +shepherd for food follows not the sheep. Thou for +wages followest thy master; thy master for wages +follows not thee. Therefore thou art a sheep. + +SPEED Such another proof will make me cry "baa." + +PROTEUS But dost thou hear? Gav'st thou my letter to +Julia? + +SPEED Ay, sir. I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a +laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a +lost mutton, nothing for my labor. + +PROTEUS Here's too small a pasture for such store of +muttons. + +SPEED If the ground be overcharged, you were best +stick her. + +PROTEUS Nay, in that you are astray; 'twere best pound +you. + +SPEED Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for +carrying your letter. + +PROTEUS You mistake; I mean the pound, a pinfold. + +SPEED +From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over, +'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your +lover. + +PROTEUS But what said she? + +SPEED, [nodding] Ay. + +PROTEUS Nod--"Ay." Why, that's "noddy." + +SPEED You mistook, sir. I say she did nod, and you ask +me if she did nod, and I say "ay." + +PROTEUS And that set together is "noddy." + +SPEED Now you have taken the pains to set it together, +take it for your pains. + +PROTEUS No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter. + +SPEED Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. + +PROTEUS Why, sir, how do you bear with me? + +SPEED Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly, having nothing +but the word "noddy" for my pains. + +PROTEUS Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. + +SPEED And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. + +PROTEUS Come, come, open the matter in brief. What +said she? + +SPEED Open your purse, that the money and the matter +may be both at once delivered. + +PROTEUS, [giving money] Well, sir, here is for your +pains. What said she? + +SPEED, [looking at the money] Truly, sir, I think you'll +hardly win her. + +PROTEUS Why? Couldst thou perceive so much from +her? + +SPEED Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her, no, +not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter. +And being so hard to me that brought your mind, I +fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. +Give her no token but stones, for she's as hard as +steel. + +PROTEUS What said she? Nothing? + +SPEED No, not so much as "Take this for thy pains." +To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have +testerned me. In requital whereof, henceforth +carry your letters yourself. And so, sir, I'll commend +you to my master. + +PROTEUS +Go, go, begone, to save your ship from wrack, +Which cannot perish having thee aboard, +Being destined to a drier death on shore. +[Speed exits.] +I must go send some better messenger. +I fear my Julia would not deign my lines, +Receiving them from such a worthless post. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Julia and Lucetta.] + + +JULIA +But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, +Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? + +LUCETTA +Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. + +JULIA +Of all the fair resort of gentlemen +That every day with parle encounter me, +In thy opinion which is worthiest love? + +LUCETTA +Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind +According to my shallow simple skill. + +JULIA +What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? + +LUCETTA +As of a knight well-spoken, neat, and fine; +But, were I you, he never should be mine. + +JULIA +What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? + +LUCETTA +Well of his wealth, but of himself so-so. + +JULIA +What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? + +LUCETTA +Lord, Lord, to see what folly reigns in us! + +JULIA +How now? What means this passion at his name? + +LUCETTA +Pardon, dear madam, 'tis a passing shame +That I, unworthy body as I am, +Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. + +JULIA +Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? + +LUCETTA +Then thus: of many good, I think him best. + +JULIA Your reason? + +LUCETTA +I have no other but a woman's reason: +I think him so because I think him so. + +JULIA +And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? + +LUCETTA +Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. + +JULIA +Why, he of all the rest hath never moved me. + +LUCETTA +Yet he of all the rest I think best loves you. + +JULIA +His little speaking shows his love but small. + +LUCETTA +Fire that's closest kept burns most of all. + +JULIA +They do not love that do not show their love. + +LUCETTA +O, they love least that let men know their love. + +JULIA I would I knew his mind. + +LUCETTA, [handing her a paper] Peruse this paper, +madam. + +JULIA [reads] "To Julia."--Say from whom. + +LUCETTA That the contents will show. + +JULIA Say, say who gave it thee. + +LUCETTA +Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from +Proteus. +He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, +Did in your name receive it. Pardon the fault, I pray. + +JULIA +Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! +Dare you presume to harbor wanton lines? +To whisper and conspire against my youth? +Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, +And you an officer fit for the place. +There, take the paper; see it be returned, +Or else return no more into my sight. + +LUCETTA, [taking the paper] +To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. + +JULIA +Will you be gone? + +LUCETTA That you may ruminate. [She exits.] + +JULIA +And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter. +It were a shame to call her back again +And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. +What fool is she that knows I am a maid +And would not force the letter to my view, +Since maids in modesty say "no" to that +Which they would have the profferer construe "ay"! +Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love +That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse +And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! +How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, +When willingly I would have had her here! +How angerly I taught my brow to frown, +When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! +My penance is to call Lucetta back +And ask remission for my folly past.-- +What ho, Lucetta! + +[Enter Lucetta.] + + +LUCETTA What would your Ladyship? + +JULIA +Is 't near dinner time? + +LUCETTA I would it were, +That you might kill your stomach on your meat +And not upon your maid. +[She drops a paper and then retrieves it.] + +JULIA +What is 't that you took up so gingerly? + +LUCETTA Nothing. + +JULIA Why didst thou stoop, then? + +LUCETTA +To take a paper up that I let fall. + +JULIA And is that paper nothing? + +LUCETTA Nothing concerning me. + +JULIA +Then let it lie for those that it concerns. + +LUCETTA +Madam, it will not lie where it concerns +Unless it have a false interpreter. + +JULIA +Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. + +LUCETTA +That I might sing it, madam, to a tune, +Give me a note. Your Ladyship can set-- + +JULIA +As little by such toys as may be possible. +Best sing it to the tune of "Light o' Love." + +LUCETTA +It is too heavy for so light a tune. + +JULIA +Heavy? Belike it hath some burden then? + +LUCETTA +Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it. + +JULIA +And why not you? + +LUCETTA I cannot reach so high. + +JULIA, [taking the paper] +Let's see your song. How now, minion! + +LUCETTA +Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out. +And yet methinks I do not like this tune. + +JULIA You do not? + +LUCETTA No, madam, 'tis too sharp. + +JULIA You, minion, are too saucy. + +LUCETTA Nay, now you are too flat +And mar the concord with too harsh a descant. +There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. + +JULIA +The mean is drowned with your unruly bass. + +LUCETTA +Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. + +JULIA +This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. +Here is a coil with protestation. +[She rips up the paper. Lucetta begins +to pick up the pieces.] +Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie. +You would be fing'ring them to anger me. + +LUCETTA +She makes it strange, but she would be best pleased +To be so angered with another letter. [She exits.] + +JULIA +Nay, would I were so angered with the same! +O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! +Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey +And kill the bees that yield it with your stings! +I'll kiss each several paper for amends. +[She picks up some pieces.] +Look, here is writ "kind Julia." Unkind Julia, +As in revenge of thy ingratitude, +I throw thy name against the bruising stones, +Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. +And here is writ "love-wounded Proteus." +Poor wounded name, my bosom as a bed +Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly healed, +And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. +But twice or thrice was "Proteus" written down. +Be calm, good wind. Blow not a word away +Till I have found each letter in the letter +Except mine own name. That some whirlwind bear +Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock +And throw it thence into the raging sea. +Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ: +"Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, +To the sweet Julia." That I'll tear away-- +And yet I will not, sith so prettily +He couples it to his complaining names. +Thus will I fold them one upon another. +Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will. + +[Enter Lucetta.] + + +LUCETTA +Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays. + +JULIA Well, let us go. + +LUCETTA +What, shall these papers lie like telltales here? + +JULIA +If you respect them, best to take them up. + +LUCETTA +Nay, I was taken up for laying them down. +Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. +[She picks up the rest of the pieces.] + +JULIA +I see you have a month's mind to them. + +LUCETTA +Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; +I see things too, although you judge I wink. + +JULIA Come, come, will 't please you go? +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Antonio and Pantino.] + + +ANTONIO +Tell me, Pantino, what sad talk was that +Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? + +PANTINO +'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. + +ANTONIO +Why, what of him? + +PANTINO He wondered that your Lordship +Would suffer him to spend his youth at home +While other men, of slender reputation, +Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: +Some to the wars to try their fortune there, +Some to discover islands far away, +Some to the studious universities. +For any or for all these exercises +He said that Proteus your son was meet, +And did request me to importune you +To let him spend his time no more at home, +Which would be great impeachment to his age +In having known no travel in his youth. + +ANTONIO +Nor need'st thou much importune me to that +Whereon this month I have been hammering. +I have considered well his loss of time +And how he cannot be a perfect man, +Not being tried and tutored in the world. +Experience is by industry achieved +And perfected by the swift course of time. +Then tell me whither were I best to send him. + +PANTINO +I think your Lordship is not ignorant +How his companion, youthful Valentine, +Attends the Emperor in his royal court. + +ANTONIO I know it well. + +PANTINO +'Twere good, I think, your Lordship sent him thither. +There shall he practice tilts and tournaments, +Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, +And be in eye of every exercise +Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. + +ANTONIO +I like thy counsel. Well hast thou advised, +And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it, +The execution of it shall make known. +Even with the speediest expedition +I will dispatch him to the Emperor's court. + +PANTINO +Tomorrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, +With other gentlemen of good esteem, +Are journeying to salute the Emperor +And to commend their service to his will. + +ANTONIO +Good company. With them shall Proteus go. + +[Enter Proteus reading.] + +And in good time! Now will we break with him. + +PROTEUS, [to himself] +Sweet love, sweet lines, sweet life! +Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; +Here is her oath for love, her honor's pawn. +O, that our fathers would applaud our loves +To seal our happiness with their consents. +O heavenly Julia! + +ANTONIO +How now? What letter are you reading there? + +PROTEUS +May 't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two +Of commendations sent from Valentine, +Delivered by a friend that came from him. + +ANTONIO +Lend me the letter. Let me see what news. + +PROTEUS +There is no news, my lord, but that he writes +How happily he lives, how well beloved +And daily graced by the Emperor, +Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. + +ANTONIO +And how stand you affected to his wish? + +PROTEUS +As one relying on your Lordship's will, +And not depending on his friendly wish. + +ANTONIO +My will is something sorted with his wish. +Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed, +For what I will, I will, and there an end. +I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time +With Valentinus in the Emperor's court. +What maintenance he from his friends receives, +Like exhibition thou shalt have from me. +Tomorrow be in readiness to go. +Excuse it not, for I am peremptory. + +PROTEUS +My lord, I cannot be so soon provided. +Please you deliberate a day or two. + +ANTONIO +Look what thou want'st shall be sent after thee. +No more of stay. Tomorrow thou must go.-- +Come on, Pantino; you shall be employed +To hasten on his expedition. +[Antonio and Pantino exit.] + +PROTEUS +Thus have I shunned the fire for fear of burning +And drenched me in the sea, where I am drowned. +I feared to show my father Julia's letter +Lest he should take exceptions to my love, +And with the vantage of mine own excuse +Hath he excepted most against my love. +O, how this spring of love resembleth +The uncertain glory of an April day, +Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, +And by and by a cloud takes all away. + +[Enter Pantino.] + + +PANTINO +Sir Proteus, your father calls for you. +He is in haste. Therefore, I pray you, go. + +PROTEUS +Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto. +[Aside.] And yet a thousand times it answers "no." +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Valentine and Speed, carrying a glove.] + + +SPEED +Sir, your glove. + +VALENTINE Not mine. My gloves are on. + +SPEED +Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one. + +VALENTINE +Ha? Let me see. Ay, give it me, it's mine. +Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! +Ah, Sylvia, Sylvia! + +SPEED, [calling] Madam Sylvia! Madam Sylvia! + +VALENTINE How now, sirrah? + +SPEED She is not within hearing, sir. + +VALENTINE Why, sir, who bade you call her? + +SPEED Your Worship, sir, or else I mistook. + +VALENTINE Well, you'll still be too forward. + +SPEED And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. + +VALENTINE Go to, sir. Tell me, do you know Madam +Sylvia? + +SPEED She that your Worship loves? + +VALENTINE Why, how know you that I am in love? + +SPEED Marry, by these special marks: first, you have +learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms like +a malcontent; to relish a love song like a robin +redbreast; to walk alone like one that had the +pestilence; to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his +ABC; to weep like a young wench that had buried +her grandam; to fast like one that takes diet; to +watch like one that fears robbing; to speak puling +like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when +you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, +to walk like one of the lions. When you fasted, it was +presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it +was for want of money. And now you are metamorphosed +with a mistress, that when I look on you, I +can hardly think you my master. + +VALENTINE Are all these things perceived in me? + +SPEED They are all perceived without you. + +VALENTINE Without me? They cannot. + +SPEED Without you? Nay, that's certain, for without +you were so simple, none else would. But you are so +without these follies, that these follies are within +you and shine through you like the water in an +urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a +physician to comment on your malady. + +VALENTINE But tell me, dost thou know my Lady +Sylvia? + +SPEED She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper? + +VALENTINE Hast thou observed that? Even she I mean. + +SPEED Why, sir, I know her not. + +VALENTINE Dost thou know her by my gazing on her +and yet know'st her not? + +SPEED Is she not hard-favored, sir? + +VALENTINE Not so fair, boy, as well-favored. + +SPEED Sir, I know that well enough. + +VALENTINE What dost thou know? + +SPEED That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favored. + +VALENTINE I mean that her beauty is exquisite but her +favor infinite. + +SPEED That's because the one is painted, and the other +out of all count. + +VALENTINE How painted? And how out of count? + +SPEED Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no +man counts of her beauty. + +VALENTINE How esteem'st thou me? I account of her +beauty. + +SPEED You never saw her since she was deformed. + +VALENTINE How long hath she been deformed? + +SPEED Ever since you loved her. + +VALENTINE I have loved her ever since I saw her, and +still I see her beautiful. + +SPEED If you love her, you cannot see her. + +VALENTINE Why? + +SPEED Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes, +or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to +have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going +ungartered! + +VALENTINE What should I see then? + +SPEED Your own present folly and her passing deformity; +for he, being in love, could not see to garter his +hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on +your hose. + +VALENTINE Belike, boy, then you are in love, for last +morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. + +SPEED True, sir, I was in love with my bed. I thank you, +you swinged me for my love, which makes me the +bolder to chide you for yours. + +VALENTINE In conclusion, I stand affected to her. + +SPEED I would you were set, so your affection would +cease. + +VALENTINE Last night she enjoined me to write some +lines to one she loves. + +SPEED And have you? + +VALENTINE I have. + +SPEED Are they not lamely writ? + +VALENTINE No, boy, but as well as I can do them. +Peace, here she comes. + +[Enter Sylvia.] + + +SPEED, [aside] O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! +Now will he interpret to her. + +VALENTINE Madam and mistress, a thousand +good-morrows. + +SPEED, [aside] O, give ye good ev'n! Here's a million of +manners. + +SYLVIA Sir Valentine, and servant, to you two +thousand. + +SPEED, [aside] He should give her interest, and she +gives it him. + +VALENTINE +As you enjoined me, I have writ your letter +Unto the secret, nameless friend of yours, +Which I was much unwilling to proceed in +But for my duty to your Ladyship. +[He gives her a paper.] + +SYLVIA +I thank you, gentle servant, 'tis very clerkly done. + +VALENTINE +Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off, +For, being ignorant to whom it goes, +I writ at random, very doubtfully. + +SYLVIA +Perchance you think too much of so much pains? + +VALENTINE +No, madam. So it stead you, I will write, +Please you command, a thousand times as much, +And yet-- + +SYLVIA +A pretty period. Well, I guess the sequel; +And yet I will not name it And yet I care not. +And yet take this again. [She holds out the paper.] +And yet I thank you, +Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. + +SPEED, [aside] +And yet you will; and yet another "yet." + +VALENTINE +What means your Ladyship? Do you not like it? + +SYLVIA +Yes, yes, the lines are very quaintly writ, +But, since unwillingly, take them again. +Nay, take them. [She again offers him the paper.] + +VALENTINE Madam, they are for you. + +SYLVIA +Ay, ay. You writ them, sir, at my request, +But I will none of them. They are for you. +I would have had them writ more movingly. + +VALENTINE, [taking the paper] +Please you, I'll write your Ladyship another. + +SYLVIA +And when it's writ, for my sake read it over, +And if it please you, so; if not, why, so. + +VALENTINE If it please me, madam? What then? + +SYLVIA +Why, if it please you, take it for your labor. +And so good-morrow, servant. [Sylvia exits.] + +SPEED, [aside] +O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible +As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a +steeple! +My master sues to her, and she hath taught her +suitor, +He being her pupil, to become her tutor. +O excellent device! Was there ever heard a better? +That my master, being scribe, to himself should +write the letter? + +VALENTINE How now, sir? What, are you reasoning +with yourself? + +SPEED Nay, I was rhyming. 'Tis you that have the +reason. + +VALENTINE To do what? + +SPEED To be a spokesman from Madam Sylvia. + +VALENTINE To whom? + +SPEED To yourself. Why, she woos you by a figure. + +VALENTINE What figure? + +SPEED By a letter, I should say. + +VALENTINE Why, she hath not writ to me! + +SPEED What need she when she hath made you write +to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? + +VALENTINE No, believe me. + +SPEED No believing you indeed, sir. But did you perceive +her earnest? + +VALENTINE She gave me none, except an angry word. + +SPEED Why, she hath given you a letter. + +VALENTINE That's the letter I writ to her friend. + +SPEED And that letter hath she delivered, and there an +end. + +VALENTINE I would it were no worse. + +SPEED I'll warrant you, 'tis as well. +For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty +Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply, +Or fearing else some messenger that might her +mind discover, +Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto +her lover. +All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why +muse you, sir? 'Tis dinnertime. + +VALENTINE I have dined. + +SPEED Ay, but hearken, sir, though the chameleon love +can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by +my victuals and would fain have meat. O, be not like +your mistress! Be moved, be moved. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Proteus and Julia.] + + +PROTEUS Have patience, gentle Julia. + +JULIA I must where is no remedy. + +PROTEUS +When possibly I can, I will return. + +JULIA +If you turn not, you will return the sooner. +Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. +[She gives him a ring.] + +PROTEUS, [giving her a ring] +Why, then we'll make exchange. Here, take you this. + +JULIA +And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. + +PROTEUS +Here is my hand for my true constancy. +And when that hour o'erslips me in the day +Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, +The next ensuing hour some foul mischance +Torment me for my love's forgetfulness. +My father stays my coming. Answer not. +The tide is now--nay, not thy tide of tears; +That tide will stay me longer than I should. +Julia, farewell. [Julia exits.] +What, gone without a word? +Ay, so true love should do. It cannot speak, +For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it. + +[Enter Pantino.] + + +PANTINO Sir Proteus, you are stayed for. + +PROTEUS Go. I come, I come. +[Aside.] Alas, this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lance, weeping, with his dog, Crab.] + + +LANCE Nay,'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. +All the kind of the Lances have this very fault. I have +received my proportion like the Prodigious Son and +am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I +think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that +lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my +sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing +her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, +yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear. He +is a stone, a very pibble stone, and has no more pity +in him than a dog. A Jew would have wept to have +seen our parting. Why, my grandam, having no +eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. +Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. [He takes off his +shoes.] This shoe is my father. No, this left shoe is +my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother. Nay, +that cannot be so neither. Yes, it is so, it is so; it hath +the worser sole. This shoe with the hole in it is my +mother; and this my father. A vengeance on 't, there +'tis! Now sir, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she +is as white as a lily and as small as a wand. This hat +is Nan, our maid. I am the dog. No, the dog is +himself, and I am the dog. O, the dog is me, and I +am myself. Ay, so, so. Now come I to my father: +"Father, your blessing." Now should not the shoe +speak a word for weeping. Now should I kiss my +father. [He kisses one shoe.] Well, he weeps on. Now +come I to my mother. O, that she could speak now +like a wold woman! Well, I kiss her. [He kisses the +other shoe.] Why, there 'tis; here's my mother's +breath up and down. Now come I to my sister. Mark +the moan she makes! Now the dog all this while +sheds not a tear nor speaks a word. But see how I +lay the dust with my tears. + +[Enter Pantino.] + + +PANTINO Lance, away, away! Aboard. Thy master is +shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's +the matter? Why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass. +You'll lose the tide if you tarry any longer. + +LANCE It is no matter if the tied were lost, for it is the +unkindest tied that ever any man tied. + +PANTINO What's the unkindest tide? + +LANCE Why, he that's tied here, Crab my dog. + +PANTINO Tut, man. I mean thou 'lt lose the flood and, in +losing the flood, lose thy voyage and, in losing thy +voyage, lose thy master and, in losing thy master, +lose thy service and, in losing thy service--[Lance +covers Pantino's mouth.] Why dost thou stop my +mouth? + +LANCE For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. + +PANTINO Where should I lose my tongue? + +LANCE In thy tale. + +PANTINO In thy tail! + +LANCE Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, +and the service, and the tied. Why, man, if the river +were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the +wind were down, I could drive the boat with my +sighs. + +PANTINO Come. Come away, man. I was sent to call +thee. + +LANCE Sir, call me what thou dar'st. + +PANTINO Wilt thou go? + +LANCE Well, I will go. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Valentine, Sylvia, Thurio, and Speed.] + + +SYLVIA Servant! + +VALENTINE Mistress? + +SPEED Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. + +VALENTINE Ay, boy, it's for love. + +SPEED Not of you. + +VALENTINE Of my mistress, then. + +SPEED 'Twere good you knocked him. + +SYLVIA, [to Valentine] Servant, you are sad. + +VALENTINE Indeed, madam, I seem so. + +THURIO Seem you that you are not? + +VALENTINE Haply I do. + +THURIO So do counterfeits. + +VALENTINE So do you. + +THURIO What seem I that I am not? + +VALENTINE Wise. + +THURIO What instance of the contrary? + +VALENTINE Your folly. + +THURIO And how quote you my folly? + +VALENTINE I quote it in your jerkin. + +THURIO My "jerkin" is a doublet. + +VALENTINE Well, then, I'll double your folly. + +THURIO How! + +SYLVIA What, angry, Sir Thurio? Do you change color? + +VALENTINE Give him leave, madam. He is a kind of +chameleon. + +THURIO That hath more mind to feed on your blood +than live in your air. + +VALENTINE You have said, sir. + +THURIO Ay, sir, and done too for this time. + +VALENTINE I know it well, sir. You always end ere you +begin. + +SYLVIA A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly +shot off. + +VALENTINE 'Tis indeed, madam. We thank the giver. + +SYLVIA Who is that, servant? + +VALENTINE Yourself, sweet lady, for you gave the fire. +Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladyship's +looks and spends what he borrows kindly in your +company. + +THURIO Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall +make your wit bankrupt. + +VALENTINE I know it well, sir. You have an exchequer +of words and, I think, no other treasure to give your +followers, for it appears by their bare liveries that +they live by your bare words. + +SYLVIA +No more, gentlemen, no more. Here comes my +father. + +[Enter Duke.] + + +DUKE +Now, daughter Sylvia, you are hard beset.-- +Sir Valentine, your father is in good health. +What say you to a letter from your friends +Of much good news? + +VALENTINE My lord, I will be thankful +To any happy messenger from thence. + +DUKE +Know you Don Antonio, your countryman? + +VALENTINE +Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman +To be of worth and worthy estimation, +And not without desert so well reputed. + +DUKE Hath he not a son? + +VALENTINE +Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves +The honor and regard of such a father. + +DUKE You know him well? + +VALENTINE +I knew him as myself, for from our infancy +We have conversed and spent our hours together, +And though myself have been an idle truant, +Omitting the sweet benefit of time +To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, +Yet hath Sir Proteus--for that's his name-- +Made use and fair advantage of his days: +His years but young, but his experience old; +His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe; +And in a word--for far behind his worth +Comes all the praises that I now bestow-- +He is complete in feature and in mind, +With all good grace to grace a gentleman. + +DUKE +Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good, +He is as worthy for an empress' love, +As meet to be an emperor's counselor. +Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me +With commendation from great potentates, +And here he means to spend his time awhile. +I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you. + +VALENTINE +Should I have wished a thing, it had been he. + +DUKE +Welcome him then according to his worth. +Sylvia, I speak to you--and you, Sir Thurio. +For Valentine, I need not cite him to it. +I will send him hither to you presently. [Duke exits.] + +VALENTINE +This is the gentleman I told your Ladyship +Had come along with me but that his mistress +Did hold his eyes locked in her crystal looks. + +SYLVIA +Belike that now she hath enfranchised them +Upon some other pawn for fealty. + +VALENTINE +Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. + +SYLVIA +Nay, then, he should be blind, and being blind +How could he see his way to seek out you? + +VALENTINE +Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. + +THURIO +They say that Love hath not an eye at all. + +VALENTINE +To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself. +Upon a homely object, Love can wink. + +SYLVIA +Have done, have done. Here comes the gentleman. + +[Enter Proteus.] + + +VALENTINE +Welcome, dear Proteus.--Mistress, I beseech you +Confirm his welcome with some special favor. + +SYLVIA +His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, +If this be he you oft have wished to hear from. + +VALENTINE +Mistress, it is. Sweet lady, entertain him +To be my fellow-servant to your Ladyship. + +SYLVIA +Too low a mistress for so high a servant. + +PROTEUS +Not so, sweet lady, but too mean a servant +To have a look of such a worthy mistress. + +VALENTINE +Leave off discourse of disability. +Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. + +PROTEUS +My duty will I boast of, nothing else. + +SYLVIA +And duty never yet did want his meed. +Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. + +PROTEUS +I'll die on him that says so but yourself. + +SYLVIA That you are welcome? + +PROTEUS That you are worthless. + +[Enter Servant.] + + +SERVANT +Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. + +SYLVIA +I wait upon his pleasure. [Servant exits.] Come, Sir +Thurio, +Go with me.--Once more, new servant, welcome. +I'll leave you to confer of home affairs. +When you have done, we look to hear from you. + +PROTEUS +We'll both attend upon your Ladyship. +[Sylvia and Thurio exit.] + +VALENTINE +Now tell me, how do all from whence you came? + +PROTEUS +Your friends are well and have them much +commended. + +VALENTINE +And how do yours? + +PROTEUS I left them all in health. + +VALENTINE +How does your lady? And how thrives your love? + +PROTEUS +My tales of love were wont to weary you. +I know you joy not in a love discourse. + +VALENTINE +Ay, Proteus, but that life is altered now. +I have done penance for contemning Love, +Whose high imperious thoughts have punished me +With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, +With nightly tears, and daily heartsore sighs, +For in revenge of my contempt of love, +Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes +And made them watchers of mine own heart's +sorrow. +O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord +And hath so humbled me as I confess +There is no woe to his correction, +Nor, to his service, no such joy on Earth. +Now, no discourse except it be of love. +Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep +Upon the very naked name of Love. + +PROTEUS +Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. +Was this the idol that you worship so? + +VALENTINE +Even she. And is she not a heavenly saint? + +PROTEUS +No, but she is an earthly paragon. + +VALENTINE +Call her divine. + +PROTEUS I will not flatter her. + +VALENTINE +O, flatter me, for love delights in praises. + +PROTEUS +When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills, +And I must minister the like to you. + +VALENTINE +Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, +Yet let her be a principality, +Sovereign to all the creatures on the Earth. + +PROTEUS +Except my mistress. + +VALENTINE Sweet, except not any, +Except thou wilt except against my love. + +PROTEUS +Have I not reason to prefer mine own? + +VALENTINE +And I will help thee to prefer her too: +She shall be dignified with this high honor-- +To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth +Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss +And, of so great a favor growing proud, +Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower +And make rough winter everlastingly. + +PROTEUS +Why, Valentine, what braggartism is this? + +VALENTINE +Pardon me, Proteus, all I can is nothing +To her whose worth makes other worthies +nothing. +She is alone-- + +PROTEUS Then let her alone. + +VALENTINE +Not for the world! Why, man, she is mine own, +And I as rich in having such a jewel +As twenty seas if all their sand were pearl, +The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. +Forgive me that I do not dream on thee, +Because thou seest me dote upon my love. +My foolish rival, that her father likes +Only for his possessions are so huge, +Is gone with her along, and I must after, +For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy. + +PROTEUS But she loves you? + +VALENTINE +Ay, and we are betrothed; nay more, our marriage +hour, +With all the cunning manner of our flight +Determined of: how I must climb her window, +The ladder made of cords, and all the means +Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness. +Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber, +In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. + +PROTEUS +Go on before. I shall inquire you forth. +I must unto the road to disembark +Some necessaries that I needs must use, +And then I'll presently attend you. + +VALENTINE Will you make haste? + +PROTEUS I will. [Valentine and Speed exit.] +Even as one heat another heat expels, +Or as one nail by strength drives out another, +So the remembrance of my former love +Is by a newer object quite forgotten. +Is it mine eye, or Valentine's praise, +Her true perfection, or my false transgression, +That makes me reasonless to reason thus? +She is fair, and so is Julia that I love-- +That I did love, for now my love is thawed, +Which like a waxen image 'gainst a fire +Bears no impression of the thing it was. +Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold, +And that I love him not as I was wont. +O, but I love his lady too too much, +And that's the reason I love him so little. +How shall I dote on her with more advice +That thus without advice begin to love her? +'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld, +And that hath dazzled my reason's light; +But when I look on her perfections, +There is no reason but I shall be blind. +If I can check my erring love, I will; +If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Speed and Lance, with his dog, Crab.] + + +SPEED Lance, by mine honesty, welcome to Padua. + +LANCE Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not +welcome. I reckon this always: that a man is never +undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a +place till some certain shot be paid and the Hostess +say welcome. + +SPEED Come on, you madcap. I'll to the alehouse with +you presently, where, for one shot of five pence, +thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, +how did thy master part with Madam Julia? + +LANCE Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted +very fairly in jest. + +SPEED But shall she marry him? + +LANCE No. + +SPEED How then? Shall he marry her? + +LANCE No, neither. + +SPEED What, are they broken? + +LANCE No, they are both as whole as a fish. + +SPEED Why then, how stands the matter with them? + +LANCE Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it +stands well with her. + +SPEED What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. + +LANCE What a block art thou that thou canst not! My +staff understands me. + +SPEED What thou sayst? + +LANCE Ay, and what I do too. Look thee, I'll but lean, +and my staff understands me. + +SPEED It stands under thee indeed. + +LANCE Why, "stand under" and "understand" is all +one. + +SPEED But tell me true, will 't be a match? + +LANCE Ask my dog. If he say "Ay," it will; if he say +"No," it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it +will. + +SPEED The conclusion is, then, that it will. + +LANCE Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but +by a parable. + +SPEED 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Lance, how sayst +thou that my master is become a notable lover? + +LANCE I never knew him otherwise. + +SPEED Than how? + +LANCE A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. + +SPEED Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak'st me. + +LANCE Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. + +SPEED I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. + +LANCE Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn +himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the +alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not +worth the name of a Christian. + +SPEED Why? + +LANCE Because thou hast not so much charity in thee +as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go? + +SPEED At thy service. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Proteus alone.] + + +PROTEUS +To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn. +To love fair Sylvia, shall I be forsworn. +To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn. +And ev'n that power which gave me first my oath +Provokes me to this threefold perjury. +Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear. +O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned, +Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. +At first I did adore a twinkling star, +But now I worship a celestial sun; +Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken, +And he wants wit that wants resolved will +To learn his wit t' exchange the bad for better. +Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad +Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferred +With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths. +I cannot leave to love, and yet I do. +But there I leave to love where I should love. +Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose; +If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; +If I lose them, thus find I by their loss: +For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Sylvia. +I to myself am dearer than a friend, +For love is still most precious in itself, +And Sylvia--witness heaven that made her fair-- +Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope. +I will forget that Julia is alive, +Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead; +And Valentine I'll hold an enemy, +Aiming at Sylvia as a sweeter friend. +I cannot now prove constant to myself +Without some treachery used to Valentine. +This night he meaneth with a corded ladder +To climb celestial Sylvia's chamber window, +Myself in counsel his competitor. +Now presently I'll give her father notice +Of their disguising and pretended flight, +Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine, +For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter. +But Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross +By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. +Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, +As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift. +[He exits.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Julia and Lucetta.] + + +JULIA +Counsel, Lucetta. Gentle girl, assist me; +And ev'n in kind love I do conjure thee-- +Who art the table wherein all my thoughts +Are visibly charactered and engraved-- +To lesson me and tell me some good mean +How with my honor I may undertake +A journey to my loving Proteus. + +LUCETTA +Alas, the way is wearisome and long. + +JULIA +A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary +To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; +Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly, +And when the flight is made to one so dear, +Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus. + +LUCETTA +Better forbear till Proteus make return. + +JULIA +O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food? +Pity the dearth that I have pined in +By longing for that food so long a time. +Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, +Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow +As seek to quench the fire of love with words. + +LUCETTA +I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, +But qualify the fire's extreme rage, +Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. + +JULIA +The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns. +The current that with gentle murmur glides, +Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage, +But when his fair course is not hindered, +He makes sweet music with th' enameled stones, +Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge +He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; +And so by many winding nooks he strays +With willing sport to the wild ocean. +Then let me go and hinder not my course. +I'll be as patient as a gentle stream +And make a pastime of each weary step +Till the last step have brought me to my love, +And there I'll rest as after much turmoil +A blessed soul doth in Elysium. + +LUCETTA +But in what habit will you go along? + +JULIA +Not like a woman, for I would prevent +The loose encounters of lascivious men. +Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds +As may beseem some well-reputed page. + +LUCETTA +Why, then, your Ladyship must cut your hair. + +JULIA +No, girl, I'll knit it up in silken strings +With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots. +To be fantastic may become a youth +Of greater time than I shall show to be. + +LUCETTA +What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? + +JULIA +That fits as well as "Tell me, good my lord, +What compass will you wear your farthingale?" +Why, ev'n what fashion thou best likes, Lucetta. + +LUCETTA +You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. + +JULIA +Out, out, Lucetta. That will be ill-favored. + +LUCETTA +A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin +Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on. + +JULIA +Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have +What thou think'st meet and is most mannerly. +But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me +For undertaking so unstaid a journey? +I fear me it will make me scandalized. + +LUCETTA +If you think so, then stay at home and go not. + +JULIA Nay, that I will not. + +LUCETTA +Then never dream on infamy, but go. +If Proteus like your journey when you come, +No matter who's displeased when you are gone. +I fear me he will scarce be pleased withal. + +JULIA +That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear. +A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears, +And instances of infinite of love +Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. + +LUCETTA +All these are servants to deceitful men. + +JULIA +Base men that use them to so base effect! +But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth. +His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles, +His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, +His tears pure messengers sent from his heart, +His heart as far from fraud as heaven from Earth. + +LUCETTA +Pray heav'n he prove so when you come to him. + +JULIA +Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong +To bear a hard opinion of his truth. +Only deserve my love by loving him. +And presently go with me to my chamber +To take a note of what I stand in need of +To furnish me upon my longing journey. +All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, +My goods, my lands, my reputation. +Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence. +Come, answer not, but to it presently. +I am impatient of my tarriance. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus.] + + +DUKE +Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; +We have some secrets to confer about. [Thurio exits.] +Now tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? + +PROTEUS +My gracious lord, that which I would discover +The law of friendship bids me to conceal, +But when I call to mind your gracious favors +Done to me, undeserving as I am, +My duty pricks me on to utter that +Which else no worldly good should draw from me. +Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine my friend +This night intends to steal away your daughter; +Myself am one made privy to the plot. +I know you have determined to bestow her +On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates, +And should she thus be stol'n away from you, +It would be much vexation to your age. +Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose +To cross my friend in his intended drift +Than, by concealing it, heap on your head +A pack of sorrows which would press you down, +Being unprevented, to your timeless grave. + +DUKE +Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care, +Which to requite command me while I live. +This love of theirs myself have often seen, +Haply when they have judged me fast asleep, +And oftentimes have purposed to forbid +Sir Valentine her company and my court. +But fearing lest my jealous aim might err +And so, unworthily, disgrace the man-- +A rashness that I ever yet have shunned-- +I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find +That which thyself hast now disclosed to me. +And that thou mayst perceive my fear of this, +Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested, +I nightly lodge her in an upper tower, +The key whereof myself have ever kept, +And thence she cannot be conveyed away. + +PROTEUS +Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean +How he her chamber-window will ascend +And with a corded ladder fetch her down; +For which the youthful lover now is gone, +And this way comes he with it presently, +Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. +But, good my lord, do it so cunningly +That my discovery be not aimed at; +For love of you, not hate unto my friend, +Hath made me publisher of this pretense. + +DUKE +Upon mine honor, he shall never know +That I had any light from thee of this. + +PROTEUS +Adieu, my lord. Sir Valentine is coming. +[Proteus exits.] + +[Enter Valentine.] + + +DUKE +Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? + +VALENTINE +Please it your Grace, there is a messenger +That stays to bear my letters to my friends, +And I am going to deliver them. + +DUKE Be they of much import? + +VALENTINE +The tenor of them doth but signify +My health and happy being at your court. + +DUKE +Nay then, no matter. Stay with me awhile; +I am to break with thee of some affairs +That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. +'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought +To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter. + +VALENTINE +I know it well, my lord, and sure the match +Were rich and honorable. Besides, the gentleman +Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities +Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter. +Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him? + +DUKE +No. Trust me, she is peevish, sullen, froward, +Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty, +Neither regarding that she is my child +Nor fearing me as if I were her father; +And may I say to thee, this pride of hers, +Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her, +And where I thought the remnant of mine age +Should have been cherished by her childlike duty, +I now am full resolved to take a wife +And turn her out to who will take her in. +Then let her beauty be her wedding dower, +For me and my possessions she esteems not. + +VALENTINE +What would your Grace have me to do in this? + +DUKE +There is a lady in Verona here +Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, +And nought esteems my aged eloquence. +Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor-- +For long agone I have forgot to court; +Besides, the fashion of the time is changed-- +How and which way I may bestow myself +To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. + +VALENTINE +Win her with gifts if she respect not words; +Dumb jewels often in their silent kind +More than quick words do move a woman's mind. + +DUKE +But she did scorn a present that I sent her. + +VALENTINE +A woman sometime scorns what best contents her. +Send her another; never give her o'er, +For scorn at first makes after-love the more. +If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you, +But rather to beget more love in you. +If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone, +Forwhy the fools are mad if left alone. +Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; +For "get you gone" she doth not mean "away." +Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; +Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. +That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man +If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. + +DUKE +But she I mean is promised by her friends +Unto a youthful gentleman of worth +And kept severely from resort of men, +That no man hath access by day to her. + +VALENTINE +Why, then, I would resort to her by night. + +DUKE +Ay, but the doors be locked and keys kept safe, +That no man hath recourse to her by night. + +VALENTINE +What lets but one may enter at her window? + +DUKE +Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, +And built so shelving that one cannot climb it +Without apparent hazard of his life. + +VALENTINE +Why, then a ladder quaintly made of cords +To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, +Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, +So bold Leander would adventure it. + +DUKE +Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, +Advise me where I may have such a ladder. + +VALENTINE +When would you use it? Pray sir, tell me that. + +DUKE +This very night; for love is like a child +That longs for everything that he can come by. + +VALENTINE +By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder. + +DUKE +But hark thee: I will go to her alone; +How shall I best convey the ladder thither? + +VALENTINE +It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it +Under a cloak that is of any length. + +DUKE +A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? + +VALENTINE +Ay, my good lord. + +DUKE Then let me see thy cloak; +I'll get me one of such another length. + +VALENTINE +Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. + +DUKE +How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak? +I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. +[Pulling off the cloak, he reveals +a rope ladder and a paper.] +What letter is this same? What's here? [(Reads.)] To +Sylvia. +And here an engine fit for my proceeding. +I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. +[Reads.] + My thoughts do harbor with my Sylvia nightly, + And slaves they are to me that send them flying. + O, could their master come and go as lightly, + Himself would lodge where, senseless, they are + lying. + My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them, + While I, their king, that thither them importune, + Do curse the grace that with such grace hath blest +them, + Because myself do want my servants' fortune. + I curse myself, for they are sent by me, + That they should harbor where their lord should be. +What's here? +[(Reads.)] Sylvia, this night I will enfranchise thee. +'Tis so. And here's the ladder for the purpose. +Why, Phaeton--for thou art Merops' son-- +Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car +And with thy daring folly burn the world? +Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee? +Go, base intruder, overweening slave, +Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates +And think my patience, more than thy desert, +Is privilege for thy departure hence. +Thank me for this more than for all the favors +Which all too much I have bestowed on thee. +But if thou linger in my territories +Longer than swiftest expedition +Will give thee time to leave our royal court, +By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love +I ever bore my daughter or thyself. +Begone. I will not hear thy vain excuse, +But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. +[He exits.] + +VALENTINE +And why not death, rather than living torment? +To die is to be banished from myself, +And Sylvia is myself; banished from her +Is self from self--a deadly banishment. +What light is light if Sylvia be not seen? +What joy is joy if Sylvia be not by-- +Unless it be to think that she is by +And feed upon the shadow of perfection? +Except I be by Sylvia in the night, +There is no music in the nightingale. +Unless I look on Sylvia in the day, +There is no day for me to look upon. +She is my essence, and I leave to be +If I be not by her fair influence +Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive. +I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom; +Tarry I here, I but attend on death, +But fly I hence, I fly away from life. + +[Enter Proteus and Lance.] + + +PROTEUS Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. + +LANCE So-ho, so-ho! + +PROTEUS What seest thou? + +LANCE Him we go to find. There's not a hair on 's head +but 'tis a Valentine. + +PROTEUS Valentine? + +VALENTINE No. + +PROTEUS Who then? His spirit? + +VALENTINE Neither. + +PROTEUS What then? + +VALENTINE Nothing. + +LANCE Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike? + +PROTEUS Who wouldst thou strike? + +LANCE Nothing. + +PROTEUS Villain, forbear. + +LANCE Why, sir, I'll strike nothing. I pray you-- + +PROTEUS +Sirrah, I say forbear.--Friend Valentine, a word. + +VALENTINE +My ears are stopped and cannot hear good news, +So much of bad already hath possessed them. + +PROTEUS +Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, +For they are harsh, untunable, and bad. + +VALENTINE Is Sylvia dead? + +PROTEUS No, Valentine. + +VALENTINE +No Valentine indeed for sacred Sylvia. +Hath she forsworn me? + +PROTEUS No, Valentine. + +VALENTINE +No Valentine if Sylvia have forsworn me. +What is your news? + +LANCE Sir, there is a proclamation that you are +vanished. + +PROTEUS +That thou art banished--O, that's the news-- +From hence, from Sylvia, and from me thy friend. + +VALENTINE +O, I have fed upon this woe already, +And now excess of it will make me surfeit. +Doth Sylvia know that I am banished? + +PROTEUS +Ay, ay, and she hath offered to the doom-- +Which unreversed stands in effectual force-- +A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears; +Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered, +With them, upon her knees, her humble self, +Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became +them +As if but now they waxed pale for woe. +But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, +Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears +Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire; +But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. +Besides, her intercession chafed him so, +When she for thy repeal was suppliant, +That to close prison he commanded her +With many bitter threats of biding there. + +VALENTINE +No more, unless the next word that thou speak'st +Have some malignant power upon my life. +If so, I pray thee breathe it in mine ear +As ending anthem of my endless dolor. + +PROTEUS +Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, +And study help for that which thou lament'st. +Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. +Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love; +Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life. +Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that +And manage it against despairing thoughts. +Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence, +Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered +Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love. +The time now serves not to expostulate. +Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate +And, ere I part with thee, confer at large +Of all that may concern thy love affairs. +As thou lov'st Sylvia, though not for thyself, +Regard thy danger, and along with me. + +VALENTINE +I pray thee, Lance, an if thou seest my boy, +Bid him make haste and meet me at the North +Gate. + +PROTEUS +Go, sirrah, find him out.--Come, Valentine. + +VALENTINE +O, my dear Sylvia! Hapless Valentine! +[Valentine and Proteus exit.] + +LANCE I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit +to think my master is a kind of a knave, but that's all +one if he be but one knave. He lives not now that +knows me to be in love, yet I am in love, but a team +of horse shall not pluck that from me, nor who 'tis I +love; and yet 'tis a woman, but what woman I will +not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid; yet 'tis not a +maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis a maid, for +she is her master's maid and serves for wages. She +hath more qualities than a water spaniel, which is +much in a bare Christian. [He takes out a piece of +paper.] Here is the catalog of her condition. +[(Reads.)] Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a +horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch but +only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. +[(Reads.)] Item, She can milk. Look you, a sweet +virtue in a maid with clean hands. + +[Enter Speed.] + + +SPEED How now, Signior Lance? What news with your +Mastership? + +LANCE With my master's ship? Why, it is at sea. + +SPEED Well, your old vice still: mistake the word. What +news, then, in your paper? + +LANCE The black'st news that ever thou heard'st. + +SPEED Why, man? How black? + +LANCE Why, as black as ink. + +SPEED Let me read them. + +LANCE Fie on thee, jolt-head, thou canst not read. + +SPEED Thou liest. I can. + +LANCE I will try thee. Tell me this, who begot thee? + +SPEED Marry, the son of my grandfather. + +LANCE O, illiterate loiterer, it was the son of thy grandmother. +This proves that thou canst not read. + +SPEED Come, fool, come. Try me in thy paper. + +LANCE, [giving him the paper] There, and Saint Nicholas +be thy speed. + +SPEED [reads] Imprimis, She can milk. + +LANCE Ay, that she can. + +SPEED Item, She brews good ale. + +LANCE And thereof comes the proverb: "Blessing of +your heart, you brew good ale." + +SPEED Item, She can sew. + +LANCE That's as much as to say "Can she so?" + +SPEED Item, She can knit. + +LANCE What need a man care for a stock with a wench, +when she can knit him a stock? + +SPEED Item, She can wash and scour. + +LANCE A special virtue, for then she need not be +washed and scoured. + +SPEED Item, She can spin. + +LANCE Then may I set the world on wheels, when she +can spin for her living. + +SPEED Item, She hath many nameless virtues. + +LANCE That's as much as to say "bastard virtues," that +indeed know not their fathers and therefore have no +names. + +SPEED Here follow her vices. + +LANCE Close at the heels of her virtues. + +SPEED Item, She is not to be kissed fasting in respect of +her breath. + +LANCE Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. +Read on. + +SPEED Item, She hath a sweet mouth. + +LANCE That makes amends for her sour breath. + +SPEED Item, She doth talk in her sleep. + +LANCE It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her +talk. + +SPEED Item, She is slow in words. + +LANCE O villain, that set this down among her vices! To +be slow in words is a woman's only virtue. I pray +thee, out with 't, and place it for her chief virtue. + +SPEED Item, She is proud. + +LANCE Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy and +cannot be ta'en from her. + +SPEED Item, She hath no teeth. + +LANCE I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. + +SPEED Item, She is curst. + +LANCE Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. + +SPEED Item, She will often praise her liquor. + +LANCE If her liquor be good, she shall; if she will not, I +will, for good things should be praised. + +SPEED Item, She is too liberal. + +LANCE Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down +she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll +keep shut; now, of another thing she may, and that +cannot I help. Well, proceed. + +SPEED Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more +faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. + +LANCE Stop there. I'll have her. She was mine and not +mine twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse +that once more. + +SPEED Item, She hath more hair than wit. + +LANCE "More hair than wit"? It may be; I'll prove it: +the cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is +more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit is +more than the wit, for the greater hides the less. +What's next? + +SPEED And more faults than hairs. + +LANCE That's monstrous! O, that that were out! + +SPEED And more wealth than faults. + +LANCE Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well, +I'll have her, and if it be a match, as nothing is +impossible-- + +SPEED What then? + +LANCE Why, then will I tell thee that thy master stays +for thee at the North Gate. + +SPEED For me? + +LANCE For thee? Ay, who art thou? He hath stayed for a +better man than thee. + +SPEED And must I go to him? + +LANCE Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so +long that going will scarce serve the turn. + +SPEED, [handing him the paper] Why didst not tell me +sooner? Pox of your love letters! [He exits.] + +LANCE Now will he be swinged for reading my letter; +an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into +secrets. I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Duke and Thurio.] + + +DUKE +Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you +Now Valentine is banished from her sight. + +THURIO +Since his exile she hath despised me most, +Forsworn my company and railed at me, +That I am desperate of obtaining her. + +DUKE +This weak impress of love is as a figure +Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat +Dissolves to water and doth lose his form. +A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, +And worthless Valentine shall be forgot. + +[Enter Proteus.] + +How now, Sir Proteus? Is your countryman, +According to our proclamation, gone? + +PROTEUS Gone, my good lord. + +DUKE +My daughter takes his going grievously. + +PROTEUS +A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. + +DUKE +So I believe, but Thurio thinks not so. +Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, +For thou hast shown some sign of good desert, +Makes me the better to confer with thee. + +PROTEUS +Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace +Let me not live to look upon your Grace. + +DUKE +Thou know'st how willingly I would effect +The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter? + +PROTEUS I do, my lord. + +DUKE +And also, I think, thou art not ignorant +How she opposes her against my will? + +PROTEUS +She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. + +DUKE +Ay, and perversely she persevers so. +What might we do to make the girl forget +The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio? + +PROTEUS +The best way is to slander Valentine +With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent, +Three things that women highly hold in hate. + +DUKE +Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate. + +PROTEUS +Ay, if his enemy deliver it. +Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken +By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. + +DUKE +Then you must undertake to slander him. + +PROTEUS +And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do. +'Tis an ill office for a gentleman, +Especially against his very friend. + +DUKE +Where your good word cannot advantage him, +Your slander never can endamage him; +Therefore the office is indifferent, +Being entreated to it by your friend. + +PROTEUS +You have prevailed, my lord. If I can do it +By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, +She shall not long continue love to him. +But say this weed her love from Valentine, +It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio. + +THURIO +Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, +Lest it should ravel and be good to none, +You must provide to bottom it on me, +Which must be done by praising me as much +As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine. + +DUKE +And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind +Because we know, on Valentine's report, +You are already Love's firm votary +And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. +Upon this warrant shall you have access +Where you with Sylvia may confer at large-- +For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, +And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you-- +Where you may temper her by your persuasion +To hate young Valentine and love my friend. + +PROTEUS +As much as I can do I will effect.-- +But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough. +You must lay lime to tangle her desires +By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes +Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows. + +DUKE +Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. + +PROTEUS +Say that upon the altar of her beauty +You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart. +Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears +Moist it again, and frame some feeling line +That may discover such integrity. +For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, +Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, +Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans +Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. +After your dire-lamenting elegies, +Visit by night your lady's chamber window +With some sweet consort; to their instruments +Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence +Will well become such sweet complaining +grievance. +This, or else nothing, will inherit her. + +DUKE +This discipline shows thou hast been in love. + +THURIO, [to Proteus] +And thy advice this night I'll put in practice. +Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, +Let us into the city presently +To sort some gentlemen well-skilled in music. +I have a sonnet that will serve the turn +To give the onset to thy good advice. + +DUKE About it, gentlemen. + +PROTEUS +We'll wait upon your Grace till after supper +And afterward determine our proceedings. + +DUKE +Even now about it! I will pardon you. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter certain Outlaws.] + + +FIRST OUTLAW +Fellows, stand fast. I see a passenger. + +SECOND OUTLAW +If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em. + +[Enter Valentine and Speed.] + + +THIRD OUTLAW +Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you. +If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. + +SPEED, [to Valentine] +Sir, we are undone; these are the villains +That all the travelers do fear so much. + +VALENTINE My friends-- + +FIRST OUTLAW +That's not so, sir. We are your enemies. + +SECOND OUTLAW Peace. We'll hear him. + +THIRD OUTLAW +Ay, by my beard, will we, for he is a proper man. + +VALENTINE +Then know that I have little wealth to lose. +A man I am crossed with adversity; +My riches are these poor habiliments, +Of which, if you should here disfurnish me, +You take the sum and substance that I have. + +SECOND OUTLAW Whither travel you? + +VALENTINE To Verona. + +FIRST OUTLAW Whence came you? + +VALENTINE From Milan. + +THIRD OUTLAW Have you long sojourned there? + +VALENTINE +Some sixteen months, and longer might have stayed +If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. + +FIRST OUTLAW What, were you banished thence? + +VALENTINE I was. + +SECOND OUTLAW For what offense? + +VALENTINE +For that which now torments me to rehearse; +I killed a man, whose death I much repent, +But yet I slew him manfully in fight +Without false vantage or base treachery. + +FIRST OUTLAW +Why, ne'er repent it if it were done so; +But were you banished for so small a fault? + +VALENTINE +I was, and held me glad of such a doom. + +SECOND OUTLAW Have you the tongues? + +VALENTINE +My youthful travel therein made me happy, +Or else I often had been miserable. + +THIRD OUTLAW +By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, +This fellow were a king for our wild faction. + +FIRST OUTLAW We'll have him.--Sirs, a word. +[The Outlaws step aside to talk.] + +SPEED Master, be one of them. It's an honorable kind +of thievery. + +VALENTINE Peace, villain. + +SECOND OUTLAW, [advancing] +Tell us this: have you anything to take to? + +VALENTINE Nothing but my fortune. + +THIRD OUTLAW +Know then that some of us are gentlemen, +Such as the fury of ungoverned youth +Thrust from the company of awful men. +Myself was from Verona banished +For practicing to steal away a lady, +An heir and near allied unto the Duke. + +SECOND OUTLAW +And I from Mantua, for a gentleman +Who, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart. + +FIRST OUTLAW +And I for such like petty crimes as these. +But to the purpose: for we cite our faults +That they may hold excused our lawless lives, +And partly seeing you are beautified +With goodly shape, and by your own report +A linguist, and a man of such perfection +As we do in our quality much want-- + +SECOND OUTLAW +Indeed because you are a banished man, +Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you. +Are you content to be our general, +To make a virtue of necessity +And live as we do in this wilderness? + +THIRD OUTLAW +What sayst thou? Wilt thou be of our consort? +Say ay, and be the captain of us all; +We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee, +Love thee as our commander and our king. + +FIRST OUTLAW +But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. + +SECOND OUTLAW +Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offered. + +VALENTINE +I take your offer and will live with you, +Provided that you do no outrages +On silly women or poor passengers. + +THIRD OUTLAW +No, we detest such vile base practices. +Come, go with us; we'll bring thee to our crews +And show thee all the treasure we have got, +Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Proteus.] + + +PROTEUS +Already have I been false to Valentine, +And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. +Under the color of commending him, +I have access my own love to prefer. +But Sylvia is too fair, too true, too holy +To be corrupted with my worthless gifts. +When I protest true loyalty to her, +She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; +When to her beauty I commend my vows, +She bids me think how I have been forsworn +In breaking faith with Julia, whom I loved; +And notwithstanding all her sudden quips, +The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, +Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, +The more it grows and fawneth on her still. +But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her +window +And give some evening music to her ear. + +[Enter Thurio and Musicians.] + + +THURIO +How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us? + +PROTEUS +Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love +Will creep in service where it cannot go. + +THURIO +Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. + +PROTEUS +Sir, but I do, or else I would be hence. + +THURIO +Who, Sylvia? + +PROTEUS Ay, Sylvia, for your sake. + +THURIO +I thank you for your own.--Now, gentlemen, +Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. + +[Enter Host of the inn, and Julia, disguised as a +page, Sebastian. They stand at a distance and talk.] + + +HOST Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly. +I pray you, why is it? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Marry, mine host, because I +cannot be merry. + +HOST Come, we'll have you merry. I'll bring you where +you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you +asked for. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] But shall I hear him speak? + +HOST Ay, that you shall. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] That will be music. + +HOST Hark, hark. [Music plays.] + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Is he among these? + +HOST Ay. But peace; let's hear 'em. + +Song. + + +PROTEUS Who is Sylvia? What is she, + That all our swains commend her? + Holy, fair, and wise is she; + The heaven such grace did lend her + That she might admired be. + + Is she kind as she is fair? + For beauty lives with kindness. + Love doth to her eyes repair + To help him of his blindness; + And, being helped, inhabits there. + + Then to Sylvia let us sing, + That Sylvia is excelling; + She excels each mortal thing + Upon the dull earth dwelling. + To her let us garlands bring. + + +HOST How now? Are you sadder than you were before? +How do you, man? The music likes you not. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] You mistake. The musician likes me +not. + +HOST Why, my pretty youth? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] He plays false, father. + +HOST How, out of tune on the strings? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Not so; but yet so false that he +grieves my very heart-strings. + +HOST You have a quick ear. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes +me have a slow heart. + +HOST I perceive you delight not in music. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Not a whit when it jars so. + +HOST Hark, what fine change is in the music! + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Ay; that change is the spite. + +HOST You would have them always play but one +thing? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +I would always have one play but one thing. +But, host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on, +Often resort unto this gentlewoman? + +HOST I tell you what Lance his man told me: he loved +her out of all nick. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Where is Lance? + +HOST Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his +master's command, he must carry for a present to +his lady. [Music ends.] + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Peace. Stand aside. The company +parts. [Host and Julia move away.] + +PROTEUS +Sir Thurio, fear not you. I will so plead +That you shall say my cunning drift excels. + +THURIO +Where meet we? + +PROTEUS At Saint Gregory's well. + +THURIO Farewell. +[Thurio and the Musicians exit.] + +[Enter Sylvia, above.] + + +PROTEUS +Madam, good even to your Ladyship. + +SYLVIA +I thank you for your music, gentlemen. +Who is that that spake? + +PROTEUS +One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, +You would quickly learn to know him by his voice. + +SYLVIA Sir Proteus, as I take it. + +PROTEUS +Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. + +SYLVIA +What's your will? + +PROTEUS That I may compass yours. + +SYLVIA +You have your wish: my will is even this, +That presently you hie you home to bed. +Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man, +Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless, +To be seduced by thy flattery, +That hast deceived so many with thy vows? +Return, return, and make thy love amends. +For me, by this pale queen of night I swear, +I am so far from granting thy request +That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit +And by and by intend to chide myself +Even for this time I spend in talking to thee. + +PROTEUS +I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady, +But she is dead. + +JULIA, [aside] 'Twere false if I should speak it, +For I am sure she is not buried. + +SYLVIA +Say that she be; yet Valentine thy friend +Survives, to whom, thyself art witness, +I am betrothed. And art thou not ashamed +To wrong him with thy importunacy? + +PROTEUS +I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. + +SYLVIA +And so suppose am I, for in his grave, +Assure thyself, my love is buried. + +PROTEUS +Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. + +SYLVIA +Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence, +Or, at the least, in hers sepulcher thine. + +JULIA, [aside] He heard not that. + +PROTEUS +Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, +Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, +The picture that is hanging in your chamber; +To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep, +For since the substance of your perfect self +Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; +And to your shadow will I make true love. + +JULIA, [aside] +If 'twere a substance you would sure deceive it +And make it but a shadow, as I am. + +SYLVIA +I am very loath to be your idol, sir; +But since your falsehood shall become you well +To worship shadows and adore false shapes, +Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it. +And so, good rest. [Sylvia exits.] + +PROTEUS As wretches have o'ernight +That wait for execution in the morn. [Proteus exits.] + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Host, will you go? + +HOST By my halidom, I was fast asleep. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus? + +HOST Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost +day. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +Not so; but it hath been the longest night +That e'er I watched, and the most heaviest. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Eglamour.] + + +EGLAMOUR +This is the hour that Madam Sylvia +Entreated me to call and know her mind; +There's some great matter she'd employ me in. +Madam, madam! + +[Enter Sylvia, above.] + + +SYLVIA Who calls? + +EGLAMOUR Your servant, and your friend, +One that attends your Ladyship's command. + +SYLVIA +Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow. + +EGLAMOUR +As many, worthy lady, to yourself. +According to your Ladyship's impose, +I am thus early come to know what service +It is your pleasure to command me in. + +SYLVIA +O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman-- +Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not-- +Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished. +Thou art not ignorant what dear good will +I bear unto the banished Valentine, +Nor how my father would enforce me marry +Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorred. +Thyself hast loved, and I have heard thee say +No grief did ever come so near thy heart +As when thy lady and thy true love died, +Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity. +Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine, +To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode; +And for the ways are dangerous to pass, +I do desire thy worthy company, +Upon whose faith and honor I repose. +Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour, +But think upon my grief, a lady's grief, +And on the justice of my flying hence +To keep me from a most unholy match, +Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues. +I do desire thee, even from a heart +As full of sorrows as the sea of sands, +To bear me company and go with me; +If not, to hide what I have said to thee, +That I may venture to depart alone. + +EGLAMOUR +Madam, I pity much your grievances, +Which, since I know they virtuously are placed, +I give consent to go along with you, +Recking as little what betideth me +As much I wish all good befortune you. +When will you go? + +SYLVIA This evening coming. + +EGLAMOUR +Where shall I meet you? + +SYLVIA At Friar Patrick's cell, +Where I intend holy confession. + +EGLAMOUR +I will not fail your Ladyship. Good morrow, gentle +lady. + +SYLVIA +Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Lance, with his dog, Crab.] + + +LANCE When a man's servant shall play the cur with +him, look you, it goes hard--one that I brought up +of a puppy, one that I saved from drowning when +three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went +to it. I have taught him even as one would say +precisely "Thus I would teach a dog." I was sent to +deliver him as a present to Mistress Sylvia from my +master; and I came no sooner into the dining +chamber but he steps me to her trencher and steals +her capon's leg. O, 'tis a foul thing when a cur +cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, +as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a +dog indeed; to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I +had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon +me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged +for 't. Sure as I live, he had suffered for 't. You shall +judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of +three or four gentlemanlike dogs under the Duke's +table; he had not been there--bless the mark!--a +pissing while but all the chamber smelt him. "Out +with the dog!" says one. "What cur is that?" says +another. "Whip him out!" says the third. "Hang him +up!" says the Duke. I, having been acquainted with +the smell before, knew it was Crab, and goes me to +the fellow that whips the dogs. "Friend," quoth I, +"You mean to whip the dog?" "Ay, marry, do I," +quoth he. "You do him the more wrong," quoth I. +"'Twas I did the thing you wot of." He makes me no +more ado but whips me out of the chamber. How +many masters would do this for his servant? Nay, +I'll be sworn I have sat in the stocks for puddings he +hath stolen; otherwise he had been executed. I have +stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed; otherwise +he had suffered for 't. [To Crab.] Thou think'st +not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you +served me when I took my leave of Madam Sylvia. +Did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? +When didst thou see me heave up my leg and make +water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? Didst +thou ever see me do such a trick? + +[Enter Proteus and Julia disguised as Sebastian.] + + +PROTEUS +Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well +And will employ thee in some service presently. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +In what you please. I'll do what I can. + +PROTEUS +I hope thou wilt. [To Lance.] How now, you +whoreson peasant? +Where have you been these two days loitering? + +LANCE Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Sylvia the dog you +bade me. + +PROTEUS And what says she to my little jewel? + +LANCE Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells +you currish thanks is good enough for such a +present. + +PROTEUS But she received my dog? + +LANCE No, indeed, did she not. Here have I brought +him back again. + +PROTEUS What, didst thou offer her this from me? + +LANCE Ay, sir. The other squirrel was stolen from me +by the hangman's boys in the market-place, and +then I offered her mine own, who is a dog as big as +ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. + +PROTEUS +Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, +Or ne'er return again into my sight. +Away, I say. Stayest thou to vex me here? +[Lance exits with Crab.] +A slave that still an end turns me to shame. +Sebastian, I have entertained thee, +Partly that I have need of such a youth +That can with some discretion do my business-- +For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish lout-- +But chiefly for thy face and thy behavior, +Which, if my augury deceive me not, +Witness good bringing-up, fortune, and truth. +Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee. +Go presently, and take this ring with thee; +Deliver it to Madam Sylvia. +She loved me well delivered it to me. +[He gives her a ring.] + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +It seems you loved not her, to leave her token. +She is dead belike? + +PROTEUS Not so; I think she lives. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Alas! + +PROTEUS Why dost thou cry "Alas"? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] I cannot choose but pity her. + +PROTEUS Wherefore shouldst thou pity her? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +Because methinks that she loved you as well +As you do love your lady Sylvia. +She dreams on him that has forgot her love; +You dote on her that cares not for your love. +'Tis pity love should be so contrary, +And thinking on it makes me cry "Alas." + +PROTEUS +Well, give her that ring and therewithal +This letter. [He gives her a paper.] That's her +chamber. Tell my lady +I claim the promise for her heavenly picture. +Your message done, hie home unto my chamber, +Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. +[Proteus exits.] + +JULIA +How many women would do such a message? +Alas, poor Proteus, thou hast entertained +A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs. +Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him +That with his very heart despiseth me? +Because he loves her, he despiseth me; +Because I love him, I must pity him. +This ring I gave him when he parted from me, +To bind him to remember my good will; +And now am I, unhappy messenger, +To plead for that which I would not obtain, +To carry that which I would have refused, +To praise his faith, which I would have dispraised. +I am my master's true confirmed love, +But cannot be true servant to my master +Unless I prove false traitor to myself. +Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly +As--Heaven it knows!--I would not have him +speed. + +[Enter Sylvia.] + +[As Sebastian.] Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you be +my mean +To bring me where to speak with Madam Sylvia. + +SYLVIA +What would you with her, if that I be she? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +If you be she, I do entreat your patience +To hear me speak the message I am sent on. + +SYLVIA From whom? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] From my master, Sir Proteus, +madam. + +SYLVIA O, he sends you for a picture? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Ay, madam. + +SYLVIA, [calling] Ursula, bring my picture there. +[She is brought the picture.] +Go, give your master this. Tell him from me, +One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget, +Would better fit his chamber than this shadow. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Madam, please you peruse this +letter. [She gives Sylvia a paper.] +Pardon me, madam, I have unadvised +Delivered you a paper that I should not. +This is the letter to your Ladyship. +[She takes back the first paper +and hands Sylvia another.] + +SYLVIA +I pray thee let me look on that again. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +It may not be; good madam, pardon me. + +SYLVIA There, hold. +I will not look upon your master's lines; +I know they are stuffed with protestations +And full of new-found oaths, which he will break +As easily as I do tear his paper. +[She tears the second paper.] + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +Madam, he sends your Ladyship this ring. +[She offers Sylvia a ring.] + +SYLVIA +The more shame for him, that he sends it me; +For I have heard him say a thousand times +His Julia gave it him at his departure. +Though his false finger have profaned the ring, +Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] She thanks you. + +SYLVIA What sayst thou? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +I thank you, madam, that you tender her; +Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much. + +SYLVIA Dost thou know her? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +Almost as well as I do know myself. +To think upon her woes, I do protest +That I have wept a hundred several times. + +SYLVIA +Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +I think she doth, and that's her cause of sorrow. + +SYLVIA Is she not passing fair? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +She hath been fairer, madam, than she is; +When she did think my master loved her well, +She, in my judgment, was as fair as you. +But since she did neglect her looking-glass +And threw her sun-expelling mask away, +The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks +And pinched the lily tincture of her face, +That now she is become as black as I. + +SYLVIA How tall was she? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +About my stature; for at Pentecost, +When all our pageants of delight were played, +Our youth got me to play the woman's part, +And I was trimmed in Madam Julia's gown, +Which served me as fit, by all men's judgments, +As if the garment had been made for me; +Therefore I know she is about my height. +And at that time I made her weep agood, +For I did play a lamentable part; +Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning +For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight, +Which I so lively acted with my tears +That my poor mistress, moved therewithal, +Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead +If I in thought felt not her very sorrow. + +SYLVIA +She is beholding to thee, gentle youth. +Alas, poor lady, desolate and left! +I weep myself to think upon thy words. +Here, youth, there is my purse. +[She gives Julia a purse.] +I give thee this +For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st her. +Farewell. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +And she shall thank you for 't if e'er you know her. +[Sylvia exits.] +A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful. +I hope my master's suit will be but cold, +Since she respects my mistress' love so much.-- +Alas, how love can trifle with itself! +Here is her picture; let me see. I think +If I had such a tire, this face of mine +Were full as lovely as is this of hers; +And yet the painter flattered her a little, +Unless I flatter with myself too much. +Her hair is auburn; mine is perfect yellow; +If that be all the difference in his love, +I'll get me such a colored periwig. +Her eyes are gray as glass, and so are mine. +Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high. +What should it be that he respects in her +But I can make respective in myself +If this fond Love were not a blinded god? +Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up, +For 'tis thy rival. O, thou senseless form, +Thou shalt be worshipped, kissed, loved, and +adored; +And were there sense in his idolatry, +My substance should be statue in thy stead. +I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake, +That used me so, or else, by Jove I vow, +I should have scratched out your unseeing eyes +To make my master out of love with thee. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Eglamour.] + + +EGLAMOUR +The sun begins to gild the western sky, +And now it is about the very hour +That Sylvia at Friar Patrick's cell should meet me. +She will not fail, for lovers break not hours, +Unless it be to come before their time, +So much they spur their expedition. + +[Enter Sylvia.] + +See where she comes.--Lady, a happy evening. + +SYLVIA +Amen, amen. Go on, good Eglamour, +Out at the postern by the abbey wall. +I fear I am attended by some spies. + +EGLAMOUR +Fear not. The forest is not three leagues off; +If we recover that, we are sure enough. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Thurio, Proteus, and Julia, disguised as +Sebastian.] + + +THURIO +Sir Proteus, what says Sylvia to my suit? + +PROTEUS +O sir, I find her milder than she was, +And yet she takes exceptions at your person. + +THURIO What? That my leg is too long? + +PROTEUS No, that it is too little. + +THURIO +I'll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder. + +JULIA, [aside] +But love will not be spurred to what it loathes. + +THURIO What says she to my face? + +PROTEUS She says it is a fair one. + +THURIO +Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is black. + +PROTEUS +But pearls are fair, and the old saying is, +Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes. + +JULIA, [aside] +'Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies' eyes, +For I had rather wink than look on them. + +THURIO How likes she my discourse? + +PROTEUS Ill, when you talk of war. + +THURIO +But well when I discourse of love and peace. + +JULIA, [aside] +But better, indeed, when you hold your peace. + +THURIO What says she to my valor? + +PROTEUS O, sir, she makes no doubt of that. + +JULIA, [aside] +She needs not when she knows it cowardice. + +THURIO What says she to my birth? + +PROTEUS That you are well derived. + +JULIA, [aside] True, from a gentleman to a fool. + +THURIO Considers she my possessions? + +PROTEUS O, ay, and pities them. + +THURIO Wherefore? + +JULIA, [aside] That such an ass should owe them. + +PROTEUS +That they are out by lease. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Here comes the Duke. + +[Enter Duke.] + + +DUKE +How now, Sir Proteus?--How now, Thurio? +Which of you saw Eglamour of late? + +THURIO +Not I. + +PROTEUS Nor I. + +DUKE Saw you my daughter? + +PROTEUS Neither. + +DUKE +Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant, Valentine, +And Eglamour is in her company. +'Tis true, for Friar Lawrence met them both +As he, in penance, wandered through the forest; +Him he knew well and guessed that it was she, +But, being masked, he was not sure of it. +Besides, she did intend confession +At Patrick's cell this even, and there she was not. +These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence. +Therefore I pray you stand not to discourse, +But mount you presently and meet with me +Upon the rising of the mountain foot +That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled. +Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. +[He exits.] + +THURIO +Why, this it is to be a peevish girl +That flies her fortune when it follows her. +I'll after, more to be revenged on Eglamour +Than for the love of reckless Sylvia. [He exits.] + +PROTEUS +And I will follow, more for Sylvia's love +Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. +[He exits.] + +JULIA +And I will follow, more to cross that love +Than hate for Sylvia, that is gone for love. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sylvia and Outlaws.] + + +FIRST OUTLAW +Come, come, be patient. We must bring you to our +captain. + +SYLVIA +A thousand more mischances than this one +Have learned me how to brook this patiently. + +SECOND OUTLAW Come, bring her away. + +FIRST OUTLAW +Where is the gentleman that was with her? + +THIRD OUTLAW +Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us, +But Moyses and Valerius follow him. +Go thou with her to the west end of the wood; +There is our captain. We'll follow him that's fled. +The thicket is beset; he cannot 'scape. +[Second and Third Outlaws exit.] + +FIRST OUTLAW +Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave. +Fear not; he bears an honorable mind +And will not use a woman lawlessly. + +SYLVIA +O Valentine, this I endure for thee! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Valentine.] + + +VALENTINE +How use doth breed a habit in a man! +This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, +I better brook than flourishing peopled towns; +Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, +And to the nightingale's complaining notes +Tune my distresses and record my woes. +O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, +Leave not the mansion so long tenantless +Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall +And leave no memory of what it was. +Repair me with thy presence, Sylvia; +Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain. +[Shouting and sounds of fighting.] +What hallowing and what stir is this today? +These are my mates, that make their wills their law, +Have some unhappy passenger in chase. +They love me well, yet I have much to do +To keep them from uncivil outrages. +Withdraw thee, Valentine. Who's this comes here? +[He steps aside.] + +[Enter Proteus, Sylvia, and Julia, disguised as +Sebastian.] + + +PROTEUS +Madam, this service I have done for you-- +Though you respect not aught your servant doth-- +To hazard life, and rescue you from him +That would have forced your honor and your love. +Vouchsafe me for my meed but one fair look; +A smaller boon than this I cannot beg, +And less than this I am sure you cannot give. + +VALENTINE, [aside] +How like a dream is this I see and hear! +Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile. + +SYLVIA +O miserable, unhappy that I am! + +PROTEUS +Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came, +But by my coming, I have made you happy. + +SYLVIA +By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy. + +JULIA, [aside] +And me, when he approacheth to your presence. + +SYLVIA +Had I been seized by a hungry lion, +I would have been a breakfast to the beast +Rather than have false Proteus rescue me. +O heaven, be judge how I love Valentine, +Whose life's as tender to me as my soul; +And full as much, for more there cannot be, +I do detest false perjured Proteus. +Therefore begone; solicit me no more. + +PROTEUS +What dangerous action, stood it next to death, +Would I not undergo for one calm look! +O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved, +When women cannot love where they're beloved. + +SYLVIA +When Proteus cannot love where he's beloved. +Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love, +For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith +Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths +Descended into perjury to love me. +Thou hast no faith left now unless thou 'dst two, +And that's far worse than none; better have none +Than plural faith, which is too much by one. +Thou counterfeit to thy true friend! + +PROTEUS In love +Who respects friend? + +SYLVIA All men but Proteus. + +PROTEUS +Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words +Can no way change you to a milder form, +I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end, +And love you 'gainst the nature of love--force you. +[He seizes her.] + +SYLVIA +O, heaven! + +PROTEUS I'll force thee yield to my desire. + +VALENTINE, [advancing] +Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch, +Thou friend of an ill fashion. + +PROTEUS Valentine! + +VALENTINE +Thou common friend, that's without faith or love, +For such is a friend now. Treacherous man, +Thou hast beguiled my hopes; nought but mine eye +Could have persuaded me. Now I dare not say +I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me. +Who should be trusted when one's right hand +Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus, +I am sorry I must never trust thee more, +But count the world a stranger for thy sake. +The private wound is deepest. O, time most +accursed, +'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst! + +PROTEUS My shame and guilt confounds me. +Forgive me, Valentine. If hearty sorrow +Be a sufficient ransom for offense, +I tender 't here. I do as truly suffer +As e'er I did commit. + +VALENTINE Then I am paid, +And once again I do receive thee honest. +Who by repentance is not satisfied +Is nor of heaven nor Earth, for these are pleased; +By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeased. +And that my love may appear plain and free, +All that was mine in Sylvia I give thee. + +JULIA, [aside] +O me unhappy! [She swoons.] + +PROTEUS Look to the boy. + +VALENTINE Why, boy! +Why, wag, how now? What's the matter? Look up. +Speak. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] O, good sir, my master charged +me to deliver a ring to Madam Sylvia, which out of +my neglect was never done. + +PROTEUS Where is that ring, boy? + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] Here 'tis; this is it. +[She rises, and hands him a ring.] + +PROTEUS How, let me see. +Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia. + +JULIA, [as Sebastian] +O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook. +This is the ring you sent to Sylvia. +[She offers another ring.] + +PROTEUS +But how cam'st thou by this ring? At my depart +I gave this unto Julia. + +JULIA +And Julia herself did give it me, +And Julia herself hath brought it hither. +[She reveals herself.] + +PROTEUS How? Julia! + +JULIA +Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths +And entertained 'em deeply in her heart. +How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root! +O, Proteus, let this habit make thee blush. +Be thou ashamed that I have took upon me +Such an immodest raiment, if shame live +In a disguise of love. +It is the lesser blot, modesty finds, +Women to change their shapes than men their minds. + +PROTEUS +"Than men their minds"? 'Tis true. O heaven, were +man +But constant, he were perfect; that one error +Fills him with faults, makes him run through all th' +sins; +Inconstancy falls off ere it begins. +What is in Sylvia's face but I may spy +More fresh in Julia's, with a constant eye? + +VALENTINE, [to Julia and Proteus] Come, come, a +hand from either. +Let me be blest to make this happy close. +'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes. +[Valentine joins the hands of Julia and Proteus.] + +PROTEUS +Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish forever. + +JULIA +And I mine. + +[Enter Thurio, Duke, and Outlaws.] + + +OUTLAWS A prize, a prize, a prize! + +VALENTINE +Forbear, forbear, I say. It is my lord the Duke. +[The Outlaws release the Duke and Thurio.] +Your Grace is welcome to a man disgraced, +Banished Valentine. + +DUKE +Sir Valentine? + +THURIO Yonder is Sylvia, and Sylvia's mine. + +VALENTINE +Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death; +Come not within the measure of my wrath. +Do not name Sylvia thine; if once again, +Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands; +Take but possession of her with a touch-- +I dare thee but to breathe upon my love! + +THURIO +Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I. +I hold him but a fool that will endanger +His body for a girl that loves him not. +I claim her not, and therefore she is thine. + +DUKE +The more degenerate and base art thou +To make such means for her as thou hast done, +And leave her on such slight conditions.-- +Now, by the honor of my ancestry, +I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine, +And think thee worthy of an empress' love. +Know, then, I here forget all former griefs, +Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again, +Plead a new state in thy unrivaled merit, +To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine, +Thou art a gentleman, and well derived; +Take thou thy Sylvia, for thou hast deserved her. + +VALENTINE +I thank your Grace, the gift hath made me happy. +I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, +To grant one boon that I shall ask of you. + +DUKE +I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be. + +VALENTINE +These banished men, that I have kept withal, +Are men endued with worthy qualities. +Forgive them what they have committed here, +And let them be recalled from their exile; +They are reformed, civil, full of good, +And fit for great employment, worthy lord. + +DUKE +Thou hast prevailed; I pardon them and thee. +Dispose of them as thou know'st their deserts. +Come, let us go; we will include all jars +With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity. + +VALENTINE +And as we walk along, I dare be bold +With our discourse to make your Grace to smile. +[Pointing to Julia.] What think you of this page, my +lord? + +DUKE +I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes. + +VALENTINE +I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy. + +DUKE What mean you by that saying? + +VALENTINE +Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, +That you will wonder what hath fortuned.-- +Come, Proteus, 'tis your penance but to hear +The story of your loves discovered. +That done, our day of marriage shall be yours, +One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-two-noble-kinsmen_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-two-noble-kinsmen_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d50ab0 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-two-noble-kinsmen_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4938 @@ +The Two Noble Kinsmen +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-two-noble-kinsmen/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +PROLOGUE +The two noble kinsmen, cousins, nephews of Creon, King of Thebes: + ARCITE + PALAMON +THESEUS, Duke of Athens +HIPPOLYTA, Queen of the Amazons, later Duchess of Athens +EMILIA, her sister +PIRITHOUS, friend to Theseus +Three QUEENS, widows of the kings killed in laying siege to Thebes +The JAILER of Theseus's prison +The Jailer's DAUGHTER +The Jailer's BROTHER +The WOOER of the Jailer's daughter +Two FRIENDS of the Jailer +A DOCTOR +ARTESIUS, an Athenian soldier +VALERIUS, a Theban +WOMAN, attending on Emilia +An Athenian GENTLEMAN +Six KNIGHTS, three accompanying Arcite, three Palamon +Six COUNTRYMEN, one dressed as a BAVIAN or baboon +A SCHOOLMASTER +NELL, a countrywoman +A TABORER +A singing BOY, a HERALD, MESSENGERS, a SERVANT +EPILOGUE +Hymen (god of weddings), lords, soldiers, four countrywomen (Fritz, Maudlin, Luce, and Barbary), nymphs, attendants, maids, executioner, guard + + +[Flourish. Enter Prologue.] + + +PROLOGUE +New plays and maidenheads are near akin: +Much followed both, for both much money giv'n, +If they stand sound and well. And a good play, +Whose modest scenes blush on his marriage day +And shake to lose his honor, is like her +That after holy tie and first night's stir +Yet still is modesty, and still retains +More of the maid, to sight, than husband's pains. +We pray our play may be so, for I am sure +It has a noble breeder and a pure, +A learned, and a poet never went +More famous yet 'twixt Po and silver Trent. +Chaucer, of all admired, the story gives; +There, constant to eternity, it lives. +If we let fall the nobleness of this, +And the first sound this child hear be a hiss, +How will it shake the bones of that good man +And make him cry from underground "O, fan +From me the witless chaff of such a writer +That blasts my bays and my famed works makes +lighter +Than Robin Hood!" This is the fear we bring; +For, to say truth, it were an endless thing +And too ambitious, to aspire to him, +Weak as we are, and, almost breathless, swim +In this deep water. Do but you hold out +Your helping hands, and we shall tack about +And something do to save us. You shall hear +Scenes, though below his art, may yet appear +Worth two hours' travel. To his bones sweet sleep; +Content to you. If this play do not keep +A little dull time from us, we perceive +Our losses fall so thick we must needs leave. +[Flourish. He exits.] + + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Music. Enter Hymen with a torch burning, a Boy in +a white robe before, singing and strewing flowers. +After Hymen, a Nymph encompassed in her tresses, +bearing a wheaten garland; then Theseus between +two other Nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their +heads. Then Hippolyta, the bride, led by Pirithous, +and another holding a garland over her head, her +tresses likewise hanging. After her, Emilia, holding +up her train. Then Artesius and Attendants.] + +The Song, sung by the Boy. + + Roses, their sharp spines being gone, + Not royal in their smells alone, + But in their hue; + Maiden pinks, of odor faint, + Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, + And sweet thyme true; + Primrose, firstborn child of Ver, + Merry springtime's harbinger, + With her bells dim; + Oxlips in their cradles growing, + Marigolds on deathbeds blowing, + Lark's-heels trim; + All dear Nature's children sweet + Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, +[Strew flowers.] + Blessing their sense. + Not an angel of the air, + Bird melodious or bird fair, + Is absent hence. + The crow, the sland'rous cuckoo, nor + The boding raven, nor chough hoar, + Nor chatt'ring pie, + May on our bridehouse perch or sing, + Or with them any discord bring, + But from it fly. + +[Enter three Queens in black, with veils stained, with +imperial crowns. The first Queen falls down at the foot +of Theseus; the second falls down at the foot of +Hippolyta; the third before Emilia.] + + +FIRST QUEEN, [to Theseus] +For pity's sake and true gentility's, +Hear and respect me. + +SECOND QUEEN, [to Hippolyta] For your mother's sake, +And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair +ones, +Hear and respect me. + +THIRD QUEEN, [to Emilia] +Now for the love of him whom Jove hath marked +The honor of your bed, and for the sake +Of clear virginity, be advocate +For us and our distresses. This good deed +Shall raze you out o' th' book of trespasses +All you are set down there. + +THESEUS, [to First Queen] +Sad lady, rise. + +HIPPOLYTA, [to Second Queen] Stand up. + +EMILIA, [to Third Queen] No knees to me. +What woman I may stead that is distressed +Does bind me to her. + +THESEUS, [to First Queen] +What's your request? Deliver you for all. + +FIRST QUEEN +We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before +The wrath of cruel Creon; who endured +The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites, +And pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes. +He will not suffer us to burn their bones, +To urn their ashes, nor to take th' offense +Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye +Of holy Phoebus, but infects the winds +With stench of our slain lords. O, pity, duke! +Thou purger of the Earth, draw thy feared sword +That does good turns to th' world; give us the bones +Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them; +And of thy boundless goodness take some note +That for our crowned heads we have no roof +Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, +And vault to everything. + +THESEUS Pray you, kneel not. +I was transported with your speech and suffered +Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the +fortunes +Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting +As wakes my vengeance and revenge for 'em. +King Capaneus was your lord. The day +That he should marry you, at such a season +As now it is with me, I met your groom +By Mars's altar. You were that time fair-- +Not Juno's mantle fairer than your tresses, +Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten +wreath +Was then nor threshed nor blasted. Fortune at you +Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules, our +kinsman, +Then weaker than your eyes, laid by his club; +He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide +And swore his sinews thawed. O grief and time, +Fearful consumers, you will all devour! + +FIRST QUEEN O, I hope some god, +Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, +Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth +Our undertaker. + +THESEUS O, no knees, none, widow! +Unto the helmeted Bellona use them +And pray for me, your soldier. [The First Queen rises.] +Troubled I am. [Turns away.] + +SECOND QUEEN Honored Hippolyta, +Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain +The scythe-tusked boar; that with thy arm, as strong +As it is white, wast near to make the male +To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord, +Born to uphold creation in that honor +First nature styled it in, shrunk thee into +The bound thou wast o'erflowing, at once subduing +Thy force and thy affection; soldieress +That equally canst poise sternness with pity, +Whom now I know hast much more power on him +Than ever he had on thee, who ow'st his strength +And his love too, who is a servant for +The tenor of thy speech, dear glass of ladies, +Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scorch, +Under the shadow of his sword may cool us; +Require him he advance it o'er our heads; +Speak 't in a woman's key, like such a woman +As any of us three; weep ere you fail. +Lend us a knee; +But touch the ground for us no longer time +Than a dove's motion when the head's plucked off. +Tell him if he i' th' blood-sized field lay swoll'n, +Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, +What you would do. + +HIPPOLYTA Poor lady, say no more. +I had as lief trace this good action with you +As that whereto I am going, and never yet +Went I so willing way. My lord is taken +Heart-deep with your distress; let him consider. +I'll speak anon. [Second Queen rises.] + +THIRD QUEEN O, my petition was +Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied +Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, +Is pressed with deeper matter. + +EMILIA Pray stand up. +Your grief is written in your cheek. + +THIRD QUEEN O, woe! +You cannot read it there. [She rises.] +There through my tears, +Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream, +You may behold 'em. Lady, lady, alack! +He that will all the treasure know o' th' Earth +Must know the center too; he that will fish +For my least minnow, let him lead his line +To catch one at my heart. O, pardon me! +Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits, +Makes me a fool. + +EMILIA Pray you say nothing, pray you. +Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in 't, +Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were +The groundpiece of some painter, I would buy you +T' instruct me 'gainst a capital grief--indeed, +Such heart-pierced demonstration. But, alas, +Being a natural sister of our sex, +Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me +That it shall make a counter-reflect 'gainst +My brother's heart and warm it to some pity, +Though it were made of stone. Pray have good +comfort. + +THESEUS, [coming forward] +Forward to th' temple. Leave not out a jot +O' th' sacred ceremony. + +FIRST QUEEN O, this celebration +Will longer last and be more costly than +Your suppliants' war. Remember that your fame +Knolls in the ear o' th' world; what you do quickly +Is not done rashly; your first thought is more +Than others' labored meditance, your premeditating +More than their actions. But, O Jove, your actions, +Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish, +Subdue before they touch. Think, dear duke, think +What beds our slain kings have! + +SECOND QUEEN What griefs our beds, +That our dear lords have none! + +THIRD QUEEN None fit for th' dead. +Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance, +Weary of this world's light, have to themselves +Been death's most horrid agents, human grace +Affords them dust and shadow. + +FIRST QUEEN But our lords +Lie blist'ring 'fore the visitating sun, +And were good kings when living. + +THESEUS +It is true, and I will give you comfort +To give your dead lords graves; +The which to do must make some work with Creon. + +FIRST QUEEN +And that work presents itself to th' doing. +Now 'twill take form; the heats are gone tomorrow. +Then, bootless toil must recompense itself +With its own sweat. Now he's secure, +Not dreams we stand before your puissance, +Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes +To make petition clear. + +SECOND QUEEN Now you may take him, +Drunk with his victory. + +THIRD QUEEN And his army full +Of bread and sloth. + +THESEUS Artesius, that best knowest +How to draw out, fit to this enterprise, +The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number +To carry such a business: forth and levy +Our worthiest instruments, whilst we dispatch +This grand act of our life, this daring deed +Of fate in wedlock. + +FIRST QUEEN, [to Second and Third Queens] +Dowagers, take hands. +Let us be widows to our woes. Delay +Commends us to a famishing hope. + +ALL THE QUEENS Farewell. + +SECOND QUEEN +We come unseasonably; but when could grief +Cull forth, as unpanged judgment can, fitt'st time +For best solicitation? + +THESEUS Why, good ladies, +This is a service whereto I am going +Greater than any was; it more imports me +Than all the actions that I have foregone, +Or futurely can cope. + +FIRST QUEEN The more proclaiming +Our suit shall be neglected when her arms, +Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall +By warranting moonlight corselet thee. O, when +Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall +Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think +Of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What care +For what thou feel'st not, what thou feel'st being +able +To make Mars spurn his drum? O, if thou couch +But one night with her, every hour in 't will +Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and +Thou shalt remember nothing more than what +That banquet bids thee to. + +HIPPOLYTA, [to Theseus] Though much unlike +You should be so transported, as much sorry +I should be such a suitor, yet I think +Did I not, by th' abstaining of my joy-- +Which breeds a deeper longing--cure their surfeit +That craves a present med'cine, I should pluck +All ladies' scandal on me. [She kneels.] +Therefore, sir, +As I shall here make trial of my prayers, +Either presuming them to have some force, +Or sentencing for aye their vigor dumb, +Prorogue this business we are going about, and +hang +Your shield afore your heart--about that neck +Which is my fee, and which I freely lend +To do these poor queens service. + +ALL QUEENS, [to Emilia] O, help now! +Our cause cries for your knee. + +EMILIA, [to Theseus, kneeling] If you grant not +My sister her petition in that force, +With that celerity and nature which +She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare +To ask you anything, nor be so hardy +Ever to take a husband. + +THESEUS Pray stand up. +[Hippolyta and Emilia rise.] +I am entreating of myself to do +That which you kneel to have me.--Pirithous, +Lead on the bride; get you and pray the gods +For success and return; omit not anything +In the pretended celebration.--Queens, +Follow your soldier. [To Artesius.] As before, hence +you, +And at the banks of Aulis meet us with +The forces you can raise, where we shall find +The moiety of a number for a business +More bigger looked. [Artesius exits.] +[To Hippolyta.] Since that our theme is haste, +I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip; +Sweet, keep it as my token.--Set you forward, +For I will see you gone. +[The wedding procession begins to exit +towards the temple.] +Farewell, my beauteous sister.--Pirithous, +Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on 't. + +PIRITHOUS Sir, +I'll follow you at heels. The feast's solemnity +Shall want till your return. + +THESEUS Cousin, I charge you, +Budge not from Athens. We shall be returning +Ere you can end this feast, of which I pray you +Make no abatement.--Once more, farewell all. +[All but Theseus and the Queens exit.] + +FIRST QUEEN +Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o' th' +world. + +SECOND QUEEN +And earn'st a deity equal with Mars. + +THIRD QUEEN If not above him, for +Thou, being but mortal, makest affections bend +To godlike honors; they themselves, some say, +Groan under such a mast'ry. + +THESEUS As we are men, +Thus should we do; being sensually subdued, +We lose our human title. Good cheer, ladies. +Now turn we towards your comforts. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Palamon and Arcite.] + + +ARCITE +Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood +And our prime cousin, yet unhardened in +The crimes of nature, let us leave the city +Thebes, and the temptings in 't, before we further +Sully our gloss of youth, +And here to keep in abstinence we shame +As in incontinence; for not to swim +I' th' aid o' th' current were almost to sink, +At least to frustrate striving; and to follow +The common stream, 'twould bring us to an eddy +Where we should turn or drown; if labor through, +Our gain but life and weakness. + +PALAMON Your advice +Is cried up with example. What strange ruins, +Since first we went to school, may we perceive +Walking in Thebes! Scars and bare weeds +The gain o' th' martialist, who did propound +To his bold ends honor and golden ingots, +Which though he won, he had not, and now flirted +By peace for whom he fought. Who then shall offer +To Mars's so-scorned altar? I do bleed +When such I meet, and wish great Juno would +Resume her ancient fit of jealousy +To get the soldier work, that peace might purge +For her repletion, and retain anew +Her charitable heart, now hard and harsher +Than strife or war could be. + +ARCITE Are you not out? +Meet you no ruin but the soldier in +The cranks and turns of Thebes? You did begin +As if you met decays of many kinds. +Perceive you none that do arouse your pity +But th' unconsidered soldier? + +PALAMON Yes, I pity +Decays where'er I find them, but such most +That, sweating in an honorable toil, +Are paid with ice to cool 'em. + +ARCITE 'Tis not this +I did begin to speak of. This is virtue +Of no respect in Thebes. I spake of Thebes-- +How dangerous, if we will keep our honors, +It is for our residing, where every evil +Hath a good color; where every seeming good's +A certain evil; where not to be e'en jump +As they are here were to be strangers, and, +Such things to be, mere monsters. + +PALAMON 'Tis in our power-- +Unless we fear that apes can tutor 's--to +Be masters of our manners. What need I +Affect another's gait, which is not catching +Where there is faith? Or to be fond upon +Another's way of speech, when by mine own +I may be reasonably conceived--saved too, +Speaking it truly? Why am I bound +By any generous bond to follow him +Follows his tailor, haply so long until +The followed make pursuit? Or let me know +Why mine own barber is unblessed, with him +My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissored just +To such a favorite's glass? What canon is there +That does command my rapier from my hip +To dangle 't in my hand, or to go tiptoe +Before the street be foul? Either I am +The forehorse in the team, or I am none +That draw i' th' sequent trace. These poor slight +sores +Need not a plantain. That which rips my bosom +Almost to th' heart's-- + +ARCITE Our Uncle Creon. + +PALAMON He. +A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes +Makes heaven unfeared and villainy assured +Beyond its power there's nothing; almost puts +Faith in a fever, and deifies alone +Voluble chance; who only attributes +The faculties of other instruments +To his own nerves and act; commands men service, +And what they win in 't, boot and glory; one +That fears not to do harm; good, dares not. Let +The blood of mine that's sib to him be sucked +From me with leeches; let them break and fall +Off me with that corruption. + +ARCITE Clear-spirited cousin, +Let's leave his court, that we may nothing share +Of his loud infamy; for our milk +Will relish of the pasture, and we must +Be vile or disobedient, not his kinsmen +In blood unless in quality. + +PALAMON Nothing truer. +I think the echoes of his shames have deafed +The ears of heav'nly justice. Widows' cries +Descend again into their throats and have not +Due audience of the gods. + +[Enter Valerius.] + +Valerius. + +VALERIUS +The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed +Till his great rage be off him. Phoebus, when +He broke his whipstock and exclaimed against +The horses of the sun, but whispered to +The loudness of his fury. + +PALAMON Small winds shake him. +But what's the matter? + +VALERIUS +Theseus, who where he threats appalls, hath sent +Deadly defiance to him and pronounces +Ruin to Thebes, who is at hand to seal +The promise of his wrath. + +ARCITE Let him approach. +But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not +A jot of terror to us. Yet what man +Thirds his own worth--the case is each of ours-- +When that his action's dregged with mind assured +'Tis bad he goes about? + +PALAMON Leave that unreasoned. +Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon. +Yet to be neutral to him were dishonor, +Rebellious to oppose. Therefore we must +With him stand to the mercy of our fate, +Who hath bounded our last minute. + +ARCITE So we must. +[To Valerius.] Is 't said this war's afoot? Or, it shall +be, +On fail of some condition? + +VALERIUS 'Tis in motion; +The intelligence of state came in the instant +With the defier. + +PALAMON Let's to the King, who, were he +A quarter carrier of that honor which +His enemy come in, the blood we venture +Should be as for our health, which were not spent, +Rather laid out for purchase. But alas, +Our hands advanced before our hearts, what will +The fall o' th' stroke do damage? + +ARCITE Let th' event, +That never-erring arbitrator, tell us +When we know all ourselves, and let us follow +The becking of our chance. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia.] + + +PIRITHOUS +No further. + +HIPPOLYTA Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes +To our great lord, of whose success I dare not +Make any timorous question; yet I wish him +Excess and overflow of power, an 't might be, +To dure ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him. +Store never hurts good governors. + +PIRITHOUS Though I know +His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they +Must yield their tribute there.--My precious maid, +Those best affections that the heavens infuse +In their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned +In your dear heart! + +EMILIA Thanks, sir. Remember me +To our all-royal brother, for whose speed +The great Bellona I'll solicit; and +Since in our terrene state petitions are not +Without gifts understood, I'll offer to her +What I shall be advised she likes. Our hearts +Are in his army, in his tent. + +HIPPOLYTA In 's bosom. +We have been soldiers, and we cannot weep +When our friends don their helms or put to sea, +Or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women +That have sod their infants in--and after ate them-- +The brine they wept at killing 'em. Then if +You stay to see of us such spinsters, we +Should hold you here forever. + +PIRITHOUS Peace be to you +As I pursue this war, which shall be then +Beyond further requiring. [Pirithous exits.] + +EMILIA How his longing +Follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports, +Though craving seriousness and skill, passed slightly +His careless execution, where nor gain +Made him regard, or loss consider, but +Playing one business in his hand, another +Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal +To these so diff'ring twins. Have you observed him +Since our great lord departed? + +HIPPOLYTA With much labor, +And I did love him for 't. They two have cabined +In many as dangerous as poor a corner, +Peril and want contending; they have skiffed +Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power +I' th' least of these was dreadful, and they have +Fought out together where Death's self was lodged. +Yet fate hath brought them off. Their knot of love, +Tied, weaved, entangled, with so true, so long, +And with a finger of so deep a cunning, +May be outworn, never undone. I think +Theseus cannot be umpire to himself, +Cleaving his conscience into twain and doing +Each side like justice, which he loves best. + +EMILIA Doubtless +There is a best, and reason has no manners +To say it is not you. I was acquainted +Once with a time when I enjoyed a playfellow; +You were at wars when she the grave enriched, +Who made too proud the bed; took leave o' th' moon, +Which then looked pale at parting, when our count +Was each eleven. + +HIPPOLYTA 'Twas Flavina. + +EMILIA Yes. +You talk of Pirithous' and Theseus' love. +Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned, +More buckled with strong judgment, and their needs +The one of th' other may be said to water +Their intertangled roots of love. But I, +And she I sigh and spoke of, were things innocent, +Loved for we did, and like the elements +That know not what nor why, yet do effect +Rare issues by their operance, our souls +Did so to one another. What she liked +Was then of me approved, what not, condemned, +No more arraignment. The flower that I would pluck +And put between my breasts--O, then but beginning +To swell about the blossom--she would long +Till she had such another, and commit it +To the like innocent cradle, where, Phoenix-like, +They died in perfume. On my head no toy +But was her pattern; her affections--pretty, +Though haply hers careless were--I followed +For my most serious decking. Had mine ear +Stol'n some new air, or at adventure hummed one +From musical coinage, why, it was a note +Whereon her spirits would sojourn--rather, dwell +on-- +And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal-- +Which fury-innocent wots well comes in +Like old importment's bastard--has this end, +That the true love 'tween maid and maid may be +More than in sex individual. + +HIPPOLYTA You're out of breath, +And this high-speeded pace is but to say +That you shall never--like the maid Flavina-- +Love any that's called man. + +EMILIA I am sure I shall not. + +HIPPOLYTA Now, alack, weak sister, +I must no more believe thee in this point-- +Though in 't I know thou dost believe thyself-- +Than I will trust a sickly appetite, +That loathes even as it longs. But sure, my sister, +If I were ripe for your persuasion, you +Have said enough to shake me from the arm +Of the all-noble Theseus, for whose fortunes +I will now in and kneel, with great assurance +That we, more than his Pirithous, possess +The high throne in his heart. + +EMILIA I am not +Against your faith, yet I continue mine. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Cornets. A battle struck within; then a retreat. +Flourish. Then enter, through one door, Theseus, +victor, accompanied by Lords and Soldiers. +Entering through another door, the three Queens +meet him, and fall on their faces before him.] + + +FIRST QUEEN +To thee no star be dark! + +SECOND QUEEN Both heaven and Earth +Friend thee forever. + +THIRD QUEEN All the good that may +Be wished upon thy head, I cry "Amen" to 't! + +THESEUS +Th' impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens +View us their mortal herd, behold who err +And, in their time, chastise. Go and find out +The bones of your dead lords and honor them +With treble ceremony; rather than a gap +Should be in their dear rites, we would supply 't; +But those we will depute which shall invest +You in your dignities and even each thing +Our haste does leave imperfect. So, adieu, +And heaven's good eyes look on you. [Queens exit.] + +[Enter a Herald and Soldiers bearing Palamon +and Arcite on biers.] + +What are those? + +HERALD +Men of great quality, as may be judged +By their appointment. Some of Thebes have told 's +They are sisters' children, nephews to the King. + +THESEUS +By th' helm of Mars, I saw them in the war, +Like to a pair of lions, smeared with prey, +Make lanes in troops aghast. I fixed my note +Constantly on them, for they were a mark +Worth a god's view. What prisoner was 't that told me +When I enquired their names? + +HERALD Wi' leave, they're called +Arcite and Palamon. + +THESEUS 'Tis right; those, those. +They are not dead? + +HERALD +Nor in a state of life. Had they been taken +When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible +They might have been recovered. Yet they breathe +And have the name of men. + +THESEUS Then like men use 'em. +The very lees of such, millions of rates, +Exceed the wine of others. All our surgeons +Convent in their behoof; our richest balms, +Rather than niggard, waste. Their lives concern us +Much more than Thebes is worth. Rather than have +'em +Freed of this plight, and in their morning state, +Sound and at liberty, I would 'em dead. +But forty-thousandfold we had rather have 'em +Prisoners to us than Death. Bear 'em speedily +From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister +What man to man may do--for our sake, more, +Since I have known frights, fury, friends' behests, +Love's provocations, zeal, a mistress' task, +Desire of liberty, a fever, madness, +Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to +Without some imposition, sickness in will +O'er-wrestling strength in reason. For our love +And great Apollo's mercy, all our best +Their best skill tender.--Lead into the city, +Where, having bound things scattered, we will post +To Athens 'fore our army. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Music. Enter the Queens with the hearses of their +knights, in a funeral solemnity, &c.] + +The dirge. + + Urns and odors bring away; + Vapors, sighs, darken the day; + Our dole more deadly looks than dying; + Balms and gums and heavy cheers, + Sacred vials filled with tears, + And clamors through the wild air flying. + Come, all sad and solemn shows + That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes; + We convent naught else but woes. + We convent naught else but woes. + +THIRD QUEEN, [to Second Queen] +This funeral path brings to your household's grave. +Joy seize on you again; peace sleep with him. + +SECOND QUEEN, [to First Queen] +And this to yours. + +FIRST QUEEN, [to Third Queen] Yours this way. Heavens +lend +A thousand differing ways to one sure end. + +THIRD QUEEN +This world's a city full of straying streets, +And death's the market-place where each one meets. +[They exit severally.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Jailer and Wooer.] + + +JAILER I may depart with little while I live; something I +may cast to you, not much. Alas, the prison I keep, +though it be for great ones, yet they seldom come; +before one salmon you shall take a number of minnows. +I am given out to be better lined than it can +appear to me report is a true speaker. I would I +were really that I am delivered to be. Marry, what +I have, be it what it will, I will assure upon my +daughter at the day of my death. + +WOOER Sir, I demand no more than your own offer, +and I will estate your daughter in what I have +promised. + +JAILER Well, we will talk more of this when the solemnity +is past. But have you a full promise of her? +When that shall be seen, I tender my consent. + +[Enter the Jailer's Daughter, carrying rushes.] + + +WOOER I have sir. Here she comes. + +JAILER, [to Daughter] Your friend and I have chanced +to name you here, upon the old business. But no +more of that now; so soon as the court hurry is +over, we will have an end of it. I' th' meantime, +look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you +they are princes. + +DAUGHTER These strewings are for their chamber. 'Tis +pity they are in prison, and 'twere pity they should +be out. I do think they have patience to make any +adversity ashamed. The prison itself is proud of +'em, and they have all the world in their chamber. + +JAILER They are famed to be a pair of absolute men. + +DAUGHTER By my troth, I think fame but stammers +'em. They stand a grise above the reach of report. + +JAILER I heard them reported in the battle to be the +only doers. + +DAUGHTER Nay, most likely, for they are noble suff'rers. +I marvel how they would have looked had they +been victors, that with such a constant nobility enforce +a freedom out of bondage, making misery +their mirth and affliction a toy to jest at. + +JAILER Do they so? + +DAUGHTER It seems to me they have no more sense +of their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat +well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but +nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet +sometimes a divided sigh, martyred as 'twere i' th' +deliverance, will break from one of them--when +the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that +I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least +a sigher to be comforted. + +WOOER I never saw 'em. + +JAILER The Duke himself came privately in the night, +and so did they. + +[Enter Palamon and Arcite, in shackles, above.] + +What the reason of it is, I know not. Look, yonder +they are; that's Arcite looks out. + +DAUGHTER No, sir, no, that's Palamon. Arcite is the +lower of the twain; you may perceive a part of +him. + +JAILER Go to, leave your pointing; they would not +make us their object. Out of their sight. + +DAUGHTER It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the +diff'rence of men! +[Jailer, Daughter, and Wooer exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Palamon and Arcite remain, above.] + + + +PALAMON +How do you, noble cousin? + +ARCITE How do you, sir? + +PALAMON +Why, strong enough to laugh at misery +And bear the chance of war; yet we are prisoners +I fear forever, cousin. + +ARCITE I believe it, +And to that destiny have patiently +Laid up my hour to come. + +PALAMON O, cousin Arcite, +Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country? +Where are our friends and kindreds? Never more +Must we behold those comforts, never see +The hardy youths strive for the games of honor, +Hung with the painted favors of their ladies, +Like tall ships under sail; then start amongst 'em +And as an east wind leave 'em all behind us, +Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite, +Even in the wagging of a wanton leg, +Outstripped the people's praises, won the garlands +Ere they have time to wish 'em ours. O, never +Shall we two exercise, like twins of honor, +Our arms again, and feel our fiery horses +Like proud seas under us. Our good swords now-- +Better the red-eyed god of war ne'er wore-- +Ravished our sides, like age must run to rust +And deck the temples of those gods that hate us; +These hands shall never draw 'em out like lightning +To blast whole armies more. + +ARCITE No, Palamon, +Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are +And here the graces of our youths must wither +Like a too-timely spring. Here age must find us +And--which is heaviest, Palamon--unmarried. +The sweet embraces of a loving wife, +Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids, +Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us-- +No figures of ourselves shall we e'er see, +To glad our age, and like young eagles teach 'em +Boldly to gaze against bright arms and say +"Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!" +The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments +And in their songs curse ever-blinded Fortune +Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done +To youth and nature. This is all our world. +We shall know nothing here but one another, +Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes. +The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it; +Summer shall come, and with her all delights, +But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still. + +PALAMON +'Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds +That shook the aged forest with their echoes +No more now must we halloo; no more shake +Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine +Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages, +Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses, +The food and nourishment of noble minds, +In us two here shall perish; we shall die, +Which is the curse of honor, lastly, +Children of grief and ignorance. + +ARCITE Yet, cousin, +Even from the bottom of these miseries, +From all that fortune can inflict upon us, +I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings, +If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience, +And the enjoying of our griefs together. +Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish +If I think this our prison! + +PALAMON Certainly +'Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes +Were twined together. 'Tis most true, two souls +Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer +The gall of hazard, so they grow together, +Will never sink; they must not, say they could. +A willing man dies sleeping and all's done. + +ARCITE +Shall we make worthy uses of this place +That all men hate so much? + +PALAMON How, gentle cousin? + +ARCITE +Let's think this prison holy sanctuary +To keep us from corruption of worse men. +We are young and yet desire the ways of honor +That liberty and common conversation, +The poison of pure spirits, might like women +Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing +Can be but our imaginations +May make it ours? And here being thus together, +We are an endless mine to one another; +We are one another's wife, ever begetting +New births of love; we are father, friends, +acquaintance; +We are, in one another, families; +I am your heir, and you are mine. This place +Is our inheritance; no hard oppressor +Dare take this from us; here with a little patience +We shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us; +The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas +Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty, +A wife might part us lawfully, or business; +Quarrels consume us; envy of ill men +Crave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin, +Where you should never know it, and so perish +Without your noble hand to close mine eyes, +Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances, +Were we from hence, would sever us. + +PALAMON You have made +me-- +I thank you, cousin Arcite--almost wanton +With my captivity. What a misery +It is to live abroad and everywhere! +'Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here, +I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasures +That woo the wills of men to vanity +I see through now, and am sufficient +To tell the world 'tis but a gaudy shadow +That old Time as he passes by takes with him. +What had we been, old in the court of Creon, +Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance +The virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcite, +Had not the loving gods found this place for us, +We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept, +And had their epitaphs, the people's curses. +Shall I say more? + +ARCITE I would hear you still. + +PALAMON You shall. +Is there record of any two that loved +Better than we do, Arcite? + +ARCITE Sure there cannot. + +PALAMON +I do not think it possible our friendship +Should ever leave us. + +ARCITE Till our deaths it cannot. + +[Enter Emilia and her Woman, below.] + +And after death our spirits shall be led +To those that love eternally. [Palamon catches sight +of Emilia.] +Speak on, sir. + +EMILIA, [to her Woman] +This garden has a world of pleasures in 't. +What flower is this? + +WOMAN 'Tis called narcissus, madam. + +EMILIA +That was a fair boy certain, but a fool +To love himself. Were there not maids enough? + +ARCITE, [to Palamon, who is stunned by the sight of Emilia] +Pray, forward. + +PALAMON Yes. + +EMILIA, [to Woman] Or were they all hard-hearted? + +WOMAN +They could not be to one so fair. + +EMILIA Thou wouldst not. + +WOMAN +I think I should not, madam. + +EMILIA That's a good wench. +But take heed to your kindness, though. + +WOMAN Why, +madam? + +EMILIA +Men are mad things. + +ARCITE, [to Palamon] Will you go forward, +cousin? + +EMILIA, [to Woman] +Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench? + +WOMAN Yes. + +EMILIA +I'll have a gown full of 'em, and of these. +This is pretty color. Will 't not do +Rarely upon a skirt, wench? + +WOMAN Dainty, madam. + +ARCITE, [to Palamon] +Cousin, cousin! How do you, sir? Why, Palamon! + +PALAMON +Never till now I was in prison, Arcite. + +ARCITE +Why, what's the matter, man? + +PALAMON Behold, and wonder! +By heaven, she is a goddess. + +ARCITE, [seeing Emilia] Ha! + +PALAMON Do reverence. +She is a goddess, Arcite. + +EMILIA, [to Woman] Of all flowers +Methinks a rose is best. + +WOMAN Why, gentle madam? + +EMILIA +It is the very emblem of a maid. +For when the west wind courts her gently, +How modestly she blows and paints the sun +With her chaste blushes! When the north comes +near her, +Rude and impatient, then, like chastity, +She locks her beauties in her bud again, +And leaves him to base briers. + +WOMAN Yet, good madam, +Sometimes her modesty will blow so far +She falls for 't. A maid, +If she have any honor, would be loath +To take example by her. + +EMILIA Thou art wanton! + +ARCITE, [to Palamon] +She is wondrous fair. + +PALAMON She is all the beauty extant. + +EMILIA, [to Woman] +The sun grows high. Let's walk in. Keep these +flowers. +We'll see how near art can come near their colors. +I am wondrous merry-hearted. I could laugh now. + +WOMAN +I could lie down, I am sure. + +EMILIA And take one with you? + +WOMAN +That's as we bargain, madam. + +EMILIA Well, agree then. +[Emilia and Woman exit.] + +PALAMON +What think you of this beauty? + +ARCITE 'Tis a rare one. + +PALAMON +Is 't but a rare one? + +ARCITE Yes, a matchless beauty. + +PALAMON +Might not a man well lose himself and love her? + +ARCITE +I cannot tell what you have done; I have, +Beshrew mine eyes for 't! Now I feel my shackles. + +PALAMON +You love her, then? + +ARCITE Who would not? + +PALAMON And desire her? + +ARCITE +Before my liberty. + +PALAMON I saw her first. + +ARCITE +That's nothing. + +PALAMON But it shall be. + +ARCITE I saw her, too. + +PALAMON Yes, but you must not love her. + +ARCITE +I will not, as you do, to worship her +As she is heavenly and a blessed goddess. +I love her as a woman, to enjoy her. +So both may love. + +PALAMON You shall not love at all. + +ARCITE Not love at all! Who shall deny me? + +PALAMON +I, that first saw her; I that took possession +First with mine eye of all those beauties +In her revealed to mankind. If thou lov'st her, +Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes, +Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow +False as thy title to her. Friendship, blood, +And all the ties between us I disclaim +If thou once think upon her. + +ARCITE Yes, I love her, +And, if the lives of all my name lay on it, +I must do so. I love her with my soul. +If that will lose you, farewell, Palamon. +I say again, I love, and in loving her maintain +I am as worthy and as free a lover +And have as just a title to her beauty +As any Palamon or any living +That is a man's son. + +PALAMON Have I called thee friend? + +ARCITE +Yes, and have found me so. Why are you moved +thus? +Let me deal coldly with you: am not I +Part of your blood, part of your soul? You have +told me +That I was Palamon and you were Arcite. + +PALAMON +Yes. + +ARCITE Am not I liable to those affections, +Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall +suffer? + +PALAMON +You may be. + +ARCITE Why then would you deal so cunningly, +So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman, +To love alone? Speak truly, do you think me +Unworthy of her sight? + +PALAMON No, but unjust +If thou pursue that sight. + +ARCITE Because another +First sees the enemy, shall I stand still +And let mine honor down, and never charge? + +PALAMON +Yes, if he be but one. + +ARCITE But say that one +Had rather combat me? + +PALAMON Let that one say so, +And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her, +Be as that cursed man that hates his country, +A branded villain. + +ARCITE You are mad. + +PALAMON I must be. +Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me. +And in this madness if I hazard thee +And take thy life, I deal but truly. + +ARCITE Fie, sir! +You play the child extremely. I will love her; +I must, I ought to do so, and I dare, +And all this justly. + +PALAMON O, that now, that now, +Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune +To be one hour at liberty, and grasp +Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly +teach thee +What 'twere to filch affection from another. +Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse. +Put but thy head out of this window more +And, as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to 't. + +ARCITE +Thou dar'st not, fool; thou canst not; thou art feeble. +Put my head out? I'll throw my body out +And leap the garden when I see her next, +And pitch between her arms to anger thee. + +[Enter Jailer, above.] + + +PALAMON +No more; the keeper's coming. I shall live +To knock thy brains out with my shackles. + +ARCITE Do! + +JAILER +By your leave, gentlemen. + +PALAMON Now, honest keeper? + +JAILER +Lord Arcite, you must presently to th' Duke; +The cause I know not yet. + +ARCITE I am ready, keeper. + +JAILER +Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you +Of your fair cousin's company. +[Arcite and Jailer exit.] + +PALAMON And me too, +Even when you please, of life.--Why is he sent for? +It may be he shall marry her; he's goodly, +And like enough the Duke hath taken notice +Both of his blood and body. But his falsehood! +Why should a friend be treacherous? If that +Get him a wife so noble and so fair, +Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more +I would but see this fair one. Blessed garden +And fruit and flowers more blessed that still +blossom +As her bright eyes shine on you, would I were, +For all the fortune of my life hereafter, +Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock! +How I would spread and fling my wanton arms +In at her window; I would bring her fruit +Fit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasure +Still as she tasted should be doubled on her; +And, if she be not heavenly, I would make her +So near the gods in nature, they should fear her. + +[Enter Jailer, above.] + +And then I am sure she would love me.--How now, +keeper, +Where's Arcite? + +JAILER Banished. Prince Pirithous +Obtained his liberty, but never more +Upon his oath and life must he set foot +Upon this kingdom. + +PALAMON He's a blessed man. +He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms +The bold young men that, when he bids 'em charge, +Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune, +If he dare make himself a worthy lover, +Yet in the field to strike a battle for her, +And, if he lose her then, he's a cold coward. +How bravely may he bear himself to win her +If he be noble Arcite--thousand ways! +Were I at liberty, I would do things +Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady, +This blushing virgin, should take manhood to her +And seek to ravish me. + +JAILER My lord, for you +I have this charge to-- + +PALAMON To discharge my life? + +JAILER +No, but from this place to remove your Lordship; +The windows are too open. + +PALAMON Devils take 'em +That are so envious to me! Prithee, kill me. + +JAILER +And hang for 't afterward! + +PALAMON By this good light, +Had I a sword I would kill thee. + +JAILER Why, my lord? + +PALAMON +Thou bringst such pelting, scurvy news continually, +Thou art not worthy life. I will not go. + +JAILER +Indeed you must, my lord. + +PALAMON May I see the garden? + +JAILER +No. + +PALAMON Then I am resolved, I will not go. + +JAILER +I must constrain you then; and, for you are +dangerous, +I'll clap more irons on you. + +PALAMON Do, good keeper. +I'll shake 'em so, you shall not sleep; +I'll make you a new morris. Must I go? + +JAILER +There is no remedy. + +PALAMON Farewell, kind window. +May rude wind never hurt thee. O, my lady, +If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was, +Dream how I suffer.--Come; now bury me. +[Palamon and Jailer exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Arcite.] + + +ARCITE +Banished the kingdom? 'Tis a benefit, +A mercy I must thank 'em for; but banished +The free enjoying of that face I die for, +O, 'twas a studied punishment, a death +Beyond imagination--such a vengeance +That, were I old and wicked, all my sins +Could never pluck upon me. Palamon, +Thou hast the start now; thou shalt stay and see +Her bright eyes break each morning 'gainst thy +window +And let in life into thee; thou shalt feed +Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty +That nature ne'er exceeded nor ne'er shall. +Good gods, what happiness has Palamon! +Twenty to one he'll come to speak to her, +And if she be as gentle as she's fair, +I know she's his. He has a tongue will tame +Tempests and make the wild rocks wanton. +Come what can come, +The worst is death. I will not leave the kingdom. +I know mine own is but a heap of ruins, +And no redress there. If I go, he has her. +I am resolved another shape shall make me +Or end my fortunes. Either way I am happy. +I'll see her and be near her, or no more. + +[Enter four Country people, and one with +a garland before them.] + +[Arcite steps aside.] + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN My masters, I'll be there, that's +certain. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN And I'll be there. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN And I. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Why, then, have with you, boys. +'Tis but a chiding. Let the plough play today; I'll +tickle 't out of the jades' tails tomorrow. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN I am sure to have my wife as jealous +as a turkey, but that's all one. I'll go through; +let her mumble. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN Clap her aboard tomorrow night +and stow her, and all's made up again. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN Ay, do but put a fescue in her fist +and you shall see her take a new lesson out and be +a good wench. Do we all hold against the Maying? + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Hold? What should ail us? + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN Arcas will be there. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN And Sennois and Rycas; and +three better lads ne'er danced under green tree. +And you know what wenches, ha! But will the +dainty domine, the Schoolmaster, keep touch, do +you think? For he does all, you know. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN He'll eat a hornbook ere he fail. +Go to, the matter's too far driven between him and +the tanner's daughter to let slip now; and she must +see the Duke, and she must dance too. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Shall we be lusty? + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN All the boys in Athens blow wind +i' th' breech on 's. And here I'll be and there I'll be, +for our town, and here again, and there again. Ha, +boys, hey for the weavers! + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN This must be done i' th' woods. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN O pardon me. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN By any means; our thing of learning +says so--where he himself will edify the Duke +most parlously in our behalfs. He's excellent i' th' +woods; bring him to th' plains, his learning makes +no cry. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN We'll see the sports, then every +man to 's tackle. And, sweet companions, let's rehearse, +by any means, before the ladies see us, and +do sweetly, and God knows what may come on 't. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Content. The sports once ended, +we'll perform. Away, boys, and hold. +[Arcite comes forward.] + +ARCITE By your leaves, honest friends: pray you, +whither go you? + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Whither? +Why, what a question's that? + +ARCITE Yes, 'tis a question +To me that know not. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN To the games, my friend. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN +Where were you bred, you know it not? + +ARCITE Not far, sir. +Are there such games today? + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN Yes, marry, are there, +And such as you never saw. The Duke himself +Will be in person there. + +ARCITE What pastimes are they? + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN +Wrestling and running.--'Tis a pretty fellow. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN +Thou wilt not go along? + +ARCITE Not yet, sir. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Well, sir, +Take your own time.--Come, boys. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN, [aside to the others] My mind misgives +me. This fellow has a vengeance trick o' th' +hip. Mark how his body's made for 't. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN, [aside to the others] I'll be +hanged, though, if he dare venture. Hang him, +plum porridge! He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, +let's be gone, lads. [The four exit.] + +ARCITE +This is an offered opportunity +I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled-- +The best men called it excellent--and run +Swifter than wind upon a field of corn, +Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I'll venture, +And in some poor disguise be there. Who knows +Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands, +And happiness prefer me to a place +Where I may ever dwell in sight of her? +[Arcite exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Jailer's Daughter, alone.] + + +DAUGHTER +Why should I love this gentleman? 'Tis odds +He never will affect me. I am base, +My father the mean keeper of his prison, +And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless; +To be his whore is witless. Out upon 't! +What pushes are we wenches driven to +When fifteen once has found us! First, I saw him; +I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man; +He has as much to please a woman in him, +If he please to bestow it so, as ever +These eyes yet looked on. Next, I pitied him, +And so would any young wench, o' my conscience, +That ever dreamed, or vowed her maidenhead +To a young handsome man. Then I loved him, +Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him! +And yet he had a cousin, fair as he too. +But in my heart was Palamon, and there, +Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear him +Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is! +And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken +Was never gentleman. When I come in +To bring him water in a morning, first +He bows his noble body, then salutes me thus: +"Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodness +Get thee a happy husband." Once he kissed me; +I loved my lips the better ten days after. +Would he would do so ev'ry day! He grieves much-- +And me as much to see his misery. +What should I do to make him know I love him? +For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured +To set him free? What says the law then? +Thus much for law or kindred! I will do it, +And this night, or tomorrow, he shall love me. +[She exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[This short flourish of cornets and shouts within. +Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia, Arcite +in disguise, with a garland, Attendants, and others.] + + +THESEUS, [to Arcite] +You have done worthily. I have not seen, +Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews. +Whate'er you are, you run the best and wrestle +That these times can allow. + +ARCITE I am proud to please you. + +THESEUS +What country bred you? + +ARCITE This; but far off, prince. + +THESEUS +Are you a gentleman? + +ARCITE My father said so, +And to those gentle uses gave me life. + +THESEUS +Are you his heir? + +ARCITE His youngest, sir. + +THESEUS Your father, +Sure, is a happy sire, then. What proves you? + +ARCITE +A little of all noble qualities. +I could have kept a hawk and well have hallowed +To a deep cry of dogs. I dare not praise +My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me +Would say it was my best piece. Last, and greatest, +I would be thought a soldier. + +THESEUS You are perfect. + +PIRITHOUS +Upon my soul, a proper man. + +EMILIA He is so. + +PIRITHOUS, [to Hippolyta] +How do you like him, lady? + +HIPPOLYTA I admire him. +I have not seen so young a man so noble, +If he say true, of his sort. + +EMILIA Believe, +His mother was a wondrous handsome woman; +His face, methinks, goes that way. + +HIPPOLYTA But his body +And fiery mind illustrate a brave father. + +PIRITHOUS +Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun, +Breaks through his baser garments. + +HIPPOLYTA He's well got, sure. + +THESEUS, [to Arcite] +What made you seek this place, sir? + +ARCITE Noble Theseus, +To purchase name and do my ablest service +To such a well-found wonder as thy worth; +For only in thy court, of all the world, +Dwells fair-eyed Honor. + +PIRITHOUS All his words are worthy. + +THESEUS +Sir, we are much indebted to your travel, +Nor shall you lose your wish.--Pirithous, +Dispose of this fair gentleman. + +PIRITHOUS Thanks, Theseus.-- +Whate'er you are, you're mine, and I shall give you +To a most noble service: to this lady, +This bright young virgin. +[He brings Arcite to Emilia.] +Pray observe her goodness; +You have honored her fair birthday with your +virtues, +And, as your due, you're hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir. + +ARCITE +Sir, you're a noble giver.--Dearest beauty, +Thus let me seal my vowed faith. +[He kisses her hand.] +When your servant, +Your most unworthy creature, but offends you, +Command him die, he shall. + +EMILIA That were too cruel. +If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see 't. +You're mine, and somewhat better than your rank +I'll use you. + +PIRITHOUS, [to Arcite] +I'll see you furnished, and because you say +You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you +This afternoon to ride--but 'tis a rough one. + +ARCITE +I like him better, prince; I shall not then +Freeze in my saddle. + +THESEUS, [to Hippolyta] Sweet, you must be ready,-- +And you, Emilia,--and you, friend,--and all, +Tomorrow by the sun, to do observance +To flowery May in Dian's wood.--Wait well, sir, +Upon your mistress.--Emily, I hope +He shall not go afoot. + +EMILIA That were a shame, sir, +While I have horses.--Take your choice, and what +You want at any time, let me but know it. +If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you +You'll find a loving mistress. + +ARCITE If I do not, +Let me find that my father ever hated, +Disgrace and blows. + +THESEUS Go lead the way; you have won it. +It shall be so; you shall receive all dues +Fit for the honor you have won. 'Twere wrong else.-- +Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant +That, if I were a woman, would be master; +But you are wise. + +EMILIA I hope too wise for that, sir. +[Flourish. They all exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Jailer's Daughter alone.] + + +DAUGHTER +Let all the dukes and all the devils roar! +He is at liberty. I have ventured for him, +And out I have brought him; to a little wood +A mile hence I have sent him, where a cedar +Higher than all the rest spreads like a plane +Fast by a brook, and there he shall keep close +Till I provide him files and food, for yet +His iron bracelets are not off. O Love, +What a stout-hearted child thou art! My father +Durst better have endured cold iron than done it. +I love him beyond love and beyond reason +Or wit or safety. I have made him know it; +I care not, I am desperate. If the law +Find me and then condemn me for 't, some wenches, +Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirge +And tell to memory my death was noble, +Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes +I purpose is my way too. Sure he cannot +Be so unmanly as to leave me here. +If he do, maids will not so easily +Trust men again. And yet he has not thanked me +For what I have done; no, not so much as kissed me, +And that, methinks, is not so well; nor scarcely +Could I persuade him to become a free man, +He made such scruples of the wrong he did +To me and to my father. Yet I hope, +When he considers more, this love of mine +Will take more root within him. Let him do +What he will with me, so he use me kindly; +For use me so he shall, or I'll proclaim him, +And to his face, no man. I'll presently +Provide him necessaries and pack my clothes up, +And where there is a path of ground I'll venture, +So he be with me. By him like a shadow +I'll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbub +Will be all o'er the prison. I am then +Kissing the man they look for. Farewell, father! +Get many more such prisoners and such daughters, +And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Cornets in sundry places. Noise and hallowing +as people a-Maying. Enter Arcite alone.] + + +ARCITE +The Duke has lost Hippolyta; each took +A several laund. This is a solemn rite +They owe bloomed May, and the Athenians pay it +To th' heart of ceremony. O Queen Emilia, +Fresher than May, sweeter +Than her gold buttons on the boughs, or all +Th' enameled knacks o' th' mead or garden--yea, +We challenge too the bank of any nymph +That makes the stream seem flowers; thou, O jewel +O' th' wood, o' th' world, hast likewise blessed a pace +With thy sole presence. In thy rumination +That I, poor man, might eftsoons come between +And chop on some cold thought! Thrice blessed +chance +To drop on such a mistress, expectation +Most guiltless on 't. Tell me, O Lady Fortune, +Next after Emily my sovereign, how far +I may be proud. She takes strong note of me, +Hath made me near her; and this beauteous morn, +The prim'st of all the year, presents me with +A brace of horses; two such steeds might well +Be by a pair of kings backed, in a field +That their crowns' titles tried. Alas, alas, +Poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner, thou +So little dream'st upon my fortune that +Thou think'st thyself the happier thing, to be +So near Emilia; me thou deem'st at Thebes, +And therein wretched, although free. But if +Thou knew'st my mistress breathed on me, and that +I eared her language, lived in her eye--O coz, +What passion would enclose thee! + +[Enter Palamon as out of a bush, with his shackles; +he bends his fist at Arcite.] + + +PALAMON Traitor kinsman, +Thou shouldst perceive my passion if these signs +Of prisonment were off me, and this hand +But owner of a sword. By all oaths in one, +I and the justice of my love would make thee +A confessed traitor, O thou most perfidious +That ever gently looked, the void'st of honor +That e'er bore gentle token, falsest cousin +That ever blood made kin! Call'st thou her thine? +I'll prove it in my shackles, with these hands, +Void of appointment, that thou liest, and art +A very thief in love, a chaffy lord, +Nor worth the name of villain. Had I a sword, +And these house clogs away-- + +ARCITE Dear cousin Palamon-- + +PALAMON +Cozener Arcite, give me language such +As thou hast showed me feat. + +ARCITE Not finding in +The circuit of my breast any gross stuff +To form me like your blazon holds me to +This gentleness of answer: 'tis your passion +That thus mistakes, the which, to you being enemy, +Cannot to me be kind. Honor and honesty +I cherish and depend on, howsoe'er +You skip them in me, and with them, fair coz, +I'll maintain my proceedings. Pray be pleased +To show in generous terms your griefs, since that +Your question's with your equal, who professes +To clear his own way with the mind and sword +Of a true gentleman. + +PALAMON That thou durst, Arcite! + +ARCITE +My coz, my coz, you have been well advertised +How much I dare; you've seen me use my sword +Against th' advice of fear. Sure, of another +You would not hear me doubted, but your silence +Should break out, though i' th' sanctuary. + +PALAMON Sir, +I have seen you move in such a place which well +Might justify your manhood; you were called +A good knight and a bold. But the whole week's not +fair +If any day it rain; their valiant temper +Men lose when they incline to treachery, +And then they fight like compelled bears--would fly +Were they not tied. + +ARCITE Kinsman, you might as well +Speak this and act it in your glass as to +His ear which now disdains you. + +PALAMON Come up to me; +Quit me of these cold gyves, give me a sword +Though it be rusty, and the charity +Of one meal lend me. Come before me then, +A good sword in thy hand, and do but say +That Emily is thine, I will forgive +The trespass thou hast done me--yea, my life, +If then thou carry 't; and brave souls in shades +That have died manly, which will seek of me +Some news from Earth, they shall get none but this: +That thou art brave and noble. + +ARCITE Be content. +Again betake you to your hawthorn house. +With counsel of the night I will be here +With wholesome viands. These impediments +Will I file off. You shall have garments and +Perfumes to kill the smell o' th' prison. After, +When you shall stretch yourself and say but "Arcite, +I am in plight," there shall be at your choice +Both sword and armor. + +PALAMON O you heavens, dares any +So noble bear a guilty business? None +But only Arcite. Therefore none but Arcite +In this kind is so bold. + +ARCITE Sweet Palamon. + +PALAMON +I do embrace you and your offer; for +Your offer do 't I only. Sir, your person +Without hypocrisy I may not wish +More than my sword's edge on 't. +[Wind horns off; sound cornets.] + +ARCITE You hear the horns. +Enter your muset, lest this match between 's +Be crossed ere met. Give me your hand; farewell. +I'll bring you every needful thing. I pray you, +Take comfort and be strong. + +PALAMON Pray hold your promise, +And do the deed with a bent brow. Most certain +You love me not; be rough with me, and pour +This oil out of your language. By this air, +I could for each word give a cuff, my stomach +Not reconciled by reason. + +ARCITE Plainly spoken, +Yet pardon me hard language. When I spur +My horse, I chide him not; content and anger +In me have but one face. [Wind horns.] +Hark, sir, they call +The scattered to the banquet; you must guess +I have an office there. + +PALAMON Sir, your attendance +Cannot please heaven, and I know your office +Unjustly is achieved. + +ARCITE 'Tis a good title. +I am persuaded this question, sick between 's, +By bleeding must be cured. I am a suitor +That to your sword you will bequeath this plea, +And talk of it no more. + +PALAMON But this one word: +You are going now to gaze upon my mistress, +For note you, mine she is-- + +ARCITE Nay then,-- + +PALAMON Nay, pray you, +You talk of feeding me to breed me strength. +You are going now to look upon a sun +That strengthens what it looks on; there +You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy 't till +I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Jailer's Daughter, alone.] + + +DAUGHTER +He has mistook the brake I meant, is gone +After his fancy. 'Tis now well-nigh morning. +No matter; would it were perpetual night, +And darkness lord o' th' world. Hark, 'tis a wolf! +In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing, +I care for nothing, and that's Palamon. +I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so +He had this file. What if I hallowed for him? +I cannot hallow. If I whooped, what then? +If he not answered, I should call a wolf, +And do him but that service. I have heard +Strange howls this livelong night; why may 't not be +They have made prey of him? He has no weapons; +He cannot run; the jingling of his gyves +Might call fell things to listen, who have in them +A sense to know a man unarmed and can +Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down +He's torn to pieces; they howled many together, +And then they fed on him; so much for that. +Be bold to ring the bell. How stand I then? +All's chared when he is gone. No, no, I lie. +My father's to be hanged for his escape; +Myself to beg, if I prized life so much +As to deny my act, but that I would not, +Should I try death by dozens. I am moped; +Food took I none these two days; +Sipped some water. I have not closed mine eyes +Save when my lids scoured off their brine. Alas, +Dissolve, my life! Let not my sense unsettle, +Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself. +O state of nature, fail together in me, +Since thy best props are warped! So, which way now? +The best way is the next way to a grave; +Each errant step beside is torment. Lo, +The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech +owl +Calls in the dawn. All offices are done +Save what I fail in. But the point is this-- +An end, and that is all. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Arcite with meat, wine, and files.] + + +ARCITE +I should be near the place.--Ho! Cousin Palamon! + +PALAMON, [within] +Arcite? + +ARCITE The same. I have brought you food and files. +Come forth and fear not; here's no Theseus. + +[Enter Palamon.] + + +PALAMON +Nor none so honest, Arcite. + +ARCITE That's no matter. +We'll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage; +You shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink-- +I know you are faint--then I'll talk further with you. + +PALAMON +Arcite, thou mightst now poison me. + +ARCITE I might; +But I must fear you first. Sit down and, good now, +No more of these vain parleys. Let us not, +Having our ancient reputation with us, +Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health. +[He drinks.] + +PALAMON Do! + +ARCITE +Pray sit down, then, and let me entreat you, +By all the honesty and honor in you, +No mention of this woman; 'twill disturb us. +We shall have time enough. + +PALAMON Well, sir, I'll pledge you. +[He drinks.] + +ARCITE +Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, +man. +Do not you feel it thaw you? + +PALAMON Stay, I'll tell you +After a draught or two more. + +ARCITE Spare it not. +The Duke has more, coz. Eat now. + +PALAMON Yes. [He eats.] + +ARCITE I am glad +You have so good a stomach. + +PALAMON I am gladder +I have so good meat to 't. + +ARCITE Is 't not mad lodging +Here in the wild woods, cousin? + +PALAMON Yes, for them +That have wild consciences. + +ARCITE How tastes your +victuals? +Your hunger needs no sauce, I see. + +PALAMON Not much. +But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin. +What is this? + +ARCITE Venison. + +PALAMON 'Tis a lusty meat. +Give me more wine. Here, Arcite, to the wenches +We have known in our days! +[He raises his cup in a toast.] +The Lord Steward's +daughter! +Do you remember her? + +ARCITE After you, coz. + +PALAMON +She loved a black-haired man. + +ARCITE She did so; well, sir? + +PALAMON +And I have heard some call him Arcite, and-- + +ARCITE +Out with 't, faith. + +PALAMON She met him in an arbor. +What did she there, coz? Play o' th' virginals? + +ARCITE +Something she did, sir. + +PALAMON Made her groan a month +for 't-- +Or two, or three, or ten. + +ARCITE The Marshal's sister +Had her share, too, as I remember, cousin, +Else there be tales abroad. You'll pledge her? + +PALAMON Yes. +[He lifts his cup and then drinks.] + +ARCITE +A pretty brown wench 'tis. There was a time +When young men went a-hunting, and a wood, +And a broad beech--and thereby hangs a tale. +Heigh ho! + +PALAMON For Emily, upon my life! Fool, +Away with this strained mirth. I say again +That sigh was breathed for Emily. Base cousin, +Dar'st thou break first? + +ARCITE You are wide. + +PALAMON By heaven and +Earth, +There's nothing in thee honest. + +ARCITE Then I'll leave you. +You are a beast now. + +PALAMON As thou mak'st me, traitor. + +ARCITE +There's all things needful: files and shirts and +perfumes. +I'll come again some two hours hence and bring +That that shall quiet all. + +PALAMON A sword and armor. + +ARCITE +Fear me not. You are now too foul. Farewell. +Get off your trinkets; you shall want naught. + +PALAMON Sirrah-- + +ARCITE +I'll hear no more. +[He exits.] + +PALAMON If he keep touch, he dies for 't. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Jailer's Daughter.] + + +DAUGHTER +I am very cold, and all the stars are out too, +The little stars and all, that look like aglets. +The sun has seen my folly.--Palamon! +Alas, no; he's in heaven. Where am I now? +Yonder's the sea, and there's a ship. How 't tumbles! +And there's a rock lies watching under water. +Now, now, it beats upon it; now, now, now, +There's a leak sprung, a sound one! How they cry! +Open her before the wind; you'll lose all else. +Up with a course or two, and tack about, boys! +Good night, good night; you're gone. I am very +hungry. +Would I could find a fine frog; he would tell me +News from all parts o' th' world; then would I make +A carrack of a cockleshell, and sail +By east and northeast to the king of pygmies, +For he tells fortunes rarely. Now my father, +Twenty to one, is trussed up in a trice +Tomorrow morning. I'll say never a word. +[Sing.] + For I'll cut my green coat a foot above my knee, + And I'll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine +eye. + Hey nonny, nonny, nonny. + He's buy me a white cut, forth for to ride, + And I'll go seek him through the world that is so +wide. + Hey nonny, nonny, nonny. +O, for a prick now, like a nightingale, +To put my breast against. I shall sleep like a top else. +[She exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter a Schoolmaster and six Countrymen, +one dressed as a Bavian.] + + +SCHOOLMASTER Fie, fie, what tediosity and disinsanity +is here among you! Have my rudiments been labored +so long with you, milked unto you, and, by a +figure, even the very plum broth and marrow of +my understanding laid upon you, and do you still +cry "Where?" and "How?" and "Wherefore?" You +most coarse-frieze capacities, you jean judgments, +have I said "Thus let be" and "There let be" +and "Then let be" and no man understand me? Proh +deum, medius fidius, you are all dunces! Forwhy, +here stand I; here the Duke comes; there are you, +close in the thicket; the Duke appears; I meet him +and unto him I utter learned things and many figures; +he hears, and nods, and hums, and then cries +"Rare!" and I go forward. At length I fling my cap +up--mark there! Then do you as once did Meleager +and the boar--break comely out before him; +like true lovers, cast yourselves in a body decently, +and sweetly, by a figure, trace and turn, boys. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN And sweetly we will do it, Master +Gerald. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN Draw up the company. Where's +the taborer? + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN Why, Timothy! + +[Enter the Taborer.] + + +TABORER Here, my mad boys. Have at you! + +SCHOOLMASTER But I say, where's their women? + +[Enter five Wenches.] + + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Here's Fritz and Maudlin. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN And little Luce with the white +legs, and bouncing Barbary. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN And freckled Nell, that never failed +her master. + +SCHOOLMASTER Where be your ribbons, maids? Swim +with your bodies, and carry it sweetly and deliverly, +and now and then a favor and a frisk. + +NELL Let us alone, sir. + +SCHOOLMASTER Where's the rest o' th' music? + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN Dispersed, as you commanded. + +SCHOOLMASTER Couple, then, and see what's wanting. +Where's the Bavian?--My friend, carry your tail +without offense or scandal to the ladies; and be +sure you tumble with audacity and manhood, and +when you bark, do it with judgment. + +BAVIAN Yes, sir. + +SCHOOLMASTER Quo usque tandem? Here is a woman +wanting. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN We may go whistle; all the fat's i' +th' fire. + +SCHOOLMASTER We have, as learned authors utter, +washed a tile; we have been fatuus and labored +vainly. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN This is that scornful piece, that +scurvy hilding that gave her promise faithfully she +would be here--Cicely, the sempster's daughter. +The next gloves that I give her shall be dogskin; +nay, an she fail me once--you can tell, Arcas, she +swore by wine and bread she would not break. + +SCHOOLMASTER An eel and woman, a learned poet +says, unless by th' tail and with thy teeth thou hold, +will either fail. In manners, this was false +position. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN A fire ill take her! Does she flinch +now? + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN What shall we determine, sir? + +SCHOOLMASTER Nothing. Our business is become a +nullity, yea, and a woeful and a piteous nullity. + +FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Now, when the credit of our town +lay on it, now to be frampold, now to piss o' th' +nettle! Go thy ways; I'll remember thee. I'll fit +thee! + +[Enter Jailer's Daughter.] + + +DAUGHTER, [sings] + The George Alow came from the south, + From the coast of Barbary-a, + And there he met with brave gallants of war, + By one, by two, by three-a. + "Well hailed, well hailed, you jolly gallants, + And whither now are you bound-a? + O, let me have your company + Till I come to the sound-a." +There was three fools, fell out about an owlet-- +[Sings] The one he said it was an owl, + The other he said nay, + The third he said it was a hawk, + And her bells were cut away. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN There's a dainty madwoman, master, +comes i' th' nick, as mad as a March hare. If we +can get her dance, we are made again. I warrant +her, she'll do the rarest gambols. + +FIRST COUNTRYMAN A madwoman? We are made, boys. + +SCHOOLMASTER, [to Jailer's Daughter] And are you mad, +good woman? + +DAUGHTER I would be sorry else. Give me your hand. + +SCHOOLMASTER Why? + +DAUGHTER I can tell your fortune. [She looks at his +hand.] You are a fool. Tell ten.--I have posed him. +Buzz!--Friend, you must eat no white bread; if +you do, your teeth will bleed extremely. Shall we +dance, ho? I know you, you're a tinker. Sirrah tinker, +stop no more holes but what you should. + +SCHOOLMASTER Dii boni! A tinker, damsel? + +DAUGHTER Or a conjurer. Raise me a devil now, and let +him play Chi passa o' th' bells and bones. + +SCHOOLMASTER Go, take her, and fluently persuade her +to a peace. Et opus exegi, quod nec Iovis ira, nec +ignis. Strike up, and lead her in. + +SECOND COUNTRYMAN Come, lass, let's trip it. + +DAUGHTER I'll lead. + +THIRD COUNTRYMAN Do, do! + +SCHOOLMASTER Persuasively, and cunningly. +[Wind horns.] +Away, boys! I hear the horns. Give me some +meditation, and mark your cue. +[All but Schoolmaster exit.] +Pallas, inspire me! + +[Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, and train.] + + +THESEUS This way the stag took. + +SCHOOLMASTER Stay, and edify! + +THESEUS What have we here? + +PIRITHOUS Some country sport, upon my life, sir. + +THESEUS, [to Schoolmaster] Well, sir, go forward. We +will "edify." [Chairs and stools brought out.] +Ladies, sit down. We'll stay it. +[Theseus, Hippolyta, and Emilia sit.] + +SCHOOLMASTER +Thou doughty duke, all hail!--All hail, sweet ladies! + +THESEUS, [aside] This is a cold beginning. + +SCHOOLMASTER +If you but favor, our country pastime made is. +We are a few of those collected here +That ruder tongues distinguish "villager." +And to say verity, and not to fable, +We are a merry rout, or else a rabble, +Or company, or by a figure, chorus, +That 'fore thy dignity will dance a morris. +And I that am the rectifier of all, +By title pedagogus, that let fall +The birch upon the breeches of the small ones, +And humble with a ferula the tall ones, +Do here present this machine, or this frame. +And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame +From Dis to Daedalus, from post to pillar, +Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well-willer, +And with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight +Upon this mighty "Morr," of mickle weight-- +"Is" now comes in, which being glued together +Makes "Morris," and the cause that we came hither. +The body of our sport, of no small study, +I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy, +To speak before thy noble grace this tenner, +At whose great feet I offer up my penner. +The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright, +The Chambermaid and Servingman by night +That seek out silent hanging; then mine Host +And his fat Spouse, that welcomes to their cost +The galled traveler, and with a beck'ning +Informs the tapster to inflame the reck'ning; +Then the beest-eating Clown; and next the Fool, +The Bavian with long tail and eke long tool, +Cum multis aliis that make a dance; +Say "ay," and all shall presently advance. + +THESEUS +Ay, ay, by any means, dear Domine. + +PIRITHOUS Produce! + +SCHOOLMASTER +Intrate, filii. Come forth and foot it. + +[Music. Enter the Countrymen, Countrywomen, and +Jailer's Daughter; they perform a morris dance.] + + +SCHOOLMASTER + Ladies, if we have been merry + And have pleased ye with a derry, + And a derry and a down, + Say the Schoolmaster's no clown.-- + Duke, if we have pleased thee too + And have done as good boys should do, + Give us but a tree or twain + For a Maypole, and again, + Ere another year run out, + We'll make thee laugh, and all this rout. + +THESEUS +Take twenty, Domine.--How does my sweetheart? + +HIPPOLYTA +Never so pleased, sir. + +EMILIA 'Twas an excellent dance, +And, for a preface, I never heard a better. + +THESEUS +Schoolmaster, I thank you.--One see 'em all +rewarded. [An Attendant gives money.] + +PIRITHOUS +And here's something to paint your pole withal. +[He gives money.] + +THESEUS Now to our sports again. + +SCHOOLMASTER + May the stag thou hunt'st stand long, + And thy dogs be swift and strong; + May they kill him without lets, + And the ladies eat his dowsets. +[Wind horns within. Theseus, Hippolyta, +Emilia, Pirithous, and Train exit.] +Come, we are all made. Dii deaeque omnes, +You have danced rarely, wenches. +[They exit.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Palamon from the bush.] + + +PALAMON +About this hour my cousin gave his faith +To visit me again, and with him bring +Two swords and two good armors. If he fail, +He's neither man nor soldier. When he left me, +I did not think a week could have restored +My lost strength to me, I was grown so low +And crestfall'n with my wants. I thank thee, Arcite, +Thou art yet a fair foe, and I feel myself, +With this refreshing, able once again +To outdure danger. To delay it longer +Would make the world think, when it comes to +hearing, +That I lay fatting like a swine to fight +And not a soldier. Therefore, this blest morning +Shall be the last; and that sword he refuses, +If it but hold, I kill him with. 'Tis justice. +So, love and fortune for me! + +[Enter Arcite with armors and swords.] + +O, good morrow. + +ARCITE +Good morrow, noble kinsman. + +PALAMON I have put you +To too much pains, sir. + +ARCITE That too much, fair cousin, +Is but a debt to honor and my duty. + +PALAMON +Would you were so in all, sir; I could wish you +As kind a kinsman as you force me find +A beneficial foe, that my embraces +Might thank you, not my blows. + +ARCITE I shall think either, +Well done, a noble recompense. + +PALAMON Then I shall quit you. + +ARCITE +Defy me in these fair terms, and you show +More than a mistress to me. No more anger, +As you love anything that's honorable! +We were not bred to talk, man; when we are armed +And both upon our guards, then let our fury, +Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us, +And then to whom the birthright of this beauty +Truly pertains--without upbraidings, scorns, +Despisings of our persons, and such poutings, +Fitter for girls and schoolboys--will be seen, +And quickly, yours or mine. Will 't please you arm, +sir? +Or if you feel yourself not fitting yet +And furnished with your old strength, I'll stay, +cousin, +And ev'ry day discourse you into health, +As I am spared. Your person I am friends with, +And I could wish I had not said I loved her, +Though I had died. But loving such a lady, +And justifying my love, I must not fly from 't. + +PALAMON +Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy +That no man but thy cousin's fit to kill thee. +I am well and lusty. Choose your arms. + +ARCITE Choose you, sir. + +PALAMON +Wilt thou exceed in all, or dost thou do it +To make me spare thee? + +ARCITE If you think so, cousin, +You are deceived, for as I am a soldier, +I will not spare you. + +PALAMON That's well said. + +ARCITE You'll find it. + +PALAMON +Then, as I am an honest man and love +With all the justice of affection, +I'll pay thee soundly. [He chooses armor.] +This I'll take. + +ARCITE [taking the other] That's mine, then. +I'll arm you first. + +PALAMON Do. [Arcite begins arming him.] +Pray thee tell me, cousin, +Where got'st thou this good armor? + +ARCITE 'Tis the Duke's, +And to say true, I stole it. Do I pinch you? + +PALAMON No. + +ARCITE +Is 't not too heavy? + +PALAMON I have worn a lighter, +But I shall make it serve. + +ARCITE I'll buckle 't close. + +PALAMON +By any means. + +ARCITE You care not for a grand guard? + +PALAMON +No, no, we'll use no horses. I perceive +You would fain be at that fight. + +ARCITE I am indifferent. + +PALAMON +Faith, so am I. Good cousin, thrust the buckle +Through far enough. + +ARCITE I warrant you. + +PALAMON My casque now. + +ARCITE +Will you fight bare-armed? + +PALAMON We shall be the nimbler. + +ARCITE +But use your gauntlets though. Those are o' th' least. +Prithee take mine, good cousin. + +PALAMON Thank you, Arcite. +How do I look? Am I fall'n much away? + +ARCITE +Faith, very little; love has used you kindly. + +PALAMON +I'll warrant thee, I'll strike home. + +ARCITE Do, and spare not. +I'll give you cause, sweet cousin. + +PALAMON Now to you, sir. +[He begins to arm Arcite.] +Methinks this armor's very like that, Arcite, +Thou wor'st that day the three kings fell, but lighter. + +ARCITE +That was a very good one, and that day, +I well remember, you outdid me, cousin. +I never saw such valor. When you charged +Upon the left wing of the enemy, +I spurred hard to come up, and under me +I had a right good horse. + +PALAMON You had, indeed; +A bright bay, I remember. + +ARCITE Yes, but all +Was vainly labored in me; you outwent me, +Nor could my wishes reach you; yet a little +I did by imitation. + +PALAMON More by virtue; +You are modest, cousin. + +ARCITE When I saw you charge first, +Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder +Break from the troop. + +PALAMON But still before that flew +The lightning of your valor. Stay a little; +Is not this piece too strait? + +ARCITE No, no, 'tis well. + +PALAMON +I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword. +A bruise would be dishonor. + +ARCITE Now I am perfect. + +PALAMON +Stand off, then. + +ARCITE Take my sword; I hold it better. + +PALAMON +I thank you, no; keep it; your life lies on it. +Here's one; if it but hold, I ask no more +For all my hopes. My cause and honor guard me! + +ARCITE +And me my love! +[They bow several ways, then advance and stand.] +Is there aught else to say? + +PALAMON +This only, and no more: thou art mine aunt's son. +And that blood we desire to shed is mutual-- +In me thine, and in thee mine. My sword +Is in my hand, and if thou kill'st me, +The gods and I forgive thee. If there be +A place prepared for those that sleep in honor, +I wish his weary soul that falls may win it. +Fight bravely, cousin. Give me thy noble hand. + +ARCITE, [as they shake hands] +Here, Palamon. This hand shall never more +Come near thee with such friendship. + +PALAMON I commend thee. + +ARCITE +If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward, +For none but such dare die in these just trials. +Once more farewell, my cousin. + +PALAMON Farewell, Arcite. +[Fight.] +[Horns within. They stand.] + +ARCITE +Lo, cousin, lo, our folly has undone us! + +PALAMON Why? + +ARCITE +This is the Duke, a-hunting, as I told you. +If we be found, we are wretched. O, retire, +For honor's sake, and safely, presently +Into your bush again. Sir, we shall find +Too many hours to die in. Gentle cousin, +If you be seen, you perish instantly +For breaking prison, and I, if you reveal me, +For my contempt. Then all the world will scorn us, +And say we had a noble difference, +But base disposers of it. + +PALAMON No, no, cousin, +I will no more be hidden, nor put off +This great adventure to a second trial. +I know your cunning, and I know your cause. +He that faints now, shame take him! Put thyself +Upon thy present guard-- + +ARCITE You are not mad? + +PALAMON +Or I will make th' advantage of this hour +Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me +I fear less than my fortune. Know, weak cousin, +I love Emilia, and in that I'll bury +Thee and all crosses else. + +ARCITE Then come what can come, +Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well +Die as discourse or sleep. Only this fears me: +The law will have the honor of our ends. +Have at thy life! + +PALAMON Look to thine own well, Arcite. +[Fight again.] + +[Horns. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, +Pirithous and train.] + + +THESEUS +What ignorant and mad malicious traitors +Are you, that 'gainst the tenor of my laws +Are making battle, thus like knights appointed, +Without my leave and officers of arms? +By Castor, both shall die. + +PALAMON Hold thy word, Theseus. +We are certainly both traitors, both despisers +Of thee and of thy goodness. I am Palamon, +That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison. +Think well what that deserves. And this is Arcite. +A bolder traitor never trod thy ground, +A falser ne'er seemed friend. This is the man +Was begged and banished; this is he contemns thee +And what thou dar'st do; and in this disguise, +Against thine own edict, follows thy sister, +That fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia, +Whose servant--if there be a right in seeing +And first bequeathing of the soul to--justly +I am; and, which is more, dares think her his. +This treachery, like a most trusty lover, +I called him now to answer. If thou be'st +As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, +The true decider of all injuries, +Say "Fight again," and thou shalt see me, Theseus, +Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy. +Then take my life; I'll woo thee to 't. + +PIRITHOUS O heaven, +What more than man is this! + +THESEUS I have sworn. + +ARCITE We seek not +Thy breath of mercy, Theseus. 'Tis to me +A thing as soon to die as thee to say it, +And no more moved. Where this man calls me +traitor, +Let me say thus much: if in love be treason, +In service of so excellent a beauty, +As I love most, and in that faith will perish, +As I have brought my life here to confirm it, +As I have served her truest, worthiest, +As I dare kill this cousin that denies it, +So let me be most traitor, and you please me. +For scorning thy edict, duke, ask that lady +Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me +Stay here to love her; and if she say "traitor," +I am a villain fit to lie unburied. + +PALAMON +Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus, +If unto neither thou show mercy. Stop, +As thou art just, thy noble ear against us; +As thou art valiant, for thy cousin's soul, +Whose twelve strong labors crown his memory, +Let's die together at one instant, duke; +Only a little let him fall before me, +That I may tell my soul he shall not have her. + +THESEUS +I grant your wish, for to say true, your cousin +Has ten times more offended, for I gave him +More mercy than you found, sir, your offenses +Being no more than his.--None here speak for 'em, +For ere the sun set both shall sleep forever. + +HIPPOLYTA +Alas, the pity! Now or never, sister, +Speak not to be denied. That face of yours +Will bear the curses else of after ages +For these lost cousins. + +EMILIA In my face, dear sister, +I find no anger to 'em, nor no ruin. +The misadventure of their own eyes kill 'em. +Yet that I will be woman and have pity, +My knees shall grow to th' ground but I'll get mercy. +[She kneels.] +Help me, dear sister; in a deed so virtuous, +The powers of all women will be with us. +[Hippolyta kneels.] +Most royal brother-- + +HIPPOLYTA Sir, by our tie of marriage-- + +EMILIA +By your own spotless honor-- + +HIPPOLYTA By that faith, +That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me-- + +EMILIA +By that you would have pity in another; +By your own virtues infinite-- + +HIPPOLYTA By valor; +By all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you-- + +THESEUS +These are strange conjurings. + +PIRITHOUS Nay, then, I'll in too. +[He kneels.] +By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers; +By all you love most, wars and this sweet lady-- + +EMILIA +By that you would have trembled to deny +A blushing maid-- + +HIPPOLYTA By your own eyes; by strength, +In which you swore I went beyond all women, +Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus-- + +PIRITHOUS +To crown all this: by your most noble soul, +Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first-- + +HIPPOLYTA +Next hear my prayers-- + +EMILIA Last let me entreat, sir-- + +PIRITHOUS +For mercy. + +HIPPOLYTA Mercy. + +EMILIA Mercy on these princes. + +THESEUS +You make my faith reel. [(To Emilia.)] Say I felt +Compassion to 'em both, how would you place it? +[They rise from their knees.] + +EMILIA +Upon their lives, but with their banishments. + +THESEUS +You are a right woman, sister: you have pity, +But want the understanding where to use it. +If you desire their lives, invent a way +Safer than banishment. Can these two live, +And have the agony of love about 'em, +And not kill one another? Every day +They'd fight about you, hourly bring your honor +In public question with their swords. Be wise, then, +And here forget 'em; it concerns your credit +And my oath equally. I have said they die. +Better they fall by th' law than one another. +Bow not my honor. + +EMILIA O, my noble brother, +That oath was rashly made, and in your anger; +Your reason will not hold it. If such vows +Stand for express will, all the world must perish. +Besides, I have another oath 'gainst yours, +Of more authority, I am sure more love, +Not made in passion neither, but good heed. + +THESEUS +What is it, sister? + +PIRITHOUS Urge it home, brave lady. + +EMILIA +That you would ne'er deny me anything +Fit for my modest suit and your free granting. +I tie you to your word now; if you fail in 't, +Think how you maim your honor-- +For now I am set a-begging, sir, I am deaf +To all but your compassion--how their lives +Might breed the ruin of my name. Opinion! +Shall anything that loves me perish for me? +That were a cruel wisdom. Do men prune +The straight young boughs that blush with thousand +blossoms +Because they may be rotten? O, Duke Theseus, +The goodly mothers that have groaned for these, +And all the longing maids that ever loved, +If your vow stand, shall curse me and my beauty, +And in their funeral songs for these two cousins +Despise my cruelty, and cry woe worth me, +Till I am nothing but the scorn of women. +For heaven's sake, save their lives, and banish 'em. + +THESEUS +On what conditions? + +EMILIA Swear 'em never more +To make me their contention, or to know me, +To tread upon thy dukedom, and to be, +Wherever they shall travel, ever strangers +To one another. + +PALAMON I'll be cut a-pieces +Before I take this oath! Forget I love her? +O, all you gods, despise me then! Thy banishment +I not mislike, so we may fairly carry +Our swords and cause along; else never trifle, +But take our lives, duke. I must love, and will, +And for that love must and dare kill this cousin +On any piece the Earth has. + +THESEUS Will you, Arcite, +Take these conditions? + +PALAMON He's a villain, then. + +PIRITHOUS These are men! + +ARCITE +No, never, duke. 'Tis worse to me than begging +To take my life so basely; though I think +I never shall enjoy her, yet I'll preserve +The honor of affection, and die for her, +Make death a devil! + +THESEUS +What may be done? For now I feel compassion. + +PIRITHOUS +Let it not fall again, sir. + +THESEUS Say, Emilia, +If one of them were dead, as one must, are you +Content to take th' other to your husband? +They cannot both enjoy you. They are princes +As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble +As ever fame yet spoke of. Look upon 'em, +And, if you can love, end this difference. +I give consent.--Are you content too, princes? + +BOTH +With all our souls. + +THESEUS He that she refuses +Must die then. + +BOTH Any death thou canst invent, duke. + +PALAMON +If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favor, +And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes. + +ARCITE +If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me, +And soldiers sing my epitaph. + +THESEUS, [to Emilia] Make choice, then. + +EMILIA +I cannot, sir; they are both too excellent. +For me, a hair shall never fall of these men. + +HIPPOLYTA +What will become of 'em? + +THESEUS Thus I ordain it-- +And, by mine honor, once again, it stands, +Or both shall die: you shall both to your country, +And each within this month, accompanied +With three fair knights, appear again in this place, +In which I'll plant a pyramid; and whether, +Before us that are here, can force his cousin +By fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar, +He shall enjoy her; the other lose his head, +And all his friends; nor shall he grudge to fall, +Nor think he dies with interest in this lady. +Will this content you? + +PALAMON Yes.--Here, Cousin Arcite, +I am friends again till that hour. [He offers his hand.] + +ARCITE I embrace you. +[They shake hands.] + +THESEUS +Are you content, sister? + +EMILIA Yes, I must, sir, +Else both miscarry. + +THESEUS, [to Palamon and Arcite] +Come, shake hands again, then, +And take heed, as you are gentlemen, this quarrel +Sleep till the hour prefixed, and hold your course. + +PALAMON +We dare not fail thee, Theseus. +[They shake hands again.] + +THESEUS Come, I'll give you +Now usage like to princes and to friends. +When you return, who wins I'll settle here; +Who loses, yet I'll weep upon his bier. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Jailer and his Friend.] + + +JAILER +Heard you no more? Was nothing said of me +Concerning the escape of Palamon? +Good sir, remember! + +FIRST FRIEND Nothing that I heard, +For I came home before the business +Was fully ended. Yet I might perceive, +Ere I departed, a great likelihood +Of both their pardons; for Hippolyta +And fair-eyed Emily, upon their knees, +Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke, +Methought, stood staggering whether he should +follow +His rash oath or the sweet compassion +Of those two ladies. And, to second them, +That truly noble prince, Pirithous-- +Half his own heart--set in too, that I hope +All shall be well. Neither heard I one question +Of your name or his 'scape. + +JAILER Pray heaven it hold so. + +[Enter Second Friend.] + + +SECOND FRIEND +Be of good comfort, man; I bring you news, +Good news. + +JAILER They are welcome. + +SECOND FRIEND Palamon has cleared +you +And got your pardon, and discovered how +And by whose means he escaped, which was your +daughter's, +Whose pardon is procured too; and the prisoner, +Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness, +Has given a sum of money to her marriage-- +A large one, I'll assure you. + +JAILER You are a good man +And ever bring good news. + +FIRST FRIEND How was it ended? + +SECOND FRIEND +Why, as it should be: they that ne'er begged +But they prevailed had their suits fairly granted; +The prisoners have their lives. + +FIRST FRIEND I knew 'twould be so. + +SECOND FRIEND +But there be new conditions, which you'll hear of +At better time. + +JAILER I hope they are good. + +SECOND FRIEND They are +honorable; +How good they'll prove I know not. + +FIRST FRIEND 'Twill be known. + +[Enter Wooer.] + + +WOOER +Alas, sir, where's your daughter? + +JAILER Why do you ask? + +WOOER +O, sir, when did you see her? + +SECOND FRIEND, [aside] How he looks! + +JAILER +This morning. + +WOOER Was she well? Was she in health? +Sir, when did she sleep? + +FIRST FRIEND, [aside] These are strange questions. + +JAILER +I do not think she was very well--for now +You make me mind her; but this very day +I asked her questions, and she answered me +So far from what she was, so childishly, +So sillily, as if she were a fool, +An innocent, and I was very angry. +But what of her, sir? + +WOOER Nothing but my pity; +But you must know it, and as good by me +As by another that less loves her. + +JAILER Well, sir? + +WOOER +No, sir, not well. + +FIRST FRIEND Not right? + +SECOND FRIEND Not well? + +WOOER +'Tis too true; she is mad. + +FIRST FRIEND It cannot be. + +WOOER +Believe you'll find it so. + +JAILER I half suspected +What you told me. The gods comfort her! +Either this was her love to Palamon, +Or fear of my miscarrying on his 'scape, +Or both. + +WOOER 'Tis likely. + +JAILER But why all this haste, sir? + +WOOER +I'll tell you quickly. As I late was angling +In the great lake that lies behind the palace, +From the far shore--thick set with reeds and +sedges-- +As patiently I was attending sport, +I heard a voice, a shrill one; and, attentive, +I gave my ear, when I might well perceive +'Twas one that sung, and by the smallness of it +A boy or woman. I then left my angle +To his own skill, came near, but yet perceived not +Who made the sound, the rushes and the reeds +Had so encompassed it. I laid me down +And listened to the words she sung, for then, +Through a small glade cut by the fishermen, +I saw it was your daughter. + +JAILER Pray go on, sir. + +WOOER +She sung much, but no sense; only I heard her +Repeat this often: "Palamon is gone, +Is gone to th' wood to gather mulberries; +I'll find him out tomorrow." + +FIRST FRIEND Pretty soul! + +WOOER +"His shackles will betray him; he'll be taken, +And what shall I do then? I'll bring a bevy, +A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do, +With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies, +With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses, +And all we'll dance an antic 'fore the Duke, +And beg his pardon." Then she talked of you, sir-- +That you must lose your head tomorrow morning, +And she must gather flowers to bury you, +And see the house made handsome. Then she sung +Nothing but "Willow, willow, willow," and between +Ever was "Palamon, fair Palamon," +And "Palamon was a tall young man." The place +Was knee-deep where she sat; her careless tresses, +A wreath of bulrush rounded; about her stuck +Thousand freshwater flowers of several colors, +That methought she appeared like the fair nymph +That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris +Newly dropped down from heaven. Rings she made +Of rushes that grew by, and to 'em spoke +The prettiest posies: "Thus our true love's tied," +"This you may lose, not me," and many a one; +And then she wept, and sung again, and sighed, +And with the same breath smiled and kissed her +hand. + +SECOND FRIEND +Alas, what pity it is! + +WOOER I made in to her. +She saw me, and straight sought the flood. I saved +her +And set her safe to land, when presently +She slipped away, and to the city made +With such a cry and swiftness that, believe me, +She left me far behind her. Three or four +I saw from far off cross her--one of 'em +I knew to be your brother--where she stayed +And fell, scarce to be got away. I left them with her +And hither came to tell you. + +[Enter Jailer's Brother, Jailer's Daughter, and others.] + +Here they are. + +DAUGHTER, [sings] + May you never more enjoy the light, etc. +Is not this a fine song? + +BROTHER O, a very fine one. + +DAUGHTER I can sing twenty more. + +BROTHER I think you can. + +DAUGHTER Yes, truly can I. I can sing "The Broom" +and "Bonny Robin." Are not you a tailor? + +BROTHER Yes. + +DAUGHTER Where's my wedding gown? + +BROTHER I'll bring it tomorrow. + +DAUGHTER Do, very rarely, I must be abroad else to +call the maids and pay the minstrels, for I must +lose my maidenhead by cocklight. 'Twill never +thrive else. +[Sings.]O fair, O sweet, etc. + +BROTHER, [to Jailer] You must e'en take it patiently. + +JAILER 'Tis true. + +DAUGHTER Good e'en, good men. Pray, did you ever +hear of one young Palamon? + +JAILER Yes, wench, we know him. + +DAUGHTER Is 't not a fine young gentleman? + +JAILER 'Tis, love. + +BROTHER, [aside to others] By no mean cross her; she +is then distempered far worse than now she +shows. + +FIRST FRIEND, [to Daughter] Yes, he's a fine man. + +DAUGHTER O , is he so? You have a sister. + +FIRST FRIEND Yes. + +DAUGHTER But she shall never have him--tell her so-- +for a trick that I know; you'd best look to her, for +if she see him once, she's gone, she's done and +undone in an hour. All the young maids of our +town are in love with him, but I laugh at 'em and +let 'em all alone. Is 't not a wise course? + +FIRST FRIEND Yes. + +DAUGHTER There is at least two hundred now with +child by him--there must be four; yet I keep close +for all this, close as a cockle; and all these must be +boys--he has the trick on 't--and at ten years old +they must be all gelt for musicians and sing the +wars of Theseus. + +SECOND FRIEND This is strange. + +DAUGHTER As ever you heard, but say nothing. + +FIRST FRIEND No. + +DAUGHTER They come from all parts of the dukedom +to him; I'll warrant you, he had not so few last +night as twenty to dispatch. He'll tickle 't up in two +hours, if his hand be in. + +JAILER, [aside] She's lost past all cure. + +BROTHER Heaven forbid, man! + +DAUGHTER, [to Jailer] Come hither; you are a wise +man. + +FIRST FRIEND, [aside] Does she know him? + +SECOND FRIEND No; would she did. + +DAUGHTER You are master of a ship? + +JAILER Yes. + +DAUGHTER Where's your compass? + +JAILER Here. + +DAUGHTER Set it to th' north. And now direct your +course to th' wood, where Palamon lies longing for +me. For the tackling, let me alone.--Come, weigh, +my hearts, cheerly. + +ALL, [as if sailing a ship] Owgh, owgh, owgh!--'Tis up! +The wind's fair!--Top the bowline!--Out with the +main sail! Where's your whistle, master? + +BROTHER Let's get her in! + +JAILER Up to the top, boy! + +BROTHER Where's the pilot? + +FIRST FRIEND Here. + +DAUGHTER What kenn'st thou? + +SECOND FRIEND A fair wood. + +DAUGHTER Bear for it, master. Tack about! +[Sings.] + When Cynthia with her borrowed light, etc. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Emilia alone, with two pictures.] + + +EMILIA +Yet I may bind those wounds up that must open +And bleed to death for my sake else. I'll choose, +And end their strife. Two such young handsome men +Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers, +Following the dead cold ashes of their sons, +Shall never curse my cruelty. +[Looks at one of the pictures.] +Good heaven, +What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise Nature, +With all her best endowments, all those beauties +She sows into the births of noble bodies, +Were here a mortal woman, and had in her +The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless +She would run mad for this man. What an eye, +Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness, +Has this young prince! Here Love himself sits +smiling; +Just such another wanton Ganymede +Set Jove afire with, and enforced the god +Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him, +A shining constellation. What a brow, +Of what a spacious majesty, he carries, +Arched like the great-eyed Juno's but far sweeter, +Smoother than Pelops' shoulder! Fame and Honor, +Methinks, from hence as from a promontory +Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings and sing +To all the under world the loves and fights +Of gods and such men near 'em. +[Looks at the other picture.] +Palamon +Is but his foil, to him a mere dull shadow; +He's swart and meager, of an eye as heavy +As if he had lost his mother; a still temper, +No stirring in him, no alacrity; +Of all this sprightly sharpness not a smile. +Yet these that we count errors may become him; +Narcissus was a sad boy but a heavenly. +O, who can find the bent of woman's fancy? +I am a fool; my reason is lost in me; +I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly +That women ought to beat me. On my knees +I ask thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone +And only beautiful, and these the eyes, +These the bright lamps of beauty, that command +And threaten love, and what young maid dare cross +'em? +What a bold gravity, and yet inviting, +Has this brown manly face! O Love, this only +From this hour is complexion. Lie there, Arcite. +[She puts aside his picture.] +Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy, +And this the noble body. I am sotted, +Utterly lost. My virgin's faith has fled me. +For if my brother but even now had asked me +Whether I loved, I had run mad for Arcite. +Now, if my sister, more for Palamon. +Stand both together. Now, come ask me, brother. +Alas, I know not! Ask me now, sweet sister. +I may go look! What a mere child is Fancy, +That, having two fair gauds of equal sweetness, +Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both. + +[Enter a Gentleman.] + +How now, sir? + +GENTLEMAN From the noble duke, your brother, +Madam, I bring you news: the knights are come. + +EMILIA +To end the quarrel? + +GENTLEMAN Yes. + +EMILIA Would I might end first! +What sins have I committed, chaste Diana, +That my unspotted youth must now be soiled +With blood of princes, and my chastity +Be made the altar where the lives of lovers-- +Two greater and two better never yet +Made mothers joy--must be the sacrifice +To my unhappy beauty? + +[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous and Attendants.] + + +THESEUS, [to Attendant] Bring 'em in +Quickly, by any means; I long to see 'em. +[To Emilia.] Your two contending lovers are +returned, +And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair +sister, +You must love one of them. + +EMILIA I had rather both, +So neither for my sake should fall untimely. + +THESEUS +Who saw 'em? + +PIRITHOUS I awhile. + +GENTLEMAN And I. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +THESEUS +From whence come you, sir? + +MESSENGER From the knights. + +THESEUS Pray +speak, +You that have seen them, what they are. + +MESSENGER I will, sir, +And truly what I think. Six braver spirits +Than these they have brought, if we judge by the +outside, +I never saw nor read of. He that stands +In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming, +Should be a stout man, by his face a prince-- +His very looks so say him; his complexion +Nearer a brown than black--stern and yet noble-- +Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers; +The circles of his eyes show fire within him, +And as a heated lion, so he looks. +His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining +Like ravens' wings; his shoulders broad and strong, +Armed long and round; and on his thigh a sword +Hung by a curious baldric, when he frowns +To seal his will with. Better, o' my conscience, +Was never soldier's friend. + +THESEUS +Thou hast well described him. + +PIRITHOUS Yet a great +deal short, +Methinks, of him that's first with Palamon. + +THESEUS +Pray speak him, friend. + +PIRITHOUS I guess he is a prince too, +And, if it may be, greater; for his show +Has all the ornament of honor in 't: +He's somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of, +But of a face far sweeter; his complexion +Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. He has felt +Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter +To make this cause his own. In 's face appears +All the fair hopes of what he undertakes, +And when he's angry, then a settled valor, +Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body +And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot; +He shows no such soft temper. His head's yellow, +Hard-haired and curled, thick-twined like ivy tods, +Not to undo with thunder. In his face +The livery of the warlike maid appears, +Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him. +And in his rolling eyes sits Victory, +As if she ever meant to crown his valor. +His nose stands high, a character of honor; +His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies. + +EMILIA +Must these men die too? + +PIRITHOUS When he speaks, his tongue +Sounds like a trumpet. All his lineaments +Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean. +He wears a well-steeled axe, the staff of gold; +His age some five-and-twenty. + +MESSENGER There's another-- +A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming +As great as any; fairer promises +In such a body yet I never looked on. + +PIRITHOUS +O, he that's freckle-faced? + +MESSENGER The same, my lord. +Are they not sweet ones? + +PIRITHOUS Yes, they are well. + +MESSENGER Methinks, +Being so few, and well disposed, they show +Great and fine art in nature. He's white-haired-- +Not wanton white, but such a manly color +Next to an auburn; tough and nimble-set, +Which shows an active soul. His arms are brawny, +Lined with strong sinews--to the shoulder-piece +Gently they swell, like women new-conceived, +Which speaks him prone to labor, never fainting +Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted still, +But when he stirs, a tiger. He's grey-eyed, +Which yields compassion where he conquers; sharp +To spy advantages, and where he finds 'em, +He's swift to make 'em his. He does no wrongs, +Nor takes none. He's round-faced, and when he +smiles +He shows a lover; when he frowns, a soldier. +About his head he wears the winner's oak, +And in it stuck the favor of his lady. +His age some six-and-thirty. In his hand +He bears a charging-staff embossed with silver. + +THESEUS +Are they all thus? + +PIRITHOUS They are all the sons of honor. + +THESEUS +Now, as I have a soul, I long to see 'em.-- +Lady, you shall see men fight now. + +HIPPOLYTA I wish it, +But not the cause, my lord. They would show +Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms; +'Tis pity love should be so tyrannous.-- +O, my soft-hearted sister, what think you? +Weep not till they weep blood. Wench, it must be. + +THESEUS, [to Emilia] +You have steeled 'em with your beauty. [(To +Pirithous.)] Honored friend, +To you I give the field; pray order it +Fitting the persons that must use it. + +PIRITHOUS Yes, sir. + +THESEUS +Come, I'll go visit 'em. I cannot stay-- +Their fame has fired me so--till they appear. +Good friend, be royal. + +PIRITHOUS There shall want no bravery. +[All but Emilia exit.] + +EMILIA +Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins +Loses a noble cousin for thy sins. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Jailer, Wooer, Doctor.] + + +DOCTOR Her distraction is more at some time of the +moon than at other some, is it not? + +JAILER She is continually in a harmless distemper, +sleeps little, altogether without appetite, save often +drinking, dreaming of another world, and a better; +and what broken piece of matter soe'er she's about, +the name Palamon lards it, that she farces ev'ry +business withal, fits it to every question. + +[Enter Jailer's Daughter.] + +Look where she comes; you shall perceive her +behavior. [They stand aside.] + +DAUGHTER I have forgot it quite. The burden on 't was +"down-a down-a," and penned by no worse man +than Geraldo, Emilia's schoolmaster. He's as fantastical, +too, as ever he may go upon 's legs, for in +the next world will Dido see Palamon, and then +will she be out of love with Aeneas. + +DOCTOR, [aside to Jailer and Wooer] What stuff's here? +Poor soul. + +JAILER E'en thus all day long. + +DAUGHTER Now for this charm that I told you of, you +must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your +tongue, or no ferry; then if it be your chance to +come where the blessed spirits are, there's a +sight now! We maids that have our livers perished, +cracked to pieces with love, we shall come there, +and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with +Proserpine. Then will I make Palamon a nosegay; +then let him mark me then. + +DOCTOR How prettily she's amiss! Note her a little +further. + +DAUGHTER Faith, I'll tell you, sometime we go to +barley-break, we of the blessed. Alas, 'tis a sore life +they have i' th' other place--such burning, frying, +boiling, hissing, howling, chatt'ring, cursing--O, +they have shrewd measure, take heed! If one be +mad, or hang or drown themselves, thither they +go, Jupiter bless us, and there shall we be put in +a cauldron of lead and usurers' grease, amongst a +whole million of cutpurses, and there boil like a +gammon of bacon that will never be enough. + +DOCTOR How her brains coins! + +DAUGHTER Lords and courtiers that have got maids +with child, they are in this place. They shall stand +in fire up to the navel and in ice up to th' heart, and +there th' offending part burns and the deceiving +part freezes: in troth, a very grievous punishment, +as one would think, for such a trifle. Believe me, +one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on 't, I'll +assure you. + +DOCTOR How she continues this fancy! 'Tis not an engraffed +madness, but a most thick and profound +melancholy. + +DAUGHTER To hear there a proud lady and a proud city +wife howl together--I were a beast an I'd call it +good sport. One cries "O this smoke!" th' other, +"This fire!"; one cries, "O, that ever I did it behind +the arras!" and then howls; th' other curses a suing +fellow and her garden house. +[Sings.] +I will be true, my stars, my fate, etc. +[Daughter exits.] + +JAILER What think you of her, sir? + +DOCTOR I think she has a perturbed mind, which I +cannot minister to. + +JAILER Alas, what then? + +DOCTOR Understand you she ever affected any man +ere she beheld Palamon? + +JAILER I was once, sir, in great hope she had fixed her +liking on this gentleman, my friend. + +WOOER I did think so, too, and would account I had a +great penn'orth on 't to give half my state that both +she and I, at this present, stood unfeignedly on the +same terms. + +DOCTOR That intemp'rate surfeit of her eye hath distempered +the other senses. They may return and +settle again to execute their preordained faculties, +but they are now in a most extravagant vagary. +This you must do: confine her to a place where +the light may rather seem to steal in than be +permitted.--Take upon you, young sir, her friend, +the name of Palamon; say you come to eat with +her, and to commune of love. This will catch her +attention, for this her mind beats upon; other +objects that are inserted 'tween her mind and eye +become the pranks and friskins of her madness. +Sing to her such green songs of love as she says +Palamon hath sung in prison. Come to her stuck +in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of, +and thereto make an addition of some other compounded +odors which are grateful to the sense. +All this shall become Palamon, for Palamon can +sing, and Palamon is sweet and ev'ry good thing. +Desire to eat with her, carve her, drink to her, and +still among intermingle your petition of grace and +acceptance into her favor. Learn what maids have +been her companions and playferes, and let them +repair to her with Palamon in their mouths, and +appear with tokens, as if they suggested for him.-- +It is a falsehood she is in, which is with falsehoods +to be combated. This may bring her to eat, +to sleep, and reduce what's now out of square in +her into their former law and regiment. I have seen +it approved, how many times I know not, but to +make the number more, I have great hope in this. +I will between the passages of this project come +in with my appliance. Let us put it in execution +and hasten the success, which doubt not will bring +forth comfort. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, +and Attendants. Three altars set up onstage.] + + +THESEUS +Now let 'em enter and before the gods +Tender their holy prayers. Let the temples +Burn bright with sacred fires, and the altars +In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense +To those above us. Let no due be wanting. +They have a noble work in hand will honor +The very powers that love 'em. + +PIRITHOUS Sir, they enter. + +[Flourish of cornets. Enter Palamon and Arcite +and their Knights.] + + +THESEUS +You valiant and strong-hearted enemies, +You royal german foes, that this day come +To blow that nearness out that flames between you, +Lay by your anger for an hour and, dove-like, +Before the holy altars of your helpers, +The all-feared gods, bow down your stubborn +bodies. +Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be. +And as the gods regard you, fight with justice. +I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt you +I part my wishes. + +PIRITHOUS Honor crown the worthiest! +[Theseus and his train exit.] + +PALAMON +The glass is running now that cannot finish +Till one of us expire. Think you but thus, +That were there aught in me which strove to show +Mine enemy in this business, were 't one eye +Against another, arm oppressed by arm, +I would destroy th' offender, coz--I would +Though parcel of myself. Then from this gather +How I should tender you. + +ARCITE I am in labor +To push your name, your ancient love, our kindred +Out of my memory, and i' th' selfsame place +To seat something I would confound. So hoist we +The sails that must these vessels port even where +The heavenly Limiter pleases. + +PALAMON You speak well. +Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin. +[They embrace.] +This I shall never do again. + +ARCITE One farewell. + +PALAMON +Why, let it be so. Farewell, coz. + +ARCITE Farewell, sir. +[Palamon and his Knights exit.] +Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yea, my sacrifices, +True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you +Expels the seeds of fear and th' apprehension +Which still is father of it, go with me +Before the god of our profession. There +Require of him the hearts of lions and +The breath of tigers, yea, the fierceness too, +Yea, the speed also--to go on, I mean; +Else wish we to be snails. You know my prize +Must be dragged out of blood; force and great feat +Must put my garland on, where she sticks, +The queen of flowers. Our intercession, then, +Must be to him that makes the camp a cistern +Brimmed with the blood of men. Give me your aid, +And bend your spirits towards him. +[They go to Mars's altar, fall on +their faces before it, and then kneel.] +Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turned +Green Neptune into purple, whose approach +Comets prewarn, whose havoc in vast field +Unearthed skulls proclaim, whose breath blows +down +The teeming Ceres' foison, who dost pluck +With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds +The masoned turrets, that both mak'st and break'st +The stony girths of cities; me thy pupil, +Youngest follower of thy drum, instruct this day +With military skill, that to thy laud +I may advance my streamer, and by thee +Be styled the lord o' th' day. Give me, great Mars, +Some token of thy pleasure. +[Here they fall on their faces as formerly, and +there is heard clanging of armor, with a short +thunder, as the burst of a battle, whereupon +they all rise and bow to the altar.] +O, great corrector of enormous times, +Shaker of o'er-rank states, thou grand decider +Of dusty and old titles, that heal'st with blood +The Earth when it is sick, and cur'st the world +O' th' pleurisy of people, I do take +Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name +To my design march boldly.--Let us go. [They exit.] + +[Enter Palamon and his Knights, +with the former observance.] + + +PALAMON +Our stars must glister with new fire, or be +Today extinct. Our argument is love, +Which, if the goddess of it grant, she gives +Victory too. Then blend your spirits with mine, +You whose free nobleness do make my cause +Your personal hazard. To the goddess Venus +Commend we our proceeding, and implore +Her power unto our party. +[Here they go to Venus's altar, fall on +their faces before it, and then kneel.] +Hail, sovereign queen of secrets, who hast power +To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage +And weep unto a girl; that hast the might +Even with an eye-glance to choke Mars's drum +And turn th' alarm to whispers; that canst make +A cripple flourish with his crutch, and cure him +Before Apollo; that mayst force the king +To be his subject's vassal, and induce +Stale gravity to dance. The polled bachelor, +Whose youth, like wanton boys through bonfires, +Have skipped thy flame, at seventy thou canst catch, +And make him, to the scorn of his hoarse throat, +Abuse young lays of love. What godlike power +Hast thou not power upon? To Phoebus thou +Add'st flames hotter than his; the heavenly fires +Did scorch his mortal son, thine him. The huntress, +All moist and cold, some say, began to throw +Her bow away and sigh. Take to thy grace +Me, thy vowed soldier, who do bear thy yoke +As 'twere a wreath of roses, yet is heavier +Than lead itself, stings more than nettles. +I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law, +Ne'er revealed secret, for I knew none--would not, +Had I kenned all that were. I never practiced +Upon man's wife, nor would the libels read +Of liberal wits. I never at great feasts +Sought to betray a beauty, but have blushed +At simp'ring sirs that did. I have been harsh +To large confessors, and have hotly asked them +If they had mothers--I had one, a woman, +And women 'twere they wronged. I knew a man +Of eighty winters--this I told them--who +A lass of fourteen brided; 'twas thy power +To put life into dust. The aged cramp +Had screwed his square foot round; +The gout had knit his fingers into knots; +Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes +Had almost drawn their spheres, that what was life +In him seemed torture. This anatomy +Had by his young fair fere a boy, and I +Believed it was his, for she swore it was, +And who would not believe her? Brief, I am +To those that prate and have done, no companion; +To those that boast and have not, a defier; +To those that would and cannot, a rejoicer. +Yea, him I do not love that tells close offices +The foulest way, nor names concealments in +The boldest language. Such a one I am, +And vow that lover never yet made sigh +Truer than I. O, then, most soft sweet goddess, +Give me the victory of this question, which +Is true love's merit, and bless me with a sign +Of thy great pleasure. +[Here music is heard; doves are +seen to flutter. They fall again upon +their faces, then on their knees.] +O thou that from eleven to ninety reign'st +In mortal bosoms, whose chase is this world +And we in herds thy game, I give thee thanks +For this fair token, which being laid unto +Mine innocent true heart, arms in assurance +My body to this business.--Let us rise +And bow before the goddess. [They rise and bow.] +Time comes on. +[They exit.] + +[Still music of recorders. Enter Emilia in white, her +hair about her shoulders, wearing a wheaten wreath; +one in white holding up her train, her hair stuck with +flowers; one before her carrying a silver hind, in which +is conveyed incense and sweet odors, which being +set upon the altar of Diana, her maids standing +aloof, she sets fire to it. Then they curtsy and kneel.] + + +EMILIA +O sacred, shadowy, cold, and constant queen, +Abandoner of revels, mute contemplative, +Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure +As wind-fanned snow, who to thy female knights +Allow'st no more blood than will make a blush, +Which is their order's robe, I here, thy priest, +Am humbled 'fore thine altar. O, vouchsafe +With that thy rare green eye, which never yet +Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin, +And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear-- +Which ne'er heard scurrile term, into whose port +Ne'er entered wanton sound--to my petition, +Seasoned with holy fear. This is my last +Of vestal office. I am bride-habited +But maiden-hearted. A husband I have 'pointed, +But do not know him. Out of two I should +Choose one, and pray for his success, but I +Am guiltless of election. Of mine eyes, +Were I to lose one--they are equal precious-- +I could doom neither; that which perished should +Go to 't unsentenced. Therefore, most modest queen, +He of the two pretenders that best loves me +And has the truest title in 't, let him +Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant +The file and quality I hold I may +Continue in thy band. +[Here the hind vanishes under the +altar, and in the place ascends a rose +tree, having one rose upon it.] +See what our general of ebbs and flows +Out from the bowels of her holy altar +With sacred act advances: but one rose. +If well inspired, this battle shall confound +Both these brave knights, and I, a virgin flower, +Must grow alone unplucked. +[Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments, +and the rose falls from the tree.] +The flower is fall'n, the tree descends. O mistress, +Thou here dischargest me. I shall be gathered; +I think so, but I know not thine own will. +Unclasp thy mystery!--I hope she's pleased; +Her signs were gracious. +[They curtsy and exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Doctor, Jailer, and Wooer in +the habit of Palamon.] + + +DOCTOR +Has this advice I told you done any good upon her? + +WOOER +O, very much. The maids that kept her company +Have half-persuaded her that I am Palamon; +Within this half-hour she came smiling to me, +And asked me what I would eat, and when I would +kiss her. +I told her "Presently," and kissed her twice. + +DOCTOR +'Twas well done; twenty times had been far better, +For there the cure lies mainly. + +WOOER Then she told me +She would watch with me tonight, for well she knew +What hour my fit would take me. + +DOCTOR Let her do so, +And when your fit comes, fit her home, +And presently. + +WOOER She would have me sing. + +DOCTOR +You did so? + +WOOER No. + +DOCTOR 'Twas very ill done, then. +You should observe her ev'ry way. + +WOOER Alas, +I have no voice, sir, to confirm her that way. + +DOCTOR +That's all one, if you make a noise. +If she entreat again, do anything. +Lie with her, if she ask you. + +JAILER Ho there, doctor! + +DOCTOR +Yes, in the way of cure. + +JAILER But first, by your leave, +I' th' way of honesty. + +DOCTOR That's but a niceness. +Ne'er cast your child away for honesty. +Cure her first this way; then if she will be honest, +She has the path before her. + +JAILER +Thank you, doctor. + +DOCTOR Pray bring her in +And let's see how she is. + +JAILER I will, and tell her +Her Palamon stays for her. But, doctor, +Methinks you are i' th' wrong still. [Jailer exits.] + +DOCTOR Go, go. +You fathers are fine fools. Her honesty? +And we should give her physic till we find that! + +WOOER +Why, do you think she is not honest, sir? + +DOCTOR +How old is she? + +WOOER She's eighteen. + +DOCTOR She may be. +But that's all one; 'tis nothing to our purpose. +Whate'er her father says, if you perceive +Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of, +Videlicet, the way of flesh--you have me? + +WOOER +Yes, very well, sir. + +DOCTOR Please her appetite, +And do it home; it cures her, ipso facto, +The melancholy humor that infects her. + +WOOER +I am of your mind, doctor. + +DOCTOR You'll find it so. + +[Enter Jailer, Daughter, and Maid.] + +She comes; pray humor her. +[Wooer and Doctor stand aside.] + +JAILER, [to Daughter] +Come, your love Palamon stays for you, child, +And has done this long hour, to visit you. + +DAUGHTER +I thank him for his gentle patience. +He's a kind gentleman, and I am much bound to +him. +Did you ne'er see the horse he gave me? + +JAILER Yes. + +DAUGHTER +How do you like him? + +JAILER He's a very fair one. + +DAUGHTER +You never saw him dance? + +JAILER No. + +DAUGHTER I have, often. +He dances very finely, very comely, +And for a jig, come cut and long tail to him, +He turns you like a top. + +JAILER That's fine indeed. + +DAUGHTER +He'll dance the morris twenty mile an hour, +And that will founder the best hobbyhorse, +If I have any skill, in all the parish, +And gallops to the tune of "Light o' love." +What think you of this horse? + +JAILER Having these virtues, +I think he might be brought to play at tennis. + +DAUGHTER +Alas, that's nothing. + +JAILER Can he write and read too? + +DAUGHTER +A very fair hand, and casts himself th' accounts +Of all his hay and provender. That hostler +Must rise betime that cozens him. You know +The chestnut mare the Duke has? + +JAILER Very well. + +DAUGHTER +She is horribly in love with him, poor beast, +But he is like his master, coy and scornful. + +JAILER +What dowry has she? + +DAUGHTER Some two hundred bottles, +And twenty strike of oats, but he'll ne'er have her. +He lisps in 's neighing able to entice +A miller's mare. He'll be the death of her. + +DOCTOR, [aside] What stuff she utters! + +[Wooer and Doctor come forward.] + + + +JAILER +Make curtsy; here your love comes. + +WOOER Pretty soul, +How do you? [Daughter curtsies.] +That's a fine maid; there's a curtsy! + +DAUGHTER +Yours to command i' th' way of honesty.-- +How far is 't now to th' end o' th' world, my masters? + +DOCTOR +Why, a day's journey, wench. + +DAUGHTER, [to Wooer] Will you go with me? + +WOOER +What shall we do there, wench? + +DAUGHTER Why, play at +stool-ball. +What is there else to do? + +WOOER I am content, +If we shall keep our wedding there. + +DAUGHTER 'Tis true, +For there, I will assure you, we shall find +Some blind priest for the purpose, that will venture +To marry us; for here they are nice and foolish. +Besides, my father must be hanged tomorrow, +And that would be a blot i' th' business. +Are not you Palamon? + +WOOER Do not you know me? + +DAUGHTER +Yes, but you care not for me; I have nothing +But this poor petticoat and two coarse smocks. + +WOOER +That's all one; I will have you. + +DAUGHTER Will you surely? + +WOOER, [taking her hand] +Yes, by this fair hand, will I. + +DAUGHTER We'll to bed then. + +WOOER +E'en when you will. [He kisses her.] + +DAUGHTER, [wiping her face] O , sir, you would fain +be nibbling. + +WOOER +Why do you rub my kiss off? + +DAUGHTER 'Tis a sweet one, +And will perfume me finely against the wedding. +Is not this your cousin Arcite? [She indicates Doctor.] + +DOCTOR Yes, sweetheart, +And I am glad my cousin Palamon +Has made so fair a choice. + +DAUGHTER Do you think he'll have me? + +DOCTOR +Yes, without doubt. + +DAUGHTER, [to Jailer] Do you think so too? + +JAILER Yes. + +DAUGHTER +We shall have many children. [(To Doctor.)] Lord, +how you're grown! +My Palamon, I hope, will grow too, finely, +Now he's at liberty. Alas, poor chicken, +He was kept down with hard meat and ill lodging, +But I'll kiss him up again. + +[Enter a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +What do you here? You'll lose the noblest sight +That e'er was seen. + +JAILER Are they i' th' field? + +MESSENGER They are. +You bear a charge there too. + +JAILER I'll away straight.-- +I must e'en leave you here. + +DOCTOR Nay, we'll go with you. +I will not lose the sight. + +JAILER, [aside to Doctor] How did you like her? + +DOCTOR +I'll warrant you, within these three or four days +I'll make her right again. [Jailer and Messenger exit.] +[(To Wooer.)] You must not from her, +But still preserve her in this way. + +WOOER I will. + +DOCTOR +Let's get her in. + +WOOER Come, sweet, we'll go to dinner +And then we'll play at cards. + +DAUGHTER And shall we kiss too? + +WOOER +A hundred times. + +DAUGHTER And twenty. + +WOOER Ay, and twenty. + +DAUGHTER +And then we'll sleep together. + +DOCTOR, [to Wooer] Take her offer. + +WOOER +Yes, marry, will we. + +DAUGHTER But you shall not hurt me. + +WOOER +I will not, sweet. + +DAUGHTER If you do, love, I'll cry. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, +Emilia, Pirithous, and some Attendants.] + + +EMILIA +I'll no step further. + +PIRITHOUS Will you lose this sight? + +EMILIA +I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly +Than this decision; ev'ry blow that falls +Threats a brave life; each stroke laments +The place whereon it falls, and sounds more like +A bell than blade. I will stay here. +It is enough my hearing shall be punished +With what shall happen, 'gainst the which there is +No deafing but to hear; not taint mine eye +With dread sights it may shun. + +PIRITHOUS, [to Theseus] Sir, my good lord, +Your sister will no further. + +THESEUS O, she must. +She shall see deeds of honor in their kind, +Which sometime show well, penciled. Nature now +Shall make and act the story, the belief +Both sealed with eye and ear.--You must be present; +You are the victor's meed, the price and garland +To crown the question's title. + +EMILIA Pardon me. +If I were there, I'd wink. + +THESEUS You must be there; +This trial is as 'twere i' th' night, and you +The only star to shine. + +EMILIA I am extinct; +There is but envy in that light which shows +The one the other. Darkness, which ever was +The dam of horror, who does stand accursed +Of many mortal millions, may even now, +By casting her black mantle over both, +That neither could find other, get herself +Some part of a good name, and many a murder +Set off whereto she's guilty. + +HIPPOLYTA You must go. + +EMILIA +In faith, I will not. + +THESEUS Why, the knights must kindle +Their valor at your eye. Know, of this war +You are the treasure, and must needs be by +To give the service pay. + +EMILIA Sir, pardon me. +The title of a kingdom may be tried +Out of itself. + +THESEUS Well, well, then; at your pleasure. +Those that remain with you could wish their office +To any of their enemies. + +HIPPOLYTA Farewell, sister. +I am like to know your husband 'fore yourself +By some small start of time. He whom the gods +Do of the two know best, I pray them he +Be made your lot. +[Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and others, +exit. Emilia remains, comparing again +the pictures of Arcite and Palamon.] + +EMILIA +Arcite is gently visaged, yet his eye +Is like an engine bent, or a sharp weapon +In a soft sheath; mercy and manly courage +Are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon +Has a most menacing aspect; his brow +Is graved, and seems to bury what it frowns on; +Yet sometimes 'tis not so, but alters to +The quality of his thoughts. Long time his eye +Will dwell upon his object. Melancholy +Becomes him nobly; so does Arcite's mirth; +But Palamon's sadness is a kind of mirth, +So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad +And sadness merry. Those darker humors that +Stick misbecomingly on others, on them +Live in fair dwelling. +[Cornets. Trumpets sound as to a charge.] +Hark how yon spurs to spirit do incite +The princes to their proof! Arcite may win me, +And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to +The spoiling of his figure. O, what pity +Enough for such a chance? If I were by, +I might do hurt, for they would glance their eyes +Towards my seat, and in that motion might +Omit a ward or forfeit an offense +Which craved that very time. +[Cornets. A great cry and noise +within crying "A Palamon!"] +It is much better +I am not there. O, better never born +Than minister to such harm! + +[Enter Servant.] + +What is the chance? + +SERVANT The cry's "A Palamon." + +EMILIA Then he has won. 'Twas ever likely. +He looked all grace and success, and he is +Doubtless the prim'st of men. I prithee run +And tell me how it goes. +[Shout and cornets, crying "A Palamon!"] + +SERVANT Still "Palamon." + +EMILIA +Run and inquire. [Servant exits.] +[Addressing Arcite's picture.] Poor servant, thou hast +lost. +Upon my right side still I wore thy picture, +Palamon's on the left--why so, I know not. +I had no end in 't else; chance would have it so. +On the sinister side the heart lies; Palamon +Had the best-boding chance. +[Another cry, and shout within, and cornets.] +This burst of clamor +Is sure th' end o' th' combat. + +[Enter Servant.] + + +SERVANT +They said that Palamon had Arcite's body +Within an inch o' th' pyramid, that the cry +Was general "A Palamon." But anon, +Th' assistants made a brave redemption, and +The two bold titlers at this instant are +Hand to hand at it. + +EMILIA Were they metamorphosed +Both into one--O, why, there were no woman +Worth so composed a man! Their single share, +Their nobleness peculiar to them, gives +The prejudice of disparity, value's shortness, +To any lady breathing. +[Cornets. Cry within, "Arcite, Arcite."] +More exulting? +"Palamon" still? + +SERVANT Nay, now the sound is "Arcite." + +EMILIA +I prithee lay attention to the cry; +Set both thine ears to th' business. +[Cornets. A great shout, and cry "Arcite, victory!"] + +SERVANT The cry is "Arcite" +And "Victory! Hark, Arcite, victory!" +The combat's consummation is proclaimed +By the wind instruments. + +EMILIA Half-sights saw +That Arcite was no babe. God's lid, his richness +And costliness of spirit looked through him; it could +No more be hid in him than fire in flax, +Than humble banks can go to law with waters +That drift-winds force to raging. I did think +Good Palamon would miscarry, yet I knew not +Why I did think so. Our reasons are not prophets +When oft our fancies are. They are coming off. +Alas, poor Palamon! + +[Cornets. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, +Arcite as victor, and Attendants and others.] + + +THESEUS +Lo, where our sister is in expectation, +Yet quaking and unsettled.--Fairest Emily, +The gods by their divine arbitrament +Have given you this knight; he is a good one +As ever struck at head.--Give me your hands. +Receive you her, you him. Be plighted with +A love that grows as you decay. + +ARCITE Emily, +To buy you I have lost what's dearest to me +Save what is bought, and yet I purchase cheaply, +As I do rate your value. + +THESEUS O loved sister, +He speaks now of as brave a knight as e'er +Did spur a noble steed. Surely the gods +Would have him die a bachelor, lest his race +Should show i' th' world too godlike. His behavior +So charmed me that methought Alcides was +To him a sow of lead. If I could praise +Each part of him to th' all I have spoke, your Arcite +Did not lose by 't, for he that was thus good +Encountered yet his better. I have heard +Two emulous Philomels beat the ear o' th' night +With their contentious throats, now one the higher, +Anon the other, then again the first, +And by-and-by out-breasted, that the sense +Could not be judge between 'em. So it fared +Good space between these kinsmen, till heavens did +Make hardly one the winner.--Wear the garland +With joy that you have won.--For the subdued, +Give them our present justice, since I know +Their lives but pinch 'em. Let it here be done. +The scene's not for our seeing. Go we hence +Right joyful, with some sorrow.--Arm your prize; +I know you will not lose her.--Hippolyta, +I see one eye of yours conceives a tear, +The which it will deliver. + +EMILIA Is this winning? +O all you heavenly powers, where is your mercy? +But that your wills have said it must be so, +And charge me live to comfort this unfriended, +This miserable prince, that cuts away +A life more worthy from him than all women, +I should and would die too. + +HIPPOLYTA Infinite pity +That four such eyes should be so fixed on one +That two must needs be blind for 't. + +THESEUS So it is. +[Flourish. They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Guard with Palamon and his Knights, +pinioned; Jailer, Executioner and Others, +carrying a block and an ax.] + + +PALAMON +There's many a man alive that hath outlived +The love o' th' people; yea, i' th' selfsame state +Stands many a father with his child. Some comfort +We have by so considering. We expire, +And not without men's pity. To live still, +Have their good wishes; we prevent +The loathsome misery of age, beguile +The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend +For gray approachers; we come towards the gods +Young and unwappered, not halting under crimes +Many and stale. That sure shall please the gods +Sooner than such, to give us nectar with 'em, +For we are more clear spirits. My dear kinsmen, +Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down, +You have sold 'em too too cheap. + +FIRST KNIGHT What ending could be +Of more content? O'er us the victors have +Fortune, whose title is as momentary +As to us death is certain. A grain of honor +They not o'er-weigh us. + +SECOND KNIGHT Let us bid farewell; +And with our patience anger tott'ring Fortune, +Who at her certain'st reels. + +THIRD KNIGHT Come, who begins? + +PALAMON +E'en he that led you to this banquet shall +Taste to you all. [To Jailer.] Ah ha, my friend, my +friend, +Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once; +You'll see 't done now forever. Pray, how does she? +I heard she was not well; her kind of ill +Gave me some sorrow. + +JAILER Sir, she's well restored, +And to be married shortly. + +PALAMON By my short life, +I am most glad on 't. 'Tis the latest thing +I shall be glad of; prithee, tell her so. +Commend me to her, and to piece her portion, +Tender her this. [He gives his purse to Jailer.] + +FIRST KNIGHT Nay, let's be offerers all. + +SECOND KNIGHT +Is it a maid? + +PALAMON Verily, I think so. +A right good creature, more to me deserving +Than I can quit or speak of. + +ALL KNIGHTS Commend us to her. +[They give their purses.] + +JAILER +The gods requite you all and make her thankful! + +PALAMON +Adieu, and let my life be now as short +As my leave-taking. [Lays his head on the block.] + +FIRST KNIGHT Lead, courageous cousin. + +SECOND AND THIRD KNIGHTS We'll follow cheerfully. + +[A great noise within crying "Run!" "Save!" "Hold!" +Enter in haste a Messenger.] + + +MESSENGER +Hold, hold! O, hold, hold, hold! + +[Enter Pirithous in haste.] + + +PIRITHOUS +Hold, ho! It is a cursed haste you made +If you have done so quickly!--Noble Palamon, +The gods will show their glory in a life +That thou art yet to lead. + +PALAMON Can that be, +When Venus, I have said, is false? How do things +fare? + +PIRITHOUS +Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear +That are most dearly sweet and bitter. + +PALAMON, [rising] What +Hath waked us from our dream? + +PIRITHOUS List then: your +cousin, +Mounted upon a steed that Emily +Did first bestow on him--a black one, owing +Not a hair worth of white, which some will say +Weakens his price, and many will not buy +His goodness with this note, which superstition +Here finds allowance--on this horse is Arcite +Trotting the stones of Athens--which the calkins +Did rather tell than trample, for the horse +Would make his length a mile, if 't pleased his rider +To put pride in him. As he thus went counting +The flinty pavement, dancing, as 'twere, to th' music +His own hooves made--for, as they say, from iron +Came music's origin--what envious flint, +Cold as old Saturn, and like him possessed +With fire malevolent, darted a spark, +Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made, +I comment not; the hot horse, hot as fire, +Took toy at this and fell to what disorder +His power could give his will; bounds, comes on end, +Forgets school-doing, being therein trained +And of kind manage. Pig-like he whines +At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather +Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means +Of boist'rous and rough jadery to disseat +His lord that kept it bravely. When naught served, +When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor +diff'ring plunges +Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that +He kept him 'tween his legs, on his hind hoofs +On end he stands +That Arcite's legs, being higher than his head, +Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor's wreath +Even then fell off his head, and presently +Backward the jade comes o'er, and his full poise +Becomes the rider's load. Yet is he living, +But such a vessel 'tis that floats but for +The surge that next approaches. He much desires +To have some speech with you. Lo, he appears. + +[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, +and Arcite carried in a chair.] + + +PALAMON +O, miserable end of our alliance! +The gods are mighty, Arcite. If thy heart, +Thy worthy, manly heart, be yet unbroken, +Give me thy last words. I am Palamon, +One that yet loves thee dying. + +ARCITE Take Emilia +And with her all the world's joy. Reach thy hand; +Farewell. I have told my last hour. I was false, +Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin. +One kiss from fair Emilia. [She kisses him.] +'Tis done. +Take her. I die. [He dies.] + +PALAMON Thy brave soul seek Elysium! + +EMILIA +I'll close thine eyes, prince. Blessed souls be with +thee! +Thou art a right good man, and while I live, +This day I give to tears. + +PALAMON And I to honor. + +THESEUS +In this place first you fought; e'en very here +I sundered you. Acknowledge to the gods +Our thanks that you are living. +His part is played, and though it were too short, +He did it well. Your day is lengthened, and +The blissful dew of heaven does arrouse you. +The powerful Venus well hath graced her altar, +And given you your love. Our master, Mars, +Hath vouched his oracle, and to Arcite gave +The grace of the contention. So the deities +Have showed due justice.--Bear this hence. + +PALAMON O cousin, +That we should things desire which do cost us +The loss of our desire, that naught could buy +Dear love but loss of dear love. +[Arcite's body is carried out.] + +THESEUS Never Fortune +Did play a subtler game. The conquered triumphs; +The victor has the loss; yet in the passage +The gods have been most equal.--Palamon, +Your kinsman hath confessed the right o' th' lady +Did lie in you, for you first saw her and +Even then proclaimed your fancy. He restored her +As your stol'n jewel and desired your spirit +To send him hence forgiven. The gods my justice +Take from my hand and they themselves become +The executioners. Lead your lady off, +And call your lovers from the stage of death, +Whom I adopt my friends. A day or two +Let us look sadly, and give grace unto +The funeral of Arcite, in whose end +The visages of bridegrooms we'll put on +And smile with Palamon--for whom an hour, +But one hour since, I was as dearly sorry +As glad of Arcite, and am now as glad +As for him sorry. O you heavenly charmers, +What things you make of us! For what we lack +We laugh, for what we have are sorry, still +Are children in some kind. Let us be thankful +For that which is, and with you leave dispute +That are above our question. Let's go off +And bear us like the time. +[Flourish. They exit.] + + + + +[Enter Epilogue.] + + +EPILOGUE +I would now ask you how you like the play, +But, as it is with schoolboys, cannot say. +I am cruel fearful! Pray yet, stay a while, +And let me look upon you. No man smile? +Then it goes hard, I see. He that has +Loved a young handsome wench, then, show his +face-- +'Tis strange if none be here--and, if he will, +Against his conscience let him hiss and kill +Our market. 'Tis in vain, I see, to stay you. +Have at the worst can come, then! Now what say +you? +And yet mistake me not: I am not bold. +We have no such cause. If the tale we have told-- +For 'tis no other--any way content you-- +For to that honest purpose it was meant you-- +We have our end; and you shall have ere long, +I dare say, many a better, to prolong +Your old loves to us. We, and all our might, +Rest at your service. Gentlemen, good night. +[Flourish. He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/the-winters-tale_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/the-winters-tale_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25babf2 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/the-winters-tale_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4671 @@ +The Winter's Tale +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-winters-tale/ +Created on Apr 12, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +LEONTES, King of Sicilia +HERMIONE, Queen of Sicilia +MAMILLIUS, their son +PERDITA, their daughter +POLIXENES, King of Bohemia +FLORIZELL, his son +CAMILLO, a courtier, friend to Leontes and then to Polixenes +ANTIGONUS, a Sicilian courtier +PAULINA, his wife and lady-in-waiting to Hermione +Courtiers in Sicilia: + CLEOMENES + DION +EMILIA, a lady-in-waiting to Hermione +SHEPHERD, foster father to Perdita +SHEPHERD'S SON +AUTOLYCUS, former servant to Florizell, now a rogue +ARCHIDAMUS, a Bohemian courtier +TIME, as Chorus +TWO LADIES attending on Hermione +LORDS, SERVANTS, and GENTLEMEN attending on Leontes +An OFFICER of the court +A MARINER +A JAILER +Shepherdesses in Bohemia: + MOPSA + DORCAS +SERVANT to the Shepherd +SHEPHERDS and SHEPHERDESSES +Twelve COUNTRYMEN disguised as satyrs + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Camillo and Archidamus.] + + +ARCHIDAMUS If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia +on the like occasion whereon my services +are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great +difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia. + +CAMILLO I think this coming summer the King of +Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which +he justly owes him. + +ARCHIDAMUS Wherein our entertainment shall shame +us; we will be justified in our loves. For indeed-- + +CAMILLO Beseech you-- + +ARCHIDAMUS Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my +knowledge. We cannot with such magnificence--in +so rare--I know not what to say. We will give you +sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our +insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as +little accuse us. + +CAMILLO You pay a great deal too dear for what's given +freely. + +ARCHIDAMUS Believe me, I speak as my understanding +instructs me and as mine honesty puts it to +utterance. + +CAMILLO Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. +They were trained together in their childhoods, +and there rooted betwixt them then such an +affection which cannot choose but branch now. +Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities +made separation of their society, their encounters, +though not personal, hath been royally +attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving +embassies, that they have seemed to be together +though absent, shook hands as over a vast, and +embraced as it were from the ends of opposed +winds. The heavens continue their loves. + +ARCHIDAMUS I think there is not in the world either +malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable +comfort of your young Prince Mamillius. It is a +gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came +into my note. + +CAMILLO I very well agree with you in the hopes of +him. It is a gallant child--one that indeed physics +the subject, makes old hearts fresh. They that went +on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to +see him a man. + +ARCHIDAMUS Would they else be content to die? + +CAMILLO Yes, if there were no other excuse why they +should desire to live. + +ARCHIDAMUS If the King had no son, they would desire +to live on crutches till he had one. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo, +and Attendants.] + + +POLIXENES +Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been +The shepherd's note since we have left our throne +Without a burden. Time as long again +Would be filled up, my brother, with our thanks, +And yet we should for perpetuity +Go hence in debt. And therefore, like a cipher, +Yet standing in rich place, I multiply +With one "We thank you" many thousands more +That go before it. + +LEONTES Stay your thanks awhile, +And pay them when you part. + +POLIXENES Sir, that's tomorrow. +I am questioned by my fears of what may chance +Or breed upon our absence, that may blow +No sneaping winds at home to make us say +"This is put forth too truly." Besides, I have stayed +To tire your Royalty. + +LEONTES We are tougher, brother, +Than you can put us to 't. + +POLIXENES No longer stay. + +LEONTES +One sev'nnight longer. + +POLIXENES Very sooth, tomorrow. + +LEONTES +We'll part the time between 's, then, and in that +I'll no gainsaying. + +POLIXENES Press me not, beseech you, so. +There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' th' +world, +So soon as yours could win me. So it should now, +Were there necessity in your request, although +'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs +Do even drag me homeward, which to hinder +Were in your love a whip to me, my stay +To you a charge and trouble. To save both, +Farewell, our brother. + +LEONTES Tongue-tied, our queen? +Speak you. + +HERMIONE +I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until +You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir, +Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure +All in Bohemia's well. This satisfaction +The bygone day proclaimed. Say this to him, +He's beat from his best ward. + +LEONTES Well said, Hermione. + +HERMIONE +To tell he longs to see his son were strong. +But let him say so then, and let him go. +But let him swear so and he shall not stay; +We'll thwack him hence with distaffs. +[To Polixenes.] Yet of your royal presence I'll +adventure +The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia +You take my lord, I'll give him my commission +To let him there a month behind the gest +Prefixed for 's parting.--Yet, good deed, Leontes, +I love thee not a jar o' th' clock behind +What lady she her lord.--You'll stay? + +POLIXENES No, madam. + +HERMIONE +Nay, but you will? + +POLIXENES I may not, verily. + +HERMIONE Verily? +You put me off with limber vows. But I, +Though you would seek t' unsphere the stars with +oaths, +Should yet say "Sir, no going." Verily, +You shall not go. A lady's "verily" is +As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? +Force me to keep you as a prisoner, +Not like a guest, so you shall pay your fees +When you depart and save your thanks. How say you? +My prisoner or my guest? By your dread "verily," +One of them you shall be. + +POLIXENES Your guest, then, madam. +To be your prisoner should import offending, +Which is for me less easy to commit +Than you to punish. + +HERMIONE Not your jailer, then, +But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you +Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys. +You were pretty lordings then? + +POLIXENES We were, fair queen, +Two lads that thought there was no more behind +But such a day tomorrow as today, +And to be boy eternal. + +HERMIONE Was not my lord +The verier wag o' th' two? + +POLIXENES +We were as twinned lambs that did frisk i' th' sun +And bleat the one at th' other. What we changed +Was innocence for innocence. We knew not +The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed +That any did. Had we pursued that life, +And our weak spirits ne'er been higher reared +With stronger blood, we should have answered +heaven +Boldly "Not guilty," the imposition cleared +Hereditary ours. + +HERMIONE By this we gather +You have tripped since. + +POLIXENES O my most sacred lady, +Temptations have since then been born to 's, for +In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; +Your precious self had then not crossed the eyes +Of my young playfellow. + +HERMIONE Grace to boot! +Of this make no conclusion, lest you say +Your queen and I are devils. Yet go on. +Th' offenses we have made you do we'll answer, +If you first sinned with us, and that with us +You did continue fault, and that you slipped not +With any but with us. + +LEONTES Is he won yet? + +HERMIONE +He'll stay, my lord. + +LEONTES At my request he would not. +Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st +To better purpose. + +HERMIONE Never? + +LEONTES Never but once. + +HERMIONE +What, have I twice said well? When was 't before? +I prithee tell me. Cram 's with praise, and make 's +As fat as tame things. One good deed dying +tongueless +Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. +Our praises are our wages. You may ride 's +With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere +With spur we heat an acre. But to th' goal: +My last good deed was to entreat his stay. +What was my first? It has an elder sister, +Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace! +But once before I spoke to th' purpose? When? +Nay, let me have 't; I long. + +LEONTES Why, that was when +Three crabbed months had soured themselves to +death +Ere I could make thee open thy white hand +And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter +"I am yours forever." + +HERMIONE 'Tis grace indeed. +Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th' purpose twice. +The one forever earned a royal husband, +Th' other for some while a friend. +[She gives Polixenes her hand.] + +LEONTES, [aside] Too hot, too hot! +To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. +I have tremor cordis on me. My heart dances, +But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment +May a free face put on, derive a liberty +From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, +And well become the agent. 'T may, I grant. +But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, +As now they are, and making practiced smiles +As in a looking glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere +The mort o' th' deer--O, that is entertainment +My bosom likes not, nor my brows.--Mamillius, +Art thou my boy? + +MAMILLIUS Ay, my good lord. + +LEONTES I' fecks! +Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutched thy +nose? +They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, +We must be neat--not neat, but cleanly, captain. +And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf +Are all called neat.--Still virginalling +Upon his palm?--How now, you wanton calf? +Art thou my calf? + +MAMILLIUS Yes, if you will, my lord. + +LEONTES +Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I +have +To be full like me; yet they say we are +Almost as like as eggs. Women say so, +That will say anything. But were they false +As o'erdyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false +As dice are to be wished by one that fixes +No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true +To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, +Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain, +Most dear'st, my collop! Can thy dam?--may 't +be?-- +Affection, thy intention stabs the center. +Thou dost make possible things not so held, +Communicat'st with dreams--how can this be? +With what's unreal thou coactive art, +And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent +Thou may'st co-join with something; and thou dost, +And that beyond commission, and I find it, +And that to the infection of my brains +And hard'ning of my brows. + +POLIXENES What means Sicilia? + +HERMIONE +He something seems unsettled. + +POLIXENES How, my lord? + +LEONTES +What cheer? How is 't with you, best brother? + +HERMIONE You look +As if you held a brow of much distraction. +Are you moved, my lord? + +LEONTES No, in good earnest. +How sometimes nature will betray its folly, +Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime +To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines +Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil +Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreeched, +In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled +Lest it should bite its master and so prove, +As ornaments oft do, too dangerous. +How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, +This squash, this gentleman.--Mine honest friend, +Will you take eggs for money? + +MAMILLIUS No, my lord, I'll fight. + +LEONTES +You will? Why, happy man be 's dole!--My brother, +Are you so fond of your young prince as we +Do seem to be of ours? + +POLIXENES If at home, sir, +He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter, +Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy, +My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all. +He makes a July's day short as December, +And with his varying childness cures in me +Thoughts that would thick my blood. + +LEONTES So stands this +squire +Officed with me. We two will walk, my lord, +And leave you to your graver steps.--Hermione, +How thou lov'st us show in our brother's welcome. +Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap. +Next to thyself and my young rover, he's +Apparent to my heart. + +HERMIONE If you would seek us, +We are yours i' th' garden. Shall 's attend you there? + +LEONTES +To your own bents dispose you. You'll be found, +Be you beneath the sky. [Aside.] I am angling now, +Though you perceive me not how I give line. +Go to, go to! +How she holds up the neb, the bill to him, +And arms her with the boldness of a wife +To her allowing husband! +[Exit Hermione, Polixenes, and Attendants.] +Gone already. +Inch thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a forked +one!-- +Go play, boy, play. Thy mother plays, and I +Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue +Will hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamor +Will be my knell. Go play, boy, play.--There have +been, +Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now; +And many a man there is, even at this present, +Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm, +That little thinks she has been sluiced in 's absence, +And his pond fished by his next neighbor, by +Sir Smile, his neighbor. Nay, there's comfort in 't +Whiles other men have gates and those gates +opened, +As mine, against their will. Should all despair +That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind +Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there's none. +It is a bawdy planet, that will strike +Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it, +From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded, +No barricado for a belly. Know 't, +It will let in and out the enemy +With bag and baggage. Many thousand on 's +Have the disease and feel 't not.--How now, boy? + +MAMILLIUS +I am like you, they say. + +LEONTES Why, that's some comfort.-- +What, Camillo there? + +CAMILLO, [coming forward] Ay, my good lord. + +LEONTES +Go play, Mamillius. Thou 'rt an honest man. +[Mamillius exits.] +Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. + +CAMILLO +You had much ado to make his anchor hold. +When you cast out, it still came home. + +LEONTES Didst note it? + +CAMILLO +He would not stay at your petitions, made +His business more material. + +LEONTES Didst perceive it? +[Aside.] They're here with me already, whisp'ring, +rounding: +"Sicilia is a so-forth." 'Tis far gone +When I shall gust it last.--How came 't, Camillo, +That he did stay? + +CAMILLO At the good queen's entreaty. + +LEONTES +"At the queen's" be 't. "Good" should be pertinent, +But so it is, it is not. Was this taken +By any understanding pate but thine? +For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in +More than the common blocks. Not noted, is 't, +But of the finer natures, by some severals +Of headpiece extraordinary? Lower messes +Perchance are to this business purblind? Say. + +CAMILLO +Business, my lord? I think most understand +Bohemia stays here longer. + +LEONTES +Ha? + +CAMILLO Stays here longer. + +LEONTES Ay, but why? + +CAMILLO +To satisfy your Highness and the entreaties +Of our most gracious mistress. + +LEONTES Satisfy? +Th' entreaties of your mistress? Satisfy? +Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, +With all the nearest things to my heart, as well +My chamber-counsels, wherein, priestlike, thou +Hast cleansed my bosom; I from thee departed +Thy penitent reformed. But we have been +Deceived in thy integrity, deceived +In that which seems so. + +CAMILLO Be it forbid, my lord! + +LEONTES +To bide upon 't: thou art not honest; or, +If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, +Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining +From course required; or else thou must be +counted +A servant grafted in my serious trust +And therein negligent; or else a fool +That seest a game played home, the rich stake +drawn, +And tak'st it all for jest. + +CAMILLO My gracious lord, +I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful. +In every one of these no man is free, +But that his negligence, his folly, fear, +Among the infinite doings of the world, +Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, +If ever I were willful-negligent, +It was my folly; if industriously +I played the fool, it was my negligence, +Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful +To do a thing where I the issue doubted, +Whereof the execution did cry out +Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear +Which oft infects the wisest. These, my lord, +Are such allowed infirmities that honesty +Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace, +Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass +By its own visage. If I then deny it, +'Tis none of mine. + +LEONTES Ha' not you seen, Camillo-- +But that's past doubt; you have, or your eyeglass +Is thicker than a cuckold's horn--or heard-- +For to a vision so apparent, rumor +Cannot be mute--or thought--for cogitation +Resides not in that man that does not think-- +My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess-- +Or else be impudently negative +To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought--then say +My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name +As rank as any flax-wench that puts to +Before her troth-plight. Say 't, and justify 't. + +CAMILLO +I would not be a stander-by to hear +My sovereign mistress clouded so without +My present vengeance taken. 'Shrew my heart, +You never spoke what did become you less +Than this, which to reiterate were sin +As deep as that, though true. + +LEONTES Is whispering nothing? +Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses? +Kissing with inside lip? Stopping the career +Of laughter with a sigh?--a note infallible +Of breaking honesty. Horsing foot on foot? +Skulking in corners? Wishing clocks more swift? +Hours minutes? Noon midnight? And all eyes +Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, +That would unseen be wicked? Is this nothing? +Why, then the world and all that's in 't is nothing, +The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing, +My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings, +If this be nothing. + +CAMILLO Good my lord, be cured +Of this diseased opinion, and betimes, +For 'tis most dangerous. + +LEONTES Say it be, 'tis true. + +CAMILLO +No, no, my lord. + +LEONTES It is. You lie, you lie. +I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, +Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, +Or else a hovering temporizer that +Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, +Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver +Infected as her life, she would not live +The running of one glass. + +CAMILLO Who does infect her? + +LEONTES +Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging +About his neck--Bohemia, who, if I +Had servants true about me, that bare eyes +To see alike mine honor as their profits, +Their own particular thrifts, they would do that +Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou, +His cupbearer--whom I from meaner form +Have benched and reared to worship, who mayst see +Plainly as heaven sees Earth and Earth sees heaven +How I am galled--mightst bespice a cup +To give mine enemy a lasting wink, +Which draft to me were cordial. + +CAMILLO Sir, my lord, +I could do this, and that with no rash potion, +But with a ling'ring dram that should not work +Maliciously like poison. But I cannot +Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, +So sovereignly being honorable. I have loved thee-- + +LEONTES Make that thy question, and go rot! +Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, +To appoint myself in this vexation, sully +The purity and whiteness of my sheets-- +Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted +Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps-- +Give scandal to the blood o' th' Prince, my son, +Who I do think is mine and love as mine, +Without ripe moving to 't? Would I do this? +Could man so blench? + +CAMILLO I must believe you, sir. +I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for 't-- +Provided that, when he's removed, your Highness +Will take again your queen as yours at first, +Even for your son's sake, and thereby for sealing +The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms +Known and allied to yours. + +LEONTES Thou dost advise me +Even so as I mine own course have set down. +I'll give no blemish to her honor, none. + +CAMILLO My lord, +Go then, and with a countenance as clear +As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia +And with your queen. I am his cupbearer. +If from me he have wholesome beverage, +Account me not your servant. + +LEONTES This is all. +Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart; +Do 't not, thou splitt'st thine own. + +CAMILLO I'll do 't, my lord. + +LEONTES +I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. +[He exits.] + +CAMILLO +O miserable lady! But, for me, +What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner +Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do 't +Is the obedience to a master, one +Who in rebellion with himself will have +All that are his so too. To do this deed, +Promotion follows. If I could find example +Of thousands that had struck anointed kings +And flourished after, I'd not do 't. But since +Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment bears not one, +Let villainy itself forswear 't. I must +Forsake the court. To do 't or no is certain +To me a breakneck. Happy star reign now! +Here comes Bohemia. + +[Enter Polixenes.] + + +POLIXENES, [aside] This is strange. Methinks +My favor here begins to warp. Not speak?-- +Good day, Camillo. + +CAMILLO Hail, most royal sir. + +POLIXENES +What is the news i' th' court? + +CAMILLO None rare, my lord. + +POLIXENES +The King hath on him such a countenance +As he had lost some province and a region +Loved as he loves himself. Even now I met him +With customary compliment, when he, +Wafting his eyes to th' contrary and falling +A lip of much contempt, speeds from me, and +So leaves me to consider what is breeding +That changes thus his manners. + +CAMILLO I dare not know, my +lord. + +POLIXENES +How, dare not? Do not? Do you know and dare not? +Be intelligent to me--'tis thereabouts; +For to yourself what you do know, you must, +And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo, +Your changed complexions are to me a mirror +Which shows me mine changed too, for I must be +A party in this alteration, finding +Myself thus altered with 't. + +CAMILLO There is a sickness +Which puts some of us in distemper, but +I cannot name the disease, and it is caught +Of you that yet are well. + +POLIXENES How caught of me? +Make me not sighted like the basilisk. +I have looked on thousands who have sped the +better +By my regard, but killed none so. Camillo, +As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto +Clerklike experienced, which no less adorns +Our gentry than our parents' noble names, +In whose success we are gentle, I beseech you, +If you know aught which does behoove my +knowledge +Thereof to be informed, imprison 't not +In ignorant concealment. + +CAMILLO I may not answer. + +POLIXENES +A sickness caught of me, and yet I well? +I must be answered. Dost thou hear, Camillo? +I conjure thee by all the parts of man +Which honor does acknowledge, whereof the least +Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare +What incidency thou dost guess of harm +Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; +Which way to be prevented, if to be; +If not, how best to bear it. + +CAMILLO Sir, I will tell you, +Since I am charged in honor and by him +That I think honorable. Therefore mark my counsel, +Which must be e'en as swiftly followed as +I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me +Cry lost, and so goodnight. + +POLIXENES On, good Camillo. + +CAMILLO +I am appointed him to murder you. + +POLIXENES +By whom, Camillo? + +CAMILLO By the King. + +POLIXENES For what? + +CAMILLO +He thinks, nay with all confidence he swears, +As he had seen 't or been an instrument +To vice you to 't, that you have touched his queen +Forbiddenly. + +POLIXENES O, then my best blood turn +To an infected jelly, and my name +Be yoked with his that did betray the Best! +Turn then my freshest reputation to +A savor that may strike the dullest nostril +Where I arrive, and my approach be shunned, +Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection +That e'er was heard or read. + +CAMILLO Swear his thought over +By each particular star in heaven and +By all their influences, you may as well +Forbid the sea for to obey the moon +As or by oath remove or counsel shake +The fabric of his folly, whose foundation +Is piled upon his faith and will continue +The standing of his body. + +POLIXENES How should this grow? + +CAMILLO +I know not. But I am sure 'tis safer to +Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born. +If therefore you dare trust my honesty, +That lies enclosed in this trunk which you +Shall bear along impawned, away tonight! +Your followers I will whisper to the business, +And will by twos and threes at several posterns +Clear them o' th' city. For myself, I'll put +My fortunes to your service, which are here +By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain, +For, by the honor of my parents, I +Have uttered truth--which if you seek to prove, +I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer +Than one condemned by the King's own mouth, +thereon +His execution sworn. + +POLIXENES I do believe thee. +I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand. +Be pilot to me and thy places shall +Still neighbor mine. My ships are ready and +My people did expect my hence departure +Two days ago. This jealousy +Is for a precious creature. As she's rare, +Must it be great; and as his person's mighty, +Must it be violent; and as he does conceive +He is dishonored by a man which ever +Professed to him, why, his revenges must +In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me. +Good expedition be my friend, and comfort +The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing +Of his ill-ta'en suspicion. Come, Camillo, +I will respect thee as a father if +Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid. + +CAMILLO +It is in mine authority to command +The keys of all the posterns. Please your Highness +To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.] + + +HERMIONE +Take the boy to you. He so troubles me +'Tis past enduring. + +FIRST LADY Come, my gracious lord, +Shall I be your playfellow? + +MAMILLIUS +No, I'll none of you. + +FIRST LADY Why, my sweet lord? + +MAMILLIUS +You'll kiss me hard and speak to me as if +I were a baby still.--I love you better. + +SECOND LADY +And why so, my lord? + +MAMILLIUS Not for because +Your brows are blacker--yet black brows, they say, +Become some women best, so that there be not +Too much hair there, but in a semicircle, +Or a half-moon made with a pen. + +SECOND LADY Who taught this? + +MAMILLIUS +I learned it out of women's faces.--Pray now, +What color are your eyebrows? + +FIRST LADY Blue, my lord. + +MAMILLIUS +Nay, that's a mock. I have seen a lady's nose +That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. + +FIRST LADY Hark ye, +The Queen your mother rounds apace. We shall +Present our services to a fine new prince +One of these days, and then you'd wanton with us +If we would have you. + +SECOND LADY She is spread of late +Into a goodly bulk. Good time encounter her! + +HERMIONE +What wisdom stirs amongst you?--Come, sir, now +I am for you again. Pray you sit by us, +And tell 's a tale. + +MAMILLIUS Merry or sad shall 't be? + +HERMIONE As merry as you will. + +MAMILLIUS +A sad tale's best for winter. I have one +Of sprites and goblins. + +HERMIONE Let's have that, good sir. +Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best +To fright me with your sprites. You're powerful at it. + +MAMILLIUS +There was a man-- + +HERMIONE Nay, come sit down, then on. + +MAMILLIUS +Dwelt by a churchyard. I will tell it softly, +Yond crickets shall not hear it. + +HERMIONE +Come on then, and give 't me in mine ear. + +[They talk privately.] + +[Enter Leontes, Antigonus, and Lords.] + + +LEONTES +Was he met there? His train? Camillo with him? + +LORD +Behind the tuft of pines I met them. Never +Saw I men scour so on their way. I eyed them +Even to their ships. + +LEONTES How blest am I +In my just censure, in my true opinion! +Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accursed +In being so blest! There may be in the cup +A spider steeped, and one may drink, depart, +And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge +Is not infected; but if one present +Th' abhorred ingredient to his eye, make known +How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, +With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider. +Camillo was his help in this, his pander. +There is a plot against my life, my crown. +All's true that is mistrusted. That false villain +Whom I employed was pre-employed by him. +He has discovered my design, and I +Remain a pinched thing, yea, a very trick +For them to play at will. How came the posterns +So easily open? + +LORD By his great authority, +Which often hath no less prevailed than so +On your command. + +LEONTES I know 't too well. +[To Hermione.] Give me the boy. I am glad you did +not nurse him. +Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you +Have too much blood in him. + +HERMIONE What is this? Sport? + +LEONTES, [to the Ladies] +Bear the boy hence. He shall not come about her. +Away with him, and let her sport herself +With that she's big with, [(to Hermione)] for 'tis +Polixenes +Has made thee swell thus. +[A Lady exits with Mamillius.] + +HERMIONE But I'd say he had not, +And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying, +Howe'er you lean to th' nayward. + +LEONTES You, my lords, +Look on her, mark her well. Be but about +To say "She is a goodly lady," and +The justice of your hearts will thereto add +"'Tis pity she's not honest, honorable." +Praise her but for this her without-door form, +Which on my faith deserves high speech, and +straight +The shrug, the "hum," or "ha," these petty brands +That calumny doth use--O, I am out, +That mercy does, for calumny will sear +Virtue itself--these shrugs, these "hum"s and "ha"s, +When you have said she's goodly, come between +Ere you can say she's honest. But be 't known, +From him that has most cause to grieve it should be, +She's an adult'ress. + +HERMIONE Should a villain say so, +The most replenished villain in the world, +He were as much more villain. You, my lord, +Do but mistake. + +LEONTES You have mistook, my lady, +Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing, +Which I'll not call a creature of thy place +Lest barbarism, making me the precedent, +Should a like language use to all degrees, +And mannerly distinguishment leave out +Betwixt the prince and beggar.--I have said +She's an adult'ress; I have said with whom. +More, she's a traitor, and Camillo is +A federary with her, and one that knows +What she should shame to know herself +But with her most vile principal: that she's +A bed-swerver, even as bad as those +That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy +To this their late escape. + +HERMIONE No, by my life, +Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you, +When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that +You thus have published me! Gentle my lord, +You scarce can right me throughly then to say +You did mistake. + +LEONTES No. If I mistake +In those foundations which I build upon, +The center is not big enough to bear +A schoolboy's top.--Away with her to prison. +He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty +But that he speaks. + +HERMIONE There's some ill planet reigns. +I must be patient till the heavens look +With an aspect more favorable. Good my lords, +I am not prone to weeping, as our sex +Commonly are, the want of which vain dew +Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have +That honorable grief lodged here which burns +Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords, +With thoughts so qualified as your charities +Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so +The King's will be performed. + +LEONTES Shall I be heard? + +HERMIONE +Who is 't that goes with me? Beseech your Highness +My women may be with me, for you see +My plight requires it.--Do not weep, good fools; +There is no cause. When you shall know your +mistress +Has deserved prison, then abound in tears +As I come out. This action I now go on +Is for my better grace.--Adieu, my lord. +I never wished to see you sorry; now +I trust I shall.--My women, come; you have leave. + +LEONTES Go, do our bidding. Hence! +[Hermione exits, under guard, with her Ladies.] + +LORD +Beseech your Highness, call the Queen again. + +ANTIGONUS +Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice +Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer: +Yourself, your queen, your son. + +LORD For her, my lord, +I dare my life lay down--and will do 't, sir, +Please you t' accept it--that the Queen is spotless +I' th' eyes of heaven, and to you--I mean +In this which you accuse her. + +ANTIGONUS If it prove +She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where +I lodge my wife. I'll go in couples with her; +Than when I feel and see her, no farther trust her. +For every inch of woman in the world, +Ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false, +If she be. + +LEONTES Hold your peaces. + +LORD Good my lord-- + +ANTIGONUS +It is for you we speak, not for ourselves. +You are abused, and by some putter-on +That will be damned for 't. Would I knew the +villain! +I would land-damn him. Be she honor-flawed, +I have three daughters--the eldest is eleven; +The second and the third, nine and some five; +If this prove true, they'll pay for 't. By mine honor, +I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see +To bring false generations. They are co-heirs, +And I had rather glib myself than they +Should not produce fair issue. + +LEONTES Cease. No more. +You smell this business with a sense as cold +As is a dead man's nose. But I do see 't and feel 't, +As you feel doing thus, and see withal +The instruments that feel. + +ANTIGONUS If it be so, +We need no grave to bury honesty. +There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten +Of the whole dungy Earth. + +LEONTES What? Lack I credit? + +LORD +I had rather you did lack than I, my lord, +Upon this ground. And more it would content me +To have her honor true than your suspicion, +Be blamed for 't how you might. + +LEONTES Why, what need we +Commune with you of this, but rather follow +Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative +Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness +Imparts this, which if you--or stupefied +Or seeming so in skill--cannot or will not +Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves +We need no more of your advice. The matter, +The loss, the gain, the ord'ring on 't is all +Properly ours. + +ANTIGONUS And I wish, my liege, +You had only in your silent judgment tried it, +Without more overture. + +LEONTES How could that be? +Either thou art most ignorant by age, +Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight, +Added to their familiarity-- +Which was as gross as ever touched conjecture, +That lacked sight only, naught for approbation +But only seeing, all other circumstances +Made up to th' deed--doth push on this +proceeding. +Yet, for a greater confirmation-- +For in an act of this importance 'twere +Most piteous to be wild--I have dispatched in post +To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple, +Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know +Of stuffed sufficiency. Now from the oracle +They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had +Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well? + +LORD Well done, +my lord. + +LEONTES +Though I am satisfied and need no more +Than what I know, yet shall the oracle +Give rest to th' minds of others, such as he +Whose ignorant credulity will not +Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good +From our free person she should be confined, +Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence +Be left her to perform. Come, follow us. +We are to speak in public, for this business +Will raise us all. + +ANTIGONUS, [aside] To laughter, as I take it, +If the good truth were known. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Paulina's Attendants.] + + +PAULINA, [to Gentleman] +The keeper of the prison, call to him. +Let him have knowledge who I am. +[Gentleman exits.] +Good lady, +No court in Europe is too good for thee. +What dost thou then in prison? + +[Enter Jailer, with the Gentleman.] + +Now, good sir, +You know me, do you not? + +JAILER For a worthy lady +And one who much I honor. + +PAULINA Pray you then, +Conduct me to the Queen. + +JAILER I may not, madam. +To the contrary I have express commandment. + +PAULINA +Here's ado, to lock up honesty and honor from +Th' access of gentle visitors. Is 't lawful, pray you, +To see her women? Any of them? Emilia? + +JAILER So please you, madam, +To put apart these your attendants, I +Shall bring Emilia forth. + +PAULINA I pray now, call her.-- +Withdraw yourselves. +[Attendants and Gentleman exit.] + +JAILER +And, madam, I must be present at your conference. + +PAULINA Well, be 't so, prithee. [Jailer exits.] +Here's such ado to make no stain a stain +As passes coloring. + +[Enter Emilia with Jailer.] + +Dear gentlewoman, +How fares our gracious lady? + +EMILIA +As well as one so great and so forlorn +May hold together. On her frights and griefs, +Which never tender lady hath borne greater, +She is something before her time delivered. + +PAULINA +A boy? + +EMILIA A daughter, and a goodly babe, +Lusty and like to live. The Queen receives +Much comfort in 't, says "My poor prisoner, +I am innocent as you." + +PAULINA I dare be sworn. +These dangerous unsafe lunes i' th' King, beshrew +them! +He must be told on 't, and he shall. The office +Becomes a woman best. I'll take 't upon me. +If I prove honey-mouthed, let my tongue blister +And never to my red-looked anger be +The trumpet anymore. Pray you, Emilia, +Commend my best obedience to the Queen. +If she dares trust me with her little babe, +I'll show 't the King and undertake to be +Her advocate to th' loud'st We do not know +How he may soften at the sight o' th' child. +The silence often of pure innocence +Persuades when speaking fails. + +EMILIA Most worthy madam, +Your honor and your goodness is so evident +That your free undertaking cannot miss +A thriving issue. There is no lady living +So meet for this great errand. Please your Ladyship +To visit the next room, I'll presently +Acquaint the Queen of your most noble offer, +Who but today hammered of this design, +But durst not tempt a minister of honor +Lest she should be denied. + +PAULINA Tell her, Emilia, +I'll use that tongue I have. If wit flow from 't +As boldness from my bosom, let 't not be doubted +I shall do good. + +EMILIA Now be you blest for it! +I'll to the Queen. Please you come something +nearer. + +JAILER, [to Paulina] +Madam, if 't please the Queen to send the babe, +I know not what I shall incur to pass it, +Having no warrant. + +PAULINA You need not fear it, sir. +This child was prisoner to the womb, and is +By law and process of great nature thence +Freed and enfranchised, not a party to +The anger of the King, nor guilty of, +If any be, the trespass of the Queen. + +JAILER I do believe it. + +PAULINA +Do not you fear. Upon mine honor, I +Will stand betwixt you and danger. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Leontes.] + + +LEONTES +Nor night nor day no rest. It is but weakness +To bear the matter thus, mere weakness. If +The cause were not in being--part o' th' cause, +She th' adult'ress, for the harlot king +Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank +And level of my brain, plot-proof. But she +I can hook to me. Say that she were gone, +Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest +Might come to me again.--Who's there? + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT My lord. + +LEONTES How does the boy? + +SERVANT He took good rest tonight. 'Tis hoped +His sickness is discharged. + +LEONTES To see his nobleness, +Conceiving the dishonor of his mother. +He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply, +Fastened and fixed the shame on 't in himself, +Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, +And downright languished. Leave me solely. Go, +See how he fares. [Servant exits.] +Fie, fie, no thought of him. +The very thought of my revenges that way +Recoil upon me--in himself too mighty, +And in his parties, his alliance. Let him be +Until a time may serve. For present vengeance, +Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes +Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow. +They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor +Shall she within my power. + +[Enter Paulina, carrying the baby, with Servants, +Antigonus, and Lords.] + + +LORD You must not enter. + +PAULINA +Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me. +Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, +Than the Queen's life? A gracious innocent soul, +More free than he is jealous. + +ANTIGONUS That's enough. + +SERVANT +Madam, he hath not slept tonight, commanded +None should come at him. + +PAULINA Not so hot, good sir. +I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you +That creep like shadows by him and do sigh +At each his needless heavings, such as you +Nourish the cause of his awaking. I +Do come with words as medicinal as true, +Honest as either, to purge him of that humor +That presses him from sleep. + +LEONTES What noise there, ho? + +PAULINA +No noise, my lord, but needful conference +About some gossips for your Highness. + +LEONTES How?-- +Away with that audacious lady. Antigonus, +I charged thee that she should not come about me. +I knew she would. + +ANTIGONUS I told her so, my lord, +On your displeasure's peril and on mine, +She should not visit you. + +LEONTES What, canst not rule her? + +PAULINA +From all dishonesty he can. In this, +Unless he take the course that you have done-- +Commit me for committing honor--trust it, +He shall not rule me. + +ANTIGONUS La you now, you hear. +When she will take the rein I let her run, +But she'll not stumble. + +PAULINA Good my liege, I come-- +And I beseech you hear me, who professes +Myself your loyal servant, your physician, +Your most obedient counselor, yet that dares +Less appear so in comforting your evils +Than such as most seem yours--I say I come +From your good queen. + +LEONTES Good queen? + +PAULINA +Good queen, my lord, good queen, I say "good +queen," +And would by combat make her good, so were I +A man, the worst about you. + +LEONTES Force her hence. + +PAULINA +Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes +First hand me. On mine own accord I'll off, +But first I'll do my errand.--The good queen, +For she is good, hath brought you forth a +daughter-- +Here 'tis--commends it to your blessing. +[She lays down the baby.] + +LEONTES Out! +A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door. +A most intelligencing bawd. + +PAULINA Not so. +I am as ignorant in that as you +In so entitling me, and no less honest +Than you are mad--which is enough, I'll warrant, +As this world goes, to pass for honest. + +LEONTES Traitors, +Will you not push her out? [To Antigonus.] Give her +the bastard, +Thou dotard; thou art woman-tired, unroosted +By thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard, +Take 't up, I say. Give 't to thy crone. + +PAULINA, [to Antigonus] Forever +Unvenerable be thy hands if thou +Tak'st up the Princess by that forced baseness +Which he has put upon 't. + +LEONTES He dreads his wife. + +PAULINA +So I would you did. Then 'twere past all doubt +You'd call your children yours. + +LEONTES A nest of traitors! + +ANTIGONUS +I am none, by this good light. + +PAULINA Nor I, nor any +But one that's here, and that's himself. For he +The sacred honor of himself, his queen's, +His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander, +Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will +not-- +For, as the case now stands, it is a curse +He cannot be compelled to 't--once remove +The root of his opinion, which is rotten +As ever oak or stone was sound. + +LEONTES A callet +Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her +husband +And now baits me! This brat is none of mine. +It is the issue of Polixenes. +Hence with it, and together with the dam +Commit them to the fire. + +PAULINA It is yours, +And, might we lay th' old proverb to your charge, +So like you 'tis the worse.--Behold, my lords, +Although the print be little, the whole matter +And copy of the father--eye, nose, lip, +The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, +The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, his +smiles, +The very mold and frame of hand, nail, finger. +And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it +So like to him that got it, if thou hast +The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colors +No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does, +Her children not her husband's. + +LEONTES A gross hag!-- +And, losel, thou art worthy to be hanged +That wilt not stay her tongue. + +ANTIGONUS Hang all the husbands +That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself +Hardly one subject. + +LEONTES Once more, take her hence. + +PAULINA +A most unworthy and unnatural lord +Can do no more. + +LEONTES I'll ha' thee burnt. + +PAULINA I care not. +It is an heretic that makes the fire, +Not she which burns in 't. I'll not call you tyrant; +But this most cruel usage of your queen, +Not able to produce more accusation +Than your own weak-hinged fancy, something +savors +Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you, +Yea, scandalous to the world. + +LEONTES, [to Antigonus] On your allegiance, +Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant, +Where were her life? She durst not call me so +If she did know me one. Away with her! + +PAULINA, [to Lords] +I pray you do not push me; I'll be gone.-- +Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours. Jove send her +A better guiding spirit.--What needs these hands? +You that are thus so tender o'er his follies +Will never do him good, not one of you. +So, so. Farewell, we are gone. [She exits.] + +LEONTES, [to Antigonus] +Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this. +My child? Away with 't! Even thou, that hast +A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence, +And see it instantly consumed with fire. +Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight. +Within this hour bring me word 'tis done, +And by good testimony, or I'll seize thy life, +With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse +And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so. +The bastard brains with these my proper hands +Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire, +For thou sett'st on thy wife. + +ANTIGONUS I did not, sir. +These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, +Can clear me in 't. + +LORDS We can, my royal liege. +He is not guilty of her coming hither. + +LEONTES You're liars all. + +LORD +Beseech your Highness, give us better credit. +We have always truly served you, and beseech +So to esteem of us. And on our knees we beg, +As recompense of our dear services +Past and to come, that you do change this purpose, +Which being so horrible, so bloody, must +Lead on to some foul issue. We all kneel. + +LEONTES +I am a feather for each wind that blows. +Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel +And call me father? Better burn it now +Than curse it then. But be it; let it live. +It shall not neither. [To Antigonus.] You, sir, come +you hither, +You that have been so tenderly officious +With Lady Margery, your midwife there, +To save this bastard's life--for 'tis a bastard, +So sure as this beard's gray. What will you +adventure +To save this brat's life? + +ANTIGONUS Anything, my lord, +That my ability may undergo +And nobleness impose. At least thus much: +I'll pawn the little blood which I have left +To save the innocent. Anything possible. + +LEONTES +It shall be possible. Swear by this sword +Thou wilt perform my bidding. + +ANTIGONUS, [his hand on the hilt] I will, my lord. + +LEONTES +Mark, and perform it, seest thou; for the fail +Of any point in 't shall not only be +Death to thyself but to thy lewd-tongued wife, +Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee, +As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry +This female bastard hence, and that thou bear it +To some remote and desert place quite out +Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it, +Without more mercy, to it own protection +And favor of the climate. As by strange fortune +It came to us, I do in justice charge thee, +On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture, +That thou commend it strangely to some place +Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up. + +ANTIGONUS +I swear to do this, though a present death +Had been more merciful.--Come on, poor babe. +[He picks up the baby.] +Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens +To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say, +Casting their savageness aside, have done +Like offices of pity. [To Leontes.] Sir, be prosperous +In more than this deed does require.--And blessing +Against this cruelty fight on thy side, +Poor thing, condemned to loss. +[He exits, carrying the baby.] + +LEONTES No, I'll not rear +Another's issue. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT Please your Highness, posts +From those you sent to th' oracle are come +An hour since. Cleomenes and Dion, +Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed, +Hasting to th' court. + +LORD, [to Leontes] So please you, sir, their speed +Hath been beyond account. + +LEONTES Twenty-three days +They have been absent. 'Tis good speed, foretells +The great Apollo suddenly will have +The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords. +Summon a session, that we may arraign +Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath +Been publicly accused, so shall she have +A just and open trial. While she lives, +My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me, +And think upon my bidding. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Cleomenes and Dion.] + + +CLEOMENES +The climate's delicate, the air most sweet, +Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing +The common praise it bears. + +DION I shall report, +For most it caught me, the celestial habits-- +Methinks I so should term them--and the reverence +Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice, +How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly +It was i' th' off'ring! + +CLEOMENES But of all, the burst +And the ear-deaf'ning voice o' th' oracle, +Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense +That I was nothing. + +DION If th' event o' th' journey +Prove as successful to the Queen--O, be 't so!-- +As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy, +The time is worth the use on 't. + +CLEOMENES Great Apollo +Turn all to th' best! These proclamations, +So forcing faults upon Hermione, +I little like. + +DION The violent carriage of it +Will clear or end the business when the oracle, +Thus by Apollo's great divine sealed up, +Shall the contents discover. Something rare +Even then will rush to knowledge. Go. Fresh horses; +And gracious be the issue. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers.] + + +LEONTES +This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce, +Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried +The daughter of a king, our wife, and one +Of us too much beloved. Let us be cleared +Of being tyrannous, since we so openly +Proceed in justice, which shall have due course +Even to the guilt or the purgation. +Produce the prisoner. + +OFFICER +It is his Highness' pleasure that the Queen +Appear in person here in court. + +[Enter Hermione, as to her trial, Paulina, and Ladies.] + +Silence! + +LEONTES Read the indictment. + +OFFICER [reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, +King of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned +of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, +King of Bohemia, and conspiring with Camillo +to take away the life of our sovereign lord the King, thy +royal husband; the pretense whereof being by circumstances +partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to +the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst counsel +and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by +night. + +HERMIONE +Since what I am to say must be but that +Which contradicts my accusation, and +The testimony on my part no other +But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me +To say "Not guilty." Mine integrity, +Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, +Be so received. But thus: if powers divine +Behold our human actions, as they do, +I doubt not then but innocence shall make +False accusation blush and tyranny +Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know, +Whom least will seem to do so, my past life +Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, +As I am now unhappy; which is more +Than history can pattern, though devised +And played to take spectators. For behold me, +A fellow of the royal bed, which owe +A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, +The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing +To prate and talk for life and honor fore +Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it +As I weigh grief, which I would spare. For honor, +'Tis a derivative from me to mine, +And only that I stand for. I appeal +To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes +Came to your court, how I was in your grace, +How merited to be so; since he came, +With what encounter so uncurrent I +Have strained t' appear thus; if one jot beyond +The bound of honor, or in act or will +That way inclining, hardened be the hearts +Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin +Cry fie upon my grave. + +LEONTES I ne'er heard yet +That any of these bolder vices wanted +Less impudence to gainsay what they did +Than to perform it first. + +HERMIONE That's true enough, +Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me. + +LEONTES +You will not own it. + +HERMIONE More than mistress of +Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not +At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, +With whom I am accused, I do confess +I loved him as in honor he required, +With such a kind of love as might become +A lady like me, with a love even such, +So and no other, as yourself commanded, +Which not to have done, I think, had been in me +Both disobedience and ingratitude +To you and toward your friend, whose love had +spoke, +Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely +That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, +I know not how it tastes, though it be dished +For me to try how. All I know of it +Is that Camillo was an honest man; +And why he left your court, the gods themselves, +Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. + +LEONTES +You knew of his departure, as you know +What you have underta'en to do in 's absence. + +HERMIONE Sir, +You speak a language that I understand not. +My life stands in the level of your dreams, +Which I'll lay down. + +LEONTES Your actions are my dreams. +You had a bastard by Polixenes, +And I but dreamed it. As you were past all shame-- +Those of your fact are so--so past all truth, +Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as +Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, +No father owning it--which is indeed +More criminal in thee than it--so thou +Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage +Look for no less than death. + +HERMIONE Sir, spare your threats. +The bug which you would fright me with I seek. +To me can life be no commodity. +The crown and comfort of my life, your favor, +I do give lost, for I do feel it gone, +But know not how it went. My second joy +And first fruits of my body, from his presence +I am barred like one infectious. My third comfort, +Starred most unluckily, is from my breast, +The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth, +Haled out to murder; myself on every post +Proclaimed a strumpet; with immodest hatred +The childbed privilege denied, which longs +To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried +Here to this place, i' th' open air, before +I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, +Tell me what blessings I have here alive, +That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed. +But yet hear this (mistake me not: no life, +I prize it not a straw, but for mine honor, +Which I would free), if I shall be condemned +Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else +But what your jealousies awake, I tell you +'Tis rigor, and not law. Your Honors all, +I do refer me to the oracle. +Apollo be my judge. + +LORD This your request +Is altogether just. Therefore bring forth, +And in Apollo's name, his oracle. [Officers exit.] + +HERMIONE +The Emperor of Russia was my father. +O, that he were alive and here beholding +His daughter's trial, that he did but see +The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes +Of pity, not revenge. + +[Enter Cleomenes, Dion, with Officers.] + + +OFFICER, [presenting a sword] +You here shall swear upon this sword of justice +That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have +Been both at Delphos, and from thence have +brought +This sealed-up oracle, by the hand delivered +Of great Apollo's priest, and that since then +You have not dared to break the holy seal +Nor read the secrets in 't. + +CLEOMENES, DION All this we swear. + +LEONTES Break up the seals and read. + +OFFICER [reads] Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless, +Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, +his innocent babe truly begotten; and the King shall +live without an heir if that which is lost be not +found. + +LORDS +Now blessed be the great Apollo! + +HERMIONE Praised! + +LEONTES Hast thou read truth? + +OFFICER +Ay, my lord, even so as it is here set down. + +LEONTES +There is no truth at all i' th' oracle. +The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT +My lord the King, the King! + +LEONTES What is the business? + +SERVANT +O sir, I shall be hated to report it. +The Prince your son, with mere conceit and fear +Of the Queen's speed, is gone. + +LEONTES How? Gone? + +SERVANT Is dead. + +LEONTES +Apollo's angry, and the heavens themselves +Do strike at my injustice. +[Hermione falls.] +How now there? + +PAULINA +This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down +And see what death is doing. + +LEONTES Take her hence. +Her heart is but o'ercharged. She will recover. +I have too much believed mine own suspicion. +Beseech you, tenderly apply to her +Some remedies for life. + +[Paulina exits with Officers carrying Hermione.] + +Apollo, pardon +My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle. +I'll reconcile me to Polixenes, +New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo, +Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy; +For, being transported by my jealousies +To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose +Camillo for the minister to poison +My friend Polixenes, which had been done +But that the good mind of Camillo tardied +My swift command, though I with death and with +Reward did threaten and encourage him, +Not doing it and being done. He, most humane +And filled with honor, to my kingly guest +Unclasped my practice, quit his fortunes here, +Which you knew great, and to the hazard +Of all incertainties himself commended, +No richer than his honor. How he glisters +Through my rust, and how his piety +Does my deeds make the blacker! + +[Enter Paulina.] + + +PAULINA Woe the while! +O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, +Break too! + +LORD What fit is this, good lady? + +PAULINA, [to Leontes] +What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? +What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying? Boiling +In leads or oils? What old or newer torture +Must I receive, whose every word deserves +To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, +Together working with thy jealousies, +Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle +For girls of nine, O, think what they have done, +And then run mad indeed, stark mad, for all +Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it. +That thou betrayedst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; +That did but show thee of a fool, inconstant +And damnable ingrateful. Nor was 't much +Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo's honor, +To have him kill a king: poor trespasses, +More monstrous standing by, whereof I reckon +The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter +To be or none or little, though a devil +Would have shed water out of fire ere done 't. +Nor is 't directly laid to thee the death +Of the young prince, whose honorable thoughts, +Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart +That could conceive a gross and foolish sire +Blemished his gracious dam. This is not, no, +Laid to thy answer. But the last--O lords, +When I have said, cry woe!--the Queen, the Queen, +The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, and vengeance +for 't +Not dropped down yet. + +LORD The higher powers forbid! + +PAULINA +I say she's dead. I'll swear 't. If word nor oath +Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring +Tincture or luster in her lip, her eye, +Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you +As I would do the gods.--But, O thou tyrant, +Do not repent these things, for they are heavier +Than all thy woes can stir. Therefore betake thee +To nothing but despair. A thousand knees +Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, +Upon a barren mountain, and still winter +In storm perpetual, could not move the gods +To look that way thou wert. + +LEONTES Go on, go on. +Thou canst not speak too much. I have deserved +All tongues to talk their bitt'rest. + +LORD, [to Paulina] Say no more. +Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault +I' th' boldness of your speech. + +PAULINA I am sorry for 't. +All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, +I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much +The rashness of a woman. He is touched +To th' noble heart.--What's gone and what's past +help +Should be past grief. Do not receive affliction +At my petition. I beseech you, rather +Let me be punished, that have minded you +Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, +Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman. +The love I bore your queen--lo, fool again!-- +I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children. +I'll not remember you of my own lord, +Who is lost too. Take your patience to you, +And I'll say nothing. + +LEONTES Thou didst speak but well +When most the truth, which I receive much better +Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me +To the dead bodies of my queen and son. +One grave shall be for both. Upon them shall +The causes of their death appear, unto +Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit +The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there +Shall be my recreation. So long as nature +Will bear up with this exercise, so long +I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me +To these sorrows. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Antigonus carrying the babe, and a Mariner.] + + +ANTIGONUS +Thou art perfect, then, our ship hath touched upon +The deserts of Bohemia? + +MARINER Ay, my lord, and fear +We have landed in ill time. The skies look grimly +And threaten present blusters. In my conscience, +The heavens with that we have in hand are angry +And frown upon 's. + +ANTIGONUS +Their sacred wills be done. Go, get aboard. +Look to thy bark. I'll not be long before +I call upon thee. + +MARINER Make your best haste, and go not +Too far i' th' land. 'Tis like to be loud weather. +Besides, this place is famous for the creatures +Of prey that keep upon 't. + +ANTIGONUS Go thou away. +I'll follow instantly. + +MARINER I am glad at heart +To be so rid o' th' business. [He exits.] + +ANTIGONUS Come, poor babe. +I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' th' dead +May walk again. If such thing be, thy mother +Appeared to me last night, for ne'er was dream +So like a waking. To me comes a creature, +Sometimes her head on one side, some another. +I never saw a vessel of like sorrow, +So filled and so becoming. In pure white robes, +Like very sanctity, she did approach +My cabin where I lay, thrice bowed before me, +And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes +Became two spouts. The fury spent, anon +Did this break from her: "Good Antigonus, +Since fate, against thy better disposition, +Hath made thy person for the thrower-out +Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, +Places remote enough are in Bohemia. +There weep, and leave it crying. And, for the babe +Is counted lost forever, Perdita +I prithee call 't. For this ungentle business +Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see +Thy wife Paulina more." And so, with shrieks, +She melted into air. Affrighted much, +I did in time collect myself and thought +This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys, +Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, +I will be squared by this. I do believe +Hermione hath suffered death, and that +Apollo would, this being indeed the issue +Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, +Either for life or death, upon the earth +Of its right father.--Blossom, speed thee well. +There lie, and there thy character; there these, +[He lays down the baby, a bundle, and a box.] +Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty, +And still rest thine. [Thunder.] The storm begins. +Poor wretch, +That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed +To loss and what may follow. Weep I cannot, +But my heart bleeds, and most accurst am I +To be by oath enjoined to this. Farewell. +The day frowns more and more. Thou 'rt like to have +A lullaby too rough. I never saw +The heavens so dim by day. +[Thunder, and sounds of hunting.] +A savage clamor! +Well may I get aboard! This is the chase. +I am gone forever! [He exits, pursued by a bear.] + +[Enter Shepherd.] + + +SHEPHERD I would there were no age between ten and +three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the +rest, for there is nothing in the between but getting +wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, +fighting--Hark you now. Would any but these +boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt +this weather? They have scared away two of my best +sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than +the master. If anywhere I have them, 'tis by the +seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an 't be thy will, +what have we here? Mercy on 's, a bairn! A very +pretty bairn. A boy or a child, I wonder? A pretty +one, a very pretty one. Sure some scape. Though I +am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman +in the scape. This has been some stair-work, +some trunk-work, some behind-door work. They +were warmer that got this than the poor thing is +here. I'll take it up for pity. Yet I'll tarry till my son +come. He halloed but even now.--Whoa-ho-ho! + +[Enter Shepherd's Son.] + + +SHEPHERD'S SON Hilloa, loa! + +SHEPHERD What, art so near? If thou 'lt see a thing to +talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. +What ail'st thou, man? + +SHEPHERD'S SON I have seen two such sights, by sea +and by land--but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is +now the sky; betwixt the firmament and it, you +cannot thrust a bodkin's point. + +SHEPHERD Why, boy, how is it? + +SHEPHERD'S SON I would you did but see how it chafes, +how it rages, how it takes up the shore. But that's +not to the point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor +souls! Sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em. +Now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, +and anon swallowed with yeast and froth, as you'd +thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land +service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone, +how he cried to me for help, and said his +name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an +end of the ship: to see how the sea flap-dragoned it. +But, first, how the poor souls roared and the sea +mocked them, and how the poor gentleman roared +and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than +the sea or weather. + +SHEPHERD Name of mercy, when was this, boy? + +SHEPHERD'S SON Now, now. I have not winked since I +saw these sights. The men are not yet cold under +water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman. +He's at it now. + +SHEPHERD Would I had been by to have helped the old +man. + +SHEPHERD'S SON I would you had been by the ship side, +to have helped her. There your charity would have +lacked footing. + +SHEPHERD Heavy matters, heavy matters. But look +thee here, boy. Now bless thyself. Thou met'st with +things dying, I with things newborn. Here's a sight +for thee. Look thee, a bearing cloth for a squire's +child. Look thee here. Take up, take up, boy. Open +'t. So, let's see. It was told me I should be rich by +the fairies. This is some changeling. Open 't. What's +within, boy? + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [opening the box] You're a made old +man. If the sins of your youth are forgiven you, +you're well to live. Gold, all gold. + +SHEPHERD This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so. +Up with 't, keep it close. Home, home, the next way. +We are lucky, boy, and to be so still requires +nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go. Come, good +boy, the next way home. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Go you the next way with your +findings. I'll go see if the bear be gone from the +gentleman and how much he hath eaten. They are +never curst but when they are hungry. If there be +any of him left, I'll bury it. + +SHEPHERD That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern +by that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to +th' sight of him. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Marry, will I, and you shall help to +put him i' th' ground. + +SHEPHERD 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good +deeds on 't. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Time, the Chorus.] + + +TIME +I, that please some, try all--both joy and terror +Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error-- +Now take upon me, in the name of Time, +To use my wings. Impute it not a crime +To me or my swift passage that I slide +O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried +Of that wide gap, since it is in my power +To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour +To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass +The same I am ere ancient'st order was +Or what is now received. I witness to +The times that brought them in. So shall I do +To th' freshest things now reigning, and make stale +The glistering of this present, as my tale +Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing, +I turn my glass and give my scene such growing +As you had slept between. Leontes leaving, +Th' effects of his fond jealousies so grieving +That he shuts up himself, imagine me, +Gentle spectators, that I now may be +In fair Bohemia. And remember well +I mentioned a son o' th' King's, which Florizell +I now name to you, and with speed so pace +To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace +Equal with wond'ring. What of her ensues +I list not prophesy; but let Time's news +Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's +daughter +And what to her adheres, which follows after, +Is th' argument of Time. Of this allow, +If ever you have spent time worse ere now. +If never, yet that Time himself doth say +He wishes earnestly you never may. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Polixenes and Camillo.] + + +POLIXENES I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more +importunate. 'Tis a sickness denying thee anything, +a death to grant this. + +CAMILLO It is fifteen years since I saw my country. +Though I have for the most part been aired abroad, +I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent +king, my master, hath sent for me, to whose feeling +sorrows I might be some allay--or I o'erween to +think so--which is another spur to my departure. + +POLIXENES As thou lov'st me, Camillo, wipe not out the +rest of thy services by leaving me now. The need I +have of thee thine own goodness hath made. Better +not to have had thee than thus to want thee. Thou, +having made me businesses which none without +thee can sufficiently manage, must either stay to +execute them thyself or take away with thee the very +services thou hast done, which if I have not enough +considered, as too much I cannot, to be more +thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit +therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country +Sicilia, prithee speak no more, whose very +naming punishes me with the remembrance of that +penitent, as thou call'st him, and reconciled king +my brother, whose loss of his most precious queen +and children are even now to be afresh lamented. +Say to me, when sawst thou the Prince Florizell, my +son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not +being gracious, than they are in losing them when +they have approved their virtues. + +CAMILLO Sir, it is three days since I saw the Prince. +What his happier affairs may be are to me unknown, +but I have missingly noted he is of late +much retired from court and is less frequent to his +princely exercises than formerly he hath appeared. + +POLIXENES I have considered so much, Camillo, and +with some care, so far that I have eyes under my +service which look upon his removedness, from +whom I have this intelligence: that he is seldom +from the house of a most homely shepherd, a man, +they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the +imagination of his neighbors, is grown into an +unspeakable estate. + +CAMILLO I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a +daughter of most rare note. The report of her is +extended more than can be thought to begin from +such a cottage. + +POLIXENES That's likewise part of my intelligence, but, +I fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou +shalt accompany us to the place, where we will, not +appearing what we are, have some question with +the shepherd, from whose simplicity I think it not +uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. +Prithee be my present partner in this business, and +lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. + +CAMILLO I willingly obey your command. + +POLIXENES My best Camillo. We must disguise +ourselves. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Autolycus singing.] + + +AUTOLYCUS + When daffodils begin to peer, + With heigh, the doxy over the dale, + Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year, + For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. + + The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, + With heigh, the sweet birds, O how they sing! + Doth set my pugging tooth an edge, + For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. + + The lark, that tirralirra chants, + With heigh, with heigh, the thrush and the jay, + Are summer songs for me and my aunts, + While we lie tumbling in the hay. + +I have served Prince Florizell and in my time wore +three-pile, but now I am out of service. + + But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? + The pale moon shines by night, + And when I wander here and there, + I then do most go right. + + If tinkers may have leave to live, + And bear the sow-skin budget, + Then my account I well may give, + And in the stocks avouch it. + +My traffic is sheets. When the kite builds, look to +lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus, who, +being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise +a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and +drab I purchased this caparison, and my revenue is +the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful +on the highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to +me. For the life to come, I sleep out the thought of +it. A prize, a prize! + +[Enter Shepherd's Son.] + + +SHEPHERD'S SON Let me see, every 'leven wether tods, +every tod yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen +hundred shorn, what comes the wool to? + +AUTOLYCUS, [aside] If the springe hold, the cock's +mine. [He lies down.] + +SHEPHERD'S SON I cannot do 't without counters. Let +me see, what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing +feast? [(He reads a paper.)] Three pound of sugar, +five pound of currants, rice--what will this sister of +mine do with rice? But my father hath made her +mistress of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath +made me four-and-twenty nosegays for the shearers, +three-man song men all, and very good ones; +but they are most of them means and basses, but +one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to +hornpipes. I must have saffron to color the warden +pies; mace; dates, none, that's out of my note; +nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I +may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of +raisins o' th' sun. + +AUTOLYCUS, [writhing as if in pain] O, that ever I was +born! + +SHEPHERD'S SON I' th' name of me! + +AUTOLYCUS O, help me, help me! Pluck but off these +rags, and then death, death. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Alack, poor soul, thou hast need of +more rags to lay on thee rather than have these off. + +AUTOLYCUS O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends +me more than the stripes I have received, which are +mighty ones and millions. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Alas, poor man, a million of beating +may come to a great matter. + +AUTOLYCUS I am robbed, sir, and beaten, my money +and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable +things put upon me. + +SHEPHERD'S SON What, by a horseman, or a footman? + +AUTOLYCUS A footman, sweet sir, a footman. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Indeed, he should be a footman by +the garments he has left with thee. If this be a +horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend +me thy hand; I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy +hand. + +AUTOLYCUS O, good sir, tenderly, O! + +SHEPHERD'S SON Alas, poor soul. + +AUTOLYCUS O, good sir, softly, good sir. I fear, sir, my +shoulder blade is out. + +SHEPHERD'S SON How now? Canst stand? + +AUTOLYCUS, [stealing the Shepherd's Son's purse] Softly, +dear sir, good sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable +office. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Dost lack any money? I have a little +money for thee. + +AUTOLYCUS No, good sweet sir, no, I beseech you, sir. I +have a kinsman not past three-quarters of a mile +hence, unto whom I was going. I shall there have +money or anything I want. Offer me no money, I +pray you; that kills my heart. + +SHEPHERD'S SON What manner of fellow was he that +robbed you? + +AUTOLYCUS A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about +with troll-my-dames. I knew him once a servant of +the Prince. I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his +virtues it was, but he was certainly whipped out of +the court. + +SHEPHERD'S SON His vices, you would say. There's no +virtue whipped out of the court. They cherish it to +make it stay there, and yet it will no more but abide. + +AUTOLYCUS Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man +well. He hath been since an ape-bearer, then a +process-server, a bailiff. Then he compassed a motion +of the Prodigal Son, and married a tinker's wife +within a mile where my land and living lies, and, +having flown over many knavish professions, he +settled only in rogue. Some call him Autolycus. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Out upon him! Prig, for my life, prig! +He haunts wakes, fairs, and bearbaitings. + +AUTOLYCUS Very true, sir: he, sir, he. That's the rogue +that put me into this apparel. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Not a more cowardly rogue in all +Bohemia. If you had but looked big and spit at him, +he'd have run. + +AUTOLYCUS I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter. I +am false of heart that way, and that he knew, I +warrant him. + +SHEPHERD'S SON How do you now? + +AUTOLYCUS Sweet sir, much better than I was. I can +stand and walk. I will even take my leave of you and +pace softly towards my kinsman's. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Shall I bring thee on the way? + +AUTOLYCUS No, good-faced sir, no, sweet sir. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Then fare thee well. I must go buy +spices for our sheep-shearing. + +AUTOLYCUS Prosper you, sweet sir. +[Shepherd's Son exits.] +Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your +spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too. If +I make not this cheat bring out another, and the +shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled and my +name put in the book of virtue. +[Sings.] Jog on, jog on, the footpath way, + And merrily hent the stile-a. + A merry heart goes all the day, + Your sad tires in a mile-a. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Florizell and Perdita.] + + +FLORIZELL +These your unusual weeds to each part of you +Does give a life--no shepherdess, but Flora +Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing +Is as a meeting of the petty gods, +And you the queen on 't. + +PERDITA Sir, my gracious lord, +To chide at your extremes it not becomes me; +O, pardon that I name them! Your high self, +The gracious mark o' th' land, you have obscured +With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid, +Most goddesslike pranked up. But that our feasts +In every mess have folly, and the feeders +Digest it with a custom, I should blush +To see you so attired, swoon, I think, +To show myself a glass. + +FLORIZELL I bless the time +When my good falcon made her flight across +Thy father's ground. + +PERDITA Now Jove afford you cause. +To me the difference forges dread. Your greatness +Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble +To think your father by some accident +Should pass this way as you did. O the Fates, +How would he look to see his work, so noble, +Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how +Should I, in these my borrowed flaunts, behold +The sternness of his presence? + +FLORIZELL Apprehend +Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, +Humbling their deities to love, have taken +The shapes of beasts upon them. Jupiter +Became a bull, and bellowed; the green Neptune +A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god, +Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, +As I seem now. Their transformations +Were never for a piece of beauty rarer, +Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires +Run not before mine honor, nor my lusts +Burn hotter than my faith. + +PERDITA O, but sir, +Your resolution cannot hold when 'tis +Opposed, as it must be, by th' power of the King. +One of these two must be necessities, +Which then will speak: that you must change this +purpose +Or I my life. + +FLORIZELL Thou dear'st Perdita, +With these forced thoughts I prithee darken not +The mirth o' th' feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair, +Or not my father's. For I cannot be +Mine own, nor anything to any, if +I be not thine. To this I am most constant, +Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle. +Strangle such thoughts as these with anything +That you behold the while. Your guests are coming. +Lift up your countenance as it were the day +Of celebration of that nuptial which +We two have sworn shall come. + +PERDITA O Lady Fortune, +Stand you auspicious! + +FLORIZELL See, your guests approach. +Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, +And let's be red with mirth. + +[Enter Shepherd, Shepherd's Son, Mopsa, Dorcas, +Shepherds and Shepherdesses, Servants, Musicians, +and Polixenes and Camillo in disguise.] + + +SHEPHERD +Fie, daughter, when my old wife lived, upon +This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, +Both dame and servant; welcomed all; served all; +Would sing her song and dance her turn, now here +At upper end o' th' table, now i' th' middle; +On his shoulder, and his; her face afire +With labor, and the thing she took to quench it +She would to each one sip. You are retired +As if you were a feasted one and not +The hostess of the meeting. Pray you bid +These unknown friends to 's welcome, for it is +A way to make us better friends, more known. +Come, quench your blushes and present yourself +That which you are, mistress o' th' feast. Come on, +And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, +As your good flock shall prosper. + +PERDITA, [to Polixenes] Sir, welcome. +It is my father's will I should take on me +The hostess-ship o' th' day. [To Camillo.] You're +welcome, sir.-- +Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.--Reverend +sirs, +For you there's rosemary and rue. These keep +Seeming and savor all the winter long. +Grace and remembrance be to you both, +And welcome to our shearing. + +POLIXENES Shepherdess-- +A fair one are you--well you fit our ages +With flowers of winter. + +PERDITA Sir, the year growing ancient, +Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth +Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season +Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, +Which some call nature's bastards. Of that kind +Our rustic garden's barren, and I care not +To get slips of them. + +POLIXENES Wherefore, gentle maiden, +Do you neglect them? + +PERDITA For I have heard it said +There is an art which in their piedness shares +With great creating nature. + +POLIXENES Say there be; +Yet nature is made better by no mean +But nature makes that mean. So, over that art +Which you say adds to nature is an art +That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry +A gentler scion to the wildest stock, +And make conceive a bark of baser kind +By bud of nobler race. This is an art +Which does mend nature, change it rather, but +The art itself is nature. + +PERDITA So it is. + +POLIXENES +Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, +And do not call them bastards. + +PERDITA I'll not put +The dibble in earth to set one slip of them, +No more than, were I painted, I would wish +This youth should say 'twere well, and only +therefore +Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you: +Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram, +The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun +And with him rises weeping. These are flowers +Of middle summer, and I think they are given +To men of middle age. You're very welcome. + +CAMILLO +I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, +And only live by gazing. + +PERDITA Out, alas! +You'd be so lean that blasts of January +Would blow you through and through. [(To +Florizell.)] Now, my fair'st friend, +I would I had some flowers o' th' spring, that might +Become your time of day, [(to the Shepherdesses)] +and yours, and yours, +That wear upon your virgin branches yet +Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina, +For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall +From Dis's wagon! Daffodils, +That come before the swallow dares, and take +The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, +But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes +Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, +That die unmarried ere they can behold +Bright Phoebus in his strength--a malady +Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and +The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, +The flower-de-luce being one--O, these I lack +To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend, +To strew him o'er and o'er. + +FLORIZELL What, like a corse? + +PERDITA +No, like a bank for love to lie and play on, +Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried, +But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your +flowers. +Methinks I play as I have seen them do +In Whitsun pastorals. Sure this robe of mine +Does change my disposition. + +FLORIZELL What you do +Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, +I'd have you do it ever. When you sing, +I'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, +Pray so; and for the ord'ring your affairs, +To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you +A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do +Nothing but that, move still, still so, +And own no other function. Each your doing, +So singular in each particular, +Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, +That all your acts are queens. + +PERDITA O Doricles, +Your praises are too large. But that your youth +And the true blood which peeps fairly through 't +Do plainly give you out an unstained shepherd, +With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, +You wooed me the false way. + +FLORIZELL I think you have +As little skill to fear as I have purpose +To put you to 't. But come, our dance, I pray. +Your hand, my Perdita. So turtles pair +That never mean to part. + +PERDITA I'll swear for 'em. + +POLIXENES, [to Camillo] +This is the prettiest lowborn lass that ever +Ran on the greensward. Nothing she does or seems +But smacks of something greater than herself, +Too noble for this place. + +CAMILLO He tells her something +That makes her blood look out. Good sooth, she is +The queen of curds and cream. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Musicians] Come on, strike up. + +DORCAS +Mopsa must be your mistress? Marry, garlic +To mend her kissing with. + +MOPSA Now, in good time! + +SHEPHERD'S SON +Not a word, a word. We stand upon our manners.-- +Come, strike up. [Music begins.] +[Here a Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.] + +POLIXENES +Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this +Which dances with your daughter? + +SHEPHERD +They call him Doricles, and boasts himself +To have a worthy feeding. But I have it +Upon his own report, and I believe it. +He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter. +I think so too, for never gazed the moon +Upon the water as he'll stand and read, +As 'twere, my daughter's eyes. And, to be plain, +I think there is not half a kiss to choose +Who loves another best. + +POLIXENES She dances featly. + +SHEPHERD +So she does anything, though I report it +That should be silent. If young Doricles +Do light upon her, she shall bring him that +Which he not dreams of. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT O, master, if you did but hear the peddler at +the door, you would never dance again after a tabor +and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you. He +sings several tunes faster than you'll tell money. He +utters them as he had eaten ballads and all men's +ears grew to his tunes. + +SHEPHERD'S SON He could never come better. He shall +come in. I love a ballad but even too well if it be +doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant +thing indeed and sung lamentably. + +SERVANT He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes. +No milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He +has the prettiest love songs for maids, so without +bawdry, which is strange, with such delicate burdens +of dildos and fadings, "Jump her and thump +her." And where some stretch-mouthed rascal +would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul +gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer +"Whoop, do me no harm, good man"; puts him off, +slights him, with "Whoop, do me no harm, good +man." + +POLIXENES This is a brave fellow. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable +conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided +wares? + +SERVANT He hath ribbons of all the colors i' th' rainbow; +points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia +can learnedly handle, though they come to him by +th' gross; inkles, caddises, cambrics, lawns--why, +he sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses. +You would think a smock were a she-angel, he so +chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about the +square on 't. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Prithee bring him in, and let him +approach singing. + +PERDITA Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words +in 's tunes. [Servant exits.] + +SHEPHERD'S SON You have of these peddlers that have +more in them than you'd think, sister. + +PERDITA Ay, good brother, or go about to think. + +[Enter Autolycus, wearing a false beard, singing.] + + +AUTOLYCUS + Lawn as white as driven snow, + Cypress black as e'er was crow, + Gloves as sweet as damask roses, + Masks for faces and for noses, + Bugle bracelet, necklace amber, + Perfume for a lady's chamber, + Golden coifs and stomachers + For my lads to give their dears, + Pins and poking-sticks of steel, + What maids lack from head to heel, + Come buy of me, come. Come buy, come buy. + Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry. + Come buy. + +SHEPHERD'S SON If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou +shouldst take no money of me; but being enthralled +as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain +ribbons and gloves. + +MOPSA I was promised them against the feast, but they +come not too late now. + +DORCAS He hath promised you more than that, or there +be liars. + +MOPSA He hath paid you all he promised you. Maybe +he has paid you more, which will shame you to give +him again. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Is there no manners left among +maids? Will they wear their plackets where they +should bear their faces? Is there not milking time, +when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle +of these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling +before all our guests? 'Tis well they are whisp'ring. +Clamor your tongues, and not a word more. + +MOPSA I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry +lace and a pair of sweet gloves. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Have I not told thee how I was cozened +by the way and lost all my money? + +AUTOLYCUS And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; +therefore it behooves men to be wary. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Fear not thou, man. Thou shalt lose +nothing here. + +AUTOLYCUS I hope so, sir, for I have about me many +parcels of charge. + +SHEPHERD'S SON What hast here? Ballads? + +MOPSA Pray now, buy some. I love a ballad in print +alife, for then we are sure they are true. + +AUTOLYCUS Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a +usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty moneybags +at a burden, and how she longed to eat adders' +heads and toads carbonadoed. + +MOPSA Is it true, think you? + +AUTOLYCUS Very true, and but a month old. + +DORCAS Bless me from marrying a usurer! + +AUTOLYCUS Here's the midwife's name to 't, one Mistress +Taleporter, and five or six honest wives that +were present. Why should I carry lies abroad? + +MOPSA, [to Shepherd's Son] Pray you now, buy it. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] Come on, lay it by, and +let's first see more ballads. We'll buy the other +things anon. + +AUTOLYCUS Here's another ballad, of a fish that appeared +upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore +of April, forty thousand fathom above water, and +sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids. It +was thought she was a woman, and was turned into +a cold fish for she would not exchange flesh with +one that loved her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as +true. + +DORCAS Is it true too, think you? + +AUTOLYCUS Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses +more than my pack will hold. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Lay it by too. Another. + +AUTOLYCUS This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty +one. + +MOPSA Let's have some merry ones. + +AUTOLYCUS Why, this is a passing merry one and goes +to the tune of "Two Maids Wooing a Man." There's +scarce a maid westward but she sings it. 'Tis in +request, I can tell you. + +MOPSA We can both sing it. If thou 'lt bear a part, thou +shalt hear; 'tis in three parts. + +DORCAS We had the tune on 't a month ago. + +AUTOLYCUS I can bear my part. You must know 'tis my +occupation. Have at it with you. + +Song. + + +AUTOLYCUS Get you hence, for I must go + Where it fits not you to know. + +DORCAS Whither? + +MOPSA O, whither? + +DORCAS Whither? + +MOPSA It becomes thy oath full well + Thou to me thy secrets tell. + +DORCAS Me too. Let me go thither. + +MOPSA Or thou goest to th' grange or mill. + +DORCAS If to either, thou dost ill. + +AUTOLYCUS Neither. + +DORCAS What, neither? + +AUTOLYCUS Neither. + +DORCAS Thou hast sworn my love to be. + +MOPSA Thou hast sworn it more to me. + Then whither goest? Say whither. + + +SHEPHERD'S SON We'll have this song out anon by +ourselves. My father and the gentlemen are in sad +talk, and we'll not trouble them. Come, bring away +thy pack after me.--Wenches, I'll buy for you +both.--Peddler, let's have the first choice.--Follow +me, girls. +[He exits with Mopsa, Dorcas, Shepherds and +Shepherdesses.] + +AUTOLYCUS And you shall pay well for 'em. + +Song. + + Will you buy any tape, + Or lace for your cape, + My dainty duck, my dear-a? + Any silk, any thread, + Any toys for your head, + Of the new'st and fin'st, fin'st wear-a? + Come to the peddler. + Money's a meddler + That doth utter all men's ware-a. +[He exits.] + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT, [to Shepherd] Master, there is three carters, +three shepherds, three neatherds, three swineherds, +that have made themselves all men of hair. +They call themselves saultiers, and they have a +dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of +gambols, because they are not in 't, but they themselves +are o' th' mind, if it be not too rough for +some that know little but bowling, it will please +plentifully. + +SHEPHERD Away! We'll none on 't. Here has been too +much homely foolery already.--I know, sir, we +weary you. + +POLIXENES You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let's +see these four threes of herdsmen. + +SERVANT One three of them, by their own report, sir, +hath danced before the King, and not the worst of +the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th' +square. + +SHEPHERD Leave your prating. Since these good men +are pleased, let them come in--but quickly now. + +SERVANT Why, they stay at door, sir. + +[He admits the herdsmen.] + +[Here a Dance of twelve herdsmen, dressed as Satyrs.] +[Herdsmen, Musicians, and Servants exit.] + +POLIXENES, [to Shepherd] +O father, you'll know more of that hereafter. +[Aside to Camillo.] Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to +part them. +He's simple, and tells much. [To Florizell.] How now, +fair shepherd? +Your heart is full of something that does take +Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young +And handed love, as you do, I was wont +To load my she with knacks. I would have ransacked +The peddler's silken treasury and have poured it +To her acceptance. You have let him go +And nothing marted with him. If your lass +Interpretation should abuse and call this +Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited +For a reply, at least if you make a care +Of happy holding her. + +FLORIZELL Old sir, I know +She prizes not such trifles as these are. +The gifts she looks from me are packed and locked +Up in my heart, which I have given already, +But not delivered. [To Perdita.] O, hear me breathe +my life +Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, +Hath sometime loved. I take thy hand, this hand +As soft as dove's down and as white as it, +Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fanned snow that's +bolted +By th' northern blasts twice o'er. + +POLIXENES What follows this?-- +How prettily th' young swain seems to wash +The hand was fair before.--I have put you out. +But to your protestation. Let me hear +What you profess. + +FLORIZELL Do, and be witness to 't. + +POLIXENES +And this my neighbor too? + +FLORIZELL And he, and more +Than he, and men--the Earth, the heavens, and +all-- +That were I crowned the most imperial monarch, +Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth +That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge +More than was ever man's, I would not prize them +Without her love; for her employ them all, +Commend them and condemn them to her service +Or to their own perdition. + +POLIXENES Fairly offered. + +CAMILLO +This shows a sound affection. + +SHEPHERD But my daughter, +Say you the like to him? + +PERDITA I cannot speak +So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better. +By th' pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out +The purity of his. + +SHEPHERD Take hands, a bargain.-- +And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't: +I give my daughter to him and will make +Her portion equal his. + +FLORIZELL O, that must be +I' th' virtue of your daughter. One being dead, +I shall have more than you can dream of yet, +Enough then for your wonder. But come on, +Contract us fore these witnesses. + +SHEPHERD Come, your hand-- +And daughter, yours. + +POLIXENES, [To Florizell] Soft, swain, awhile, beseech +you. +Have you a father? + +FLORIZELL I have, but what of him? + +POLIXENES +Knows he of this? + +FLORIZELL He neither does nor shall. + +POLIXENES Methinks a father +Is at the nuptial of his son a guest +That best becomes the table. Pray you once more, +Is not your father grown incapable +Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid +With age and alt'ring rheums? Can he speak? Hear? +Know man from man? Dispute his own estate? +Lies he not bedrid, and again does nothing +But what he did being childish? + +FLORIZELL No, good sir. +He has his health and ampler strength indeed +Than most have of his age. + +POLIXENES By my white beard, +You offer him, if this be so, a wrong +Something unfilial. Reason my son +Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason +The father, all whose joy is nothing else +But fair posterity, should hold some counsel +In such a business. + +FLORIZELL I yield all this; +But for some other reasons, my grave sir, +Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint +My father of this business. + +POLIXENES Let him know 't. + +FLORIZELL +He shall not. + +POLIXENES Prithee let him. + +FLORIZELL No, he must not. + +SHEPHERD +Let him, my son. He shall not need to grieve +At knowing of thy choice. + +FLORIZELL Come, come, he must not. +Mark our contract. + +POLIXENES, [removing his disguise] Mark your divorce, +young sir, +Whom son I dare not call. Thou art too base +To be acknowledged. Thou a scepter's heir +That thus affects a sheep-hook!--Thou, old traitor, +I am sorry that by hanging thee I can +But shorten thy life one week.--And thou, fresh +piece +Of excellent witchcraft, whom of force must know +The royal fool thou cop'st with-- + +SHEPHERD O, my heart! + +POLIXENES +I'll have thy beauty scratched with briers and made +More homely than thy state.--For thee, fond boy, +If I may ever know thou dost but sigh +That thou no more shalt see this knack--as never +I mean thou shalt--we'll bar thee from succession, +Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, +Far'r than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words. +Follow us to the court. [To Shepherd.] Thou, churl, +for this time, +Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee +From the dead blow of it.--And you, enchantment, +Worthy enough a herdsman--yea, him too, +That makes himself, but for our honor therein, +Unworthy thee--if ever henceforth thou +These rural latches to his entrance open, +Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, +I will devise a death as cruel for thee +As thou art tender to 't. [He exits.] + +PERDITA Even here undone. +I was not much afeard, for once or twice +I was about to speak and tell him plainly +The selfsame sun that shines upon his court +Hides not his visage from our cottage but +Looks on alike. [To Florizell.] Will 't please you, sir, +be gone? +I told you what would come of this. Beseech you, +Of your own state take care. This dream of mine-- +Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther, +But milk my ewes and weep. + +CAMILLO, [to Shepherd] Why, how now, father? +Speak ere thou diest. + +SHEPHERD I cannot speak, nor think, +Nor dare to know that which I know. [To Florizell.] +O sir, +You have undone a man of fourscore three, +That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea, +To die upon the bed my father died, +To lie close by his honest bones; but now +Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me +Where no priest shovels in dust. [To Perdita.] O +cursed wretch, +That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst +adventure +To mingle faith with him!--Undone, undone! +If I might die within this hour, I have lived +To die when I desire. [He exits.] + +FLORIZELL, [to Perdita] Why look you so upon me? +I am but sorry, not afeard; delayed, +But nothing altered. What I was, I am, +More straining on for plucking back, not following +My leash unwillingly. + +CAMILLO Gracious my lord, +You know your father's temper. At this time +He will allow no speech, which I do guess +You do not purpose to him; and as hardly +Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear. +Then, till the fury of his Highness settle, +Come not before him. + +FLORIZELL I not purpose it. +I think Camillo? + +CAMILLO, [removing his disguise] Even he, my lord. + +PERDITA, [to Florizell] +How often have I told you 'twould be thus? +How often said my dignity would last +But till 'twere known? + +FLORIZELL It cannot fail but by +The violation of my faith; and then +Let nature crush the sides o' th' Earth together +And mar the seeds within. Lift up thy looks. +From my succession wipe me, father. I +Am heir to my affection. + +CAMILLO Be advised. + +FLORIZELL +I am, and by my fancy. If my reason +Will thereto be obedient, I have reason. +If not, my senses, better pleased with madness, +Do bid it welcome. + +CAMILLO This is desperate, sir. + +FLORIZELL +So call it; but it does fulfill my vow. +I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, +Not for Bohemia nor the pomp that may +Be thereat gleaned, for all the sun sees or +The close earth wombs or the profound seas hides +In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath +To this my fair beloved. Therefore, I pray you, +As you have ever been my father's honored friend, +When he shall miss me, as in faith I mean not +To see him anymore, cast your good counsels +Upon his passion. Let myself and fortune +Tug for the time to come. This you may know +And so deliver: I am put to sea +With her who here I cannot hold on shore. +And most opportune to our need I have +A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared +For this design. What course I mean to hold +Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor +Concern me the reporting. + +CAMILLO O my lord, +I would your spirit were easier for advice +Or stronger for your need. + +FLORIZELL Hark, Perdita.-- +I'll hear you by and by. +[Florizell and Perdita walk aside.] + +CAMILLO He's irremovable, +Resolved for flight. Now were I happy if +His going I could frame to serve my turn, +Save him from danger, do him love and honor, +Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia +And that unhappy king, my master, whom +I so much thirst to see. + +FLORIZELL, [coming forward] Now, good Camillo, +I am so fraught with curious business that +I leave out ceremony. + +CAMILLO Sir, I think +You have heard of my poor services i' th' love +That I have borne your father? + +FLORIZELL Very nobly +Have you deserved. It is my father's music +To speak your deeds, not little of his care +To have them recompensed as thought on. + +CAMILLO Well, my +lord, +If you may please to think I love the King +And, through him, what's nearest to him, which is +Your gracious self, embrace but my direction, +If your more ponderous and settled project +May suffer alteration. On mine honor, +I'll point you where you shall have such receiving +As shall become your Highness, where you may +Enjoy your mistress--from the whom I see +There's no disjunction to be made but by, +As heavens forfend, your ruin--marry her, +And with my best endeavors in your absence, +Your discontenting father strive to qualify +And bring him up to liking. + +FLORIZELL How, Camillo, +May this, almost a miracle, be done, +That I may call thee something more than man, +And after that trust to thee? + +CAMILLO Have you thought on +A place whereto you'll go? + +FLORIZELL Not any yet. +But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty +To what we wildly do, so we profess +Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies +Of every wind that blows. + +CAMILLO Then list to me. +This follows: if you will not change your purpose +But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia, +And there present yourself and your fair princess, +For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes. +She shall be habited as it becomes +The partner of your bed. Methinks I see +Leontes opening his free arms and weeping +His welcomes forth, asks thee, the son, forgiveness, +As 'twere i' th' father's person; kisses the hands +Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him +'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness. Th' one +He chides to hell and bids the other grow +Faster than thought or time. + +FLORIZELL Worthy Camillo, +What color for my visitation shall I +Hold up before him? + +CAMILLO Sent by the King your father +To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir, +The manner of your bearing towards him, with +What you, as from your father, shall deliver, +Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down, +The which shall point you forth at every sitting +What you must say, that he shall not perceive +But that you have your father's bosom there +And speak his very heart. + +FLORIZELL I am bound to you. +There is some sap in this. + +CAMILLO A course more promising +Than a wild dedication of yourselves +To unpathed waters, undreamed shores, most +certain +To miseries enough; no hope to help you, +But as you shake off one to take another; +Nothing so certain as your anchors, who +Do their best office if they can but stay you +Where you'll be loath to be. Besides, you know +Prosperity's the very bond of love, +Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together +Affliction alters. + +PERDITA One of these is true. +I think affliction may subdue the cheek +But not take in the mind. + +CAMILLO Yea, say you so? +There shall not at your father's house these seven +years +Be born another such. + +FLORIZELL My good Camillo, +She's as forward of her breeding as she is +I' th' rear our birth. + +CAMILLO I cannot say 'tis pity +She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress +To most that teach. + +PERDITA Your pardon, sir. For this +I'll blush you thanks. + +FLORIZELL My prettiest Perdita. +But O, the thorns we stand upon!--Camillo, +Preserver of my father, now of me, +The medicine of our house, how shall we do? +We are not furnished like Bohemia's son, +Nor shall appear in Sicilia. + +CAMILLO My lord, +Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes +Do all lie there. It shall be so my care +To have you royally appointed as if +The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, +That you may know you shall not want, one word. +[They step aside and talk.] + +[Enter Autolycus.] + + +AUTOLYCUS Ha, ha, what a fool Honesty is! And Trust, +his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have +sold all my trumpery. Not a counterfeit stone, not a +ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table book, ballad, +knife, tape, glove, shoe tie, bracelet, horn ring, +to keep my pack from fasting. They throng who +should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed +and brought a benediction to the buyer; by which +means I saw whose purse was best in picture, and +what I saw, to my good use I remembered. My +clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable +man, grew so in love with the wenches' song that he +would not stir his pettitoes till he had both tune and +words, which so drew the rest of the herd to me that +all their other senses stuck in ears. You might have +pinched a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing to +geld a codpiece of a purse. I could have filed +keys off that hung in chains. No hearing, no feeling, +but my sir's song and admiring the nothing of it. So +that in this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of +their festival purses. And had not the old man come +in with a hubbub against his daughter and the +King's son, and scared my choughs from the chaff, I +had not left a purse alive in the whole army. +[Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita come forward.] + +CAMILLO, [to Florizell] +Nay, but my letters, by this means being there +So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. + +FLORIZELL +And those that you'll procure from King Leontes-- + +CAMILLO +Shall satisfy your father. + +PERDITA Happy be you! +All that you speak shows fair. + +CAMILLO, [noticing Autolycus] Who have we here? +We'll make an instrument of this, omit +Nothing may give us aid. + +AUTOLYCUS, [aside] +If they have overheard me now, why, hanging. + +CAMILLO How now, good fellow? Why shak'st thou so? +Fear not, man. Here's no harm intended to thee. + +AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir. + +CAMILLO Why, be so still. Here's nobody will steal that +from thee. Yet for the outside of thy poverty we +must make an exchange. Therefore discase thee +instantly--thou must think there's a necessity in +'t--and change garments with this gentleman. +Though the pennyworth on his side be the worst, +yet hold thee, there's some boot. +[He hands Autolycus money.] + +AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir. [Aside.] I know you +well enough. + +CAMILLO Nay, prithee, dispatch. The gentleman is half +flayed already. + +AUTOLYCUS Are you in earnest, sir? [Aside.] I smell the +trick on 't. + +FLORIZELL Dispatch, I prithee. + +AUTOLYCUS Indeed, I have had earnest, but I cannot +with conscience take it. + +CAMILLO Unbuckle, unbuckle. +[Florizell and Autolycus exchange garments.] +Fortunate mistress--let my prophecy +Come home to you!--you must retire yourself +Into some covert. Take your sweetheart's hat +And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face, +Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken +The truth of your own seeming, that you may-- +For I do fear eyes over--to shipboard +Get undescried. + +PERDITA I see the play so lies +That I must bear a part. + +CAMILLO No remedy.-- +Have you done there? + +FLORIZELL Should I now meet my father, +He would not call me son. + +CAMILLO Nay, you shall have no hat. +[He gives Florizell's hat to Perdita.] +Come, lady, come.--Farewell, my friend. + +AUTOLYCUS Adieu, sir. + +FLORIZELL +O Perdita, what have we twain forgot? +Pray you, a word. [They talk aside.] + +CAMILLO, [aside] +What I do next shall be to tell the King +Of this escape, and whither they are bound; +Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail +To force him after, in whose company +I shall re-view Sicilia, for whose sight +I have a woman's longing. + +FLORIZELL Fortune speed us!-- +Thus we set on, Camillo, to th' seaside. + +CAMILLO The swifter speed the better. +[Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita exit.] + +AUTOLYCUS I understand the business; I hear it. To have +an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand is +necessary for a cutpurse; a good nose is requisite +also, to smell out work for th' other senses. I see this +is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an +exchange had this been without boot! What a boot +is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do this +year connive at us, and we may do anything extempore. +The Prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, +stealing away from his father with his clog at his +heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to +acquaint the King withal, I would not do 't. I hold it +the more knavery to conceal it, and therein am I +constant to my profession. + +[Enter Shepherd's Son and Shepherd, carrying the +bundle and the box.] + +Aside, aside! Here is more matter for a hot brain. +Every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, +yields a careful man work. [He moves aside.] + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] See, see, what a man +you are now! There is no other way but to tell the +King she's a changeling and none of your flesh and +blood. + +SHEPHERD Nay, but hear me. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Nay, but hear me! + +SHEPHERD Go to, then. + +SHEPHERD'S SON She being none of your flesh and +blood, your flesh and blood has not offended the +King, and so your flesh and blood is not to be +punished by him. Show those things you found +about her, those secret things, all but what she has +with her. This being done, let the law go whistle, I +warrant you. + +SHEPHERD I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and +his son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest +man, neither to his father nor to me, to go about to +make me the King's brother-in-law. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest +off you could have been to him, and then your +blood had been the dearer by I know how much an +ounce. + +AUTOLYCUS, [aside] Very wisely, puppies. + +SHEPHERD Well, let us to the King. There is that in this +fardel will make him scratch his beard. + +AUTOLYCUS, [aside] I know not what impediment this +complaint may be to the flight of my master. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Pray heartily he be at' palace. + +AUTOLYCUS, [aside] Though I am not naturally honest, +I am so sometimes by chance. Let me pocket up my +peddler's excrement. [(He removes his false beard.)] +How now, rustics, whither are you bound? + +SHEPHERD To th' palace, an it like your Worship. + +AUTOLYCUS Your affairs there? What, with whom, the +condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, +your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, +and anything that is fitting to be known, discover! + +SHEPHERD'S SON We are but plain fellows, sir. + +AUTOLYCUS A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have +no lying. It becomes none but tradesmen, and they +often give us soldiers the lie, but we pay them for it +with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore +they do not give us the lie. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Your Worship had like to have given +us one, if you had not taken yourself with the +manner. + +SHEPHERD Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir? + +AUTOLYCUS Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. +Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? +Hath not my gait in it the measure of the +court? Receives not thy nose court odor from me? +Reflect I not on thy baseness court contempt? +Think'st thou, for that I insinuate and toze from +thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I am +courtier cap-a-pie; and one that will either push on +or pluck back thy business there. Whereupon I +command thee to open thy affair. + +SHEPHERD My business, sir, is to the King. + +AUTOLYCUS What advocate hast thou to him? + +SHEPHERD I know not, an 't like you. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [aside to Shepherd] Advocate's the +court word for a pheasant. Say you have none. + +SHEPHERD, [to Autolycus] None, sir. I have no pheasant, +cock nor hen. + +AUTOLYCUS +How blest are we that are not simple men! +Yet Nature might have made me as these are. +Therefore I will not disdain. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] This cannot be but a +great courtier. + +SHEPHERD His garments are rich, but he wears them +not handsomely. + +SHEPHERD'S SON He seems to be the more noble in +being fantastical. A great man, I'll warrant. I know +by the picking on 's teeth. + +AUTOLYCUS The fardel there. What's i' th' fardel? +Wherefore that box? + +SHEPHERD Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and +box which none must know but the King, and +which he shall know within this hour if I may come +to th' speech of him. + +AUTOLYCUS Age, thou hast lost thy labor. + +SHEPHERD Why, sir? + +AUTOLYCUS The King is not at the palace. He is gone +aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air +himself, for, if thou beest capable of things serious, +thou must know the King is full of grief. + +SHEPHERD So 'tis said, sir--about his son, that should +have married a shepherd's daughter. + +AUTOLYCUS If that shepherd be not in handfast, let him +fly. The curses he shall have, the tortures he shall +feel, will break the back of man, the heart of +monster. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Think you so, sir? + +AUTOLYCUS Not he alone shall suffer what wit can +make heavy and vengeance bitter; but those that are +germane to him, though removed fifty times, shall +all come under the hangman--which, though it be +great pity, yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling +rogue, a ram tender, to offer to have his daughter +come into grace! Some say he shall be stoned, but +that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne +into a sheepcote? All deaths are too few, the sharpest +too easy. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you +hear, an 't like you, sir? + +AUTOLYCUS He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then +'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a +wasps'-nest; then stand till he be three-quarters and +a dram dead, then recovered again with aqua vitae +or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and +in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall +he be set against a brick wall, the sun looking with a +southward eye upon him, where he is to behold him +with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these +traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at, +their offenses being so capital? Tell me--for you +seem to be honest plain men--what you have to the +King. Being something gently considered, I'll bring +you where he is aboard, tender your persons to his +presence, whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be +in man besides the King to effect your suits, here is +man shall do it. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] He seems to be of +great authority. Close with him, give him gold; and +though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft +led by the nose with gold. Show the inside of your +purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado. +Remember: "stoned," and "flayed alive." + +SHEPHERD, [to Autolycus] An 't please you, sir, to +undertake the business for us, here is that gold I +have. I'll make it as much more, and leave this +young man in pawn till I bring it you. + +AUTOLYCUS After I have done what I promised? + +SHEPHERD Ay, sir. + +AUTOLYCUS Well, give me the moiety. [Shepherd hands +him money.] Are you a party in this business? + +SHEPHERD'S SON In some sort, sir; but though my case +be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it. + +AUTOLYCUS O, that's the case of the shepherd's son! +Hang him, he'll be made an example. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] Comfort, good comfort. +We must to the King, and show our strange +sights. He must know 'tis none of your daughter nor +my sister. We are gone else.--Sir, I will give you as +much as this old man does when the business is +performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it +be brought you. + +AUTOLYCUS I will trust you. Walk before toward the +seaside. Go on the right hand. I will but look upon +the hedge, and follow you. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] We are blessed in this +man, as I may say, even blessed. + +SHEPHERD Let's before, as he bids us. He was provided +to do us good. [Shepherd and his son exit.] + +AUTOLYCUS If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune +would not suffer me. She drops booties in my +mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion: +gold, and a means to do the Prince my master good; +which who knows how that may turn back to my +advancement? I will bring these two moles, these +blind ones, aboard him. If he think it fit to shore +them again and that the complaint they have to the +King concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue +for being so far officious, for I am proof against that +title and what shame else belongs to 't. To him will I +present them. There may be matter in it. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and +Servants.] + + +CLEOMENES +Sir, you have done enough, and have performed +A saintlike sorrow. No fault could you make +Which you have not redeemed--indeed, paid down +More penitence than done trespass. At the last, +Do as the heavens have done: forget your evil; +With them forgive yourself. + +LEONTES Whilst I remember +Her and her virtues, I cannot forget +My blemishes in them, and so still think of +The wrong I did myself, which was so much +That heirless it hath made my kingdom and +Destroyed the sweet'st companion that e'er man +Bred his hopes out of. + +PAULINA True, too true, my lord. +If one by one you wedded all the world, +Or from the all that are took something good +To make a perfect woman, she you killed +Would be unparalleled. + +LEONTES I think so. Killed? +She I killed? I did so, but thou strik'st me +Sorely to say I did. It is as bitter +Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now, +Say so but seldom. + +CLEOMENES Not at all, good lady. +You might have spoken a thousand things that +would +Have done the time more benefit and graced +Your kindness better. + +PAULINA You are one of those +Would have him wed again. + +DION If you would not so, +You pity not the state nor the remembrance +Of his most sovereign name, consider little +What dangers by his Highness' fail of issue +May drop upon his kingdom and devour +Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy +Than to rejoice the former queen is well? +What holier than, for royalty's repair, +For present comfort, and for future good, +To bless the bed of majesty again +With a sweet fellow to 't? + +PAULINA There is none worthy, +Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods +Will have fulfilled their secret purposes. +For has not the divine Apollo said, +Is 't not the tenor of his oracle, +That King Leontes shall not have an heir +Till his lost child be found? Which that it shall +Is all as monstrous to our human reason +As my Antigonus to break his grave +And come again to me--who, on my life, +Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel +My lord should to the heavens be contrary, +Oppose against their wills. Care not for issue. +The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander +Left his to th' worthiest; so his successor +Was like to be the best. + +LEONTES Good Paulina, +Who hast the memory of Hermione, +I know, in honor, O, that ever I +Had squared me to thy counsel! Then even now +I might have looked upon my queen's full eyes, +Have taken treasure from her lips-- + +PAULINA And left them +More rich for what they yielded. + +LEONTES Thou speak'st truth. +No more such wives, therefore no wife. One worse, +And better used, would make her sainted spirit +Again possess her corpse, and on this stage, +Where we offenders now appear, soul-vexed, +And begin "Why to me?" + +PAULINA Had she such power, +She had just cause. + +LEONTES She had, and would incense me +To murder her I married. + +PAULINA I should so. +Were I the ghost that walked, I'd bid you mark +Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't +You chose her. Then I'd shriek, that even your ears +Should rift to hear me, and the words that followed +Should be "Remember mine." + +LEONTES Stars, stars, +And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife; +I'll have no wife, Paulina. + +PAULINA Will you swear +Never to marry but by my free leave? + +LEONTES +Never, Paulina, so be blest my spirit. + +PAULINA +Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath. + +CLEOMENES +You tempt him over-much. + +PAULINA Unless another +As like Hermione as is her picture +Affront his eye. + +CLEOMENES Good madam-- + +PAULINA I have done. +Yet if my lord will marry--if you will, sir, +No remedy but you will--give me the office +To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young +As was your former, but she shall be such +As, walked your first queen's ghost, it should take +joy +To see her in your arms. + +LEONTES My true Paulina, +We shall not marry till thou bid'st us. + +PAULINA That +Shall be when your first queen's again in breath, +Never till then. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT +One that gives out himself Prince Florizell, +Son of Polixenes, with his princess--she +The fairest I have yet beheld--desires access +To your high presence. + +LEONTES What with him? He comes not +Like to his father's greatness. His approach, +So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us +'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced +By need and accident. What train? + +SERVANT But few, +And those but mean. + +LEONTES His princess, say you, with him? + +SERVANT +Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think, +That e'er the sun shone bright on. + +PAULINA O Hermione, +As every present time doth boast itself +Above a better gone, so must thy grave +Give way to what's seen now. [To Servant.] Sir, you +yourself +Have said and writ so--but your writing now +Is colder than that theme--she had not been +Nor was not to be equalled. Thus your verse +Flowed with her beauty once. 'Tis shrewdly ebbed +To say you have seen a better. + +SERVANT Pardon, madam. +The one I have almost forgot--your pardon; +The other, when she has obtained your eye, +Will have your tongue too. This is a creature, +Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal +Of all professors else, make proselytes +Of who she but bid follow. + +PAULINA How, not women? + +SERVANT +Women will love her that she is a woman +More worth than any man; men, that she is +The rarest of all women. + +LEONTES Go, Cleomenes. +Yourself, assisted with your honored friends, +Bring them to our embracement. +[Cleomenes and others exit.] +Still, 'tis strange +He thus should steal upon us. + +PAULINA Had our prince, +Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had paired +Well with this lord. There was not full a month +Between their births. + +LEONTES Prithee, no more; cease. Thou +know'st +He dies to me again when talked of. Sure, +When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches +Will bring me to consider that which may +Unfurnish me of reason. They are come. + +[Enter Florizell, Perdita, Cleomenes, and others.] + +Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince, +For she did print your royal father off, +Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one, +Your father's image is so hit in you, +His very air, that I should call you brother, +As I did him, and speak of something wildly +By us performed before. Most dearly welcome, +And your fair princess--goddess! O, alas, +I lost a couple that 'twixt heaven and Earth +Might thus have stood, begetting wonder, as +You, gracious couple, do. And then I lost-- +All mine own folly--the society, +Amity too, of your brave father, whom, +Though bearing misery, I desire my life +Once more to look on him. + +FLORIZELL By his command +Have I here touched Sicilia, and from him +Give you all greetings that a king, at friend, +Can send his brother. And but infirmity, +Which waits upon worn times, hath something +seized +His wished ability, he had himself +The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his +Measured to look upon you, whom he loves-- +He bade me say so--more than all the scepters +And those that bear them living. + +LEONTES O my brother, +Good gentleman, the wrongs I have done thee stir +Afresh within me, and these thy offices, +So rarely kind, are as interpreters +Of my behindhand slackness. Welcome hither, +As is the spring to th' earth. And hath he too +Exposed this paragon to th' fearful usage, +At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune, +To greet a man not worth her pains, much less +Th' adventure of her person? + +FLORIZELL Good my lord, +She came from Libya. + +LEONTES Where the warlike Smalus, +That noble honored lord, is feared and loved? + +FLORIZELL +Most royal sir, from thence, from him, whose +daughter +His tears proclaimed his, parting with her. Thence, +A prosperous south wind friendly, we have crossed +To execute the charge my father gave me +For visiting your Highness. My best train +I have from your Sicilian shores dismissed, +Who for Bohemia bend, to signify +Not only my success in Libya, sir, +But my arrival and my wife's in safety +Here where we are. + +LEONTES The blessed gods +Purge all infection from our air whilst you +Do climate here! You have a holy father, +A graceful gentleman, against whose person, +So sacred as it is, I have done sin, +For which the heavens, taking angry note, +Have left me issueless. And your father's blest, +As he from heaven merits it, with you, +Worthy his goodness. What might I have been +Might I a son and daughter now have looked on, +Such goodly things as you? + +[Enter a Lord.] + + +LORD Most noble sir, +That which I shall report will bear no credit, +Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir, +Bohemia greets you from himself by me, +Desires you to attach his son, who has-- +His dignity and duty both cast off-- +Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with +A shepherd's daughter. + +LEONTES Where's Bohemia? Speak. + +LORD +Here in your city. I now came from him. +I speak amazedly, and it becomes +My marvel and my message. To your court +Whiles he was hast'ning--in the chase, it seems, +Of this fair couple--meets he on the way +The father of this seeming lady and +Her brother, having both their country quitted +With this young prince. + +FLORIZELL Camillo has betrayed me, +Whose honor and whose honesty till now +Endured all weathers. + +LORD Lay 't so to his charge. +He's with the King your father. + +LEONTES Who? Camillo? + +LORD +Camillo, sir. I spake with him, who now +Has these poor men in question. Never saw I +Wretches so quake. They kneel, they kiss the earth, +Forswear themselves as often as they speak. +Bohemia stops his ears and threatens them +With divers deaths in death. + +PERDITA O my poor father! +The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have +Our contract celebrated. + +LEONTES You are married? + +FLORIZELL +We are not, sir, nor are we like to be. +The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first. +The odds for high and low's alike. + +LEONTES My lord, +Is this the daughter of a king? + +FLORIZELL She is +When once she is my wife. + +LEONTES +That "once," I see, by your good father's speed +Will come on very slowly. I am sorry, +Most sorry, you have broken from his liking, +Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry +Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty, +That you might well enjoy her. + +FLORIZELL, [to Perdita] Dear, look up. +Though Fortune, visible an enemy, +Should chase us with my father, power no jot +Hath she to change our loves.--Beseech you, sir, +Remember since you owed no more to time +Than I do now. With thought of such affections, +Step forth mine advocate. At your request, +My father will grant precious things as trifles. + +LEONTES +Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress, +Which he counts but a trifle. + +PAULINA Sir, my liege, +Your eye hath too much youth in 't. Not a month +'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such +gazes +Than what you look on now. + +LEONTES I thought of her +Even in these looks I made. [To Florizell.] But your +petition +Is yet unanswered. I will to your father. +Your honor not o'erthrown by your desires, +I am friend to them and you. Upon which errand +I now go toward him. Therefore follow me, +And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman.] + + +AUTOLYCUS Beseech you, sir, were you present at this +relation? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I was by at the opening of the fardel, +heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he +found it, whereupon, after a little amazedness, we +were all commanded out of the chamber. Only this, +methought, I heard the shepherd say: he found the +child. + +AUTOLYCUS I would most gladly know the issue of it. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN I make a broken delivery of the +business, but the changes I perceived in the King +and Camillo were very notes of admiration. They +seemed almost, with staring on one another, to tear +the cases of their eyes. There was speech in their +dumbness, language in their very gesture. They +looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or +one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder appeared +in them, but the wisest beholder that knew +no more but seeing could not say if th' importance +were joy or sorrow; but in the extremity of the one it +must needs be. + +[Enter another Gentleman.] + +Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more.-- +The news, Rogero? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN Nothing but bonfires. The oracle +is fulfilled: the King's daughter is found! Such a +deal of wonder is broken out within this hour that +ballad makers cannot be able to express it. + +[Enter another Gentleman.] + +Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward. He can +deliver you more.--How goes it now, sir? This news +which is called true is so like an old tale that the +verity of it is in strong suspicion. Has the King +found his heir? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Most true, if ever truth were pregnant +by circumstance. That which you hear you'll +swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The +mantle of Queen Hermione's, her jewel about the +neck of it, the letters of Antigonus found with it, +which they know to be his character, the majesty of +the creature in resemblance of the mother, the +affection of nobleness which nature shows above +her breeding, and many other evidences proclaim +her with all certainty to be the King's daughter. Did +you see the meeting of the two kings? + +SECOND GENTLEMAN No. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Then have you lost a sight which +was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might +you have beheld one joy crown another, so and in +such manner that it seemed sorrow wept to take +leave of them, for their joy waded in tears. There +was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with +countenance of such distraction that they were to +be known by garment, not by favor. Our king, being +ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found +daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, +cries "O, thy mother, thy mother!" then asks Bohemia +forgiveness, then embraces his son-in-law, then +again worries he his daughter with clipping her. +Now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by +like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. +I never heard of such another encounter, which +lames report to follow it and undoes description to +do it. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN What, pray you, became of Antigonus, +that carried hence the child? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Like an old tale still, which will +have matter to rehearse though credit be asleep and +not an ear open: he was torn to pieces with a bear. +This avouches the shepherd's son, who has not only +his innocence, which seems much, to justify him, +but a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina +knows. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN What became of his bark and his +followers? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN Wracked the same instant of their +master's death and in the view of the shepherd, so +that all the instruments which aided to expose the +child were even then lost when it was found. But O, +the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was +fought in Paulina. She had one eye declined for the +loss of her husband, another elevated that the +oracle was fulfilled. She lifted the Princess from the +earth, and so locks her in embracing as if she would +pin her to her heart that she might no more be in +danger of losing. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN The dignity of this act was worth the +audience of kings and princes, for by such was it +acted. + +THIRD GENTLEMAN One of the prettiest touches of all, +and that which angled for mine eyes--caught the +water, though not the fish--was when at the relation +of the Queen's death--with the manner how +she came to 't bravely confessed and lamented by +the King--how attentiveness wounded his daughter, +till, from one sign of dolor to another, she did, +with an "Alas," I would fain say bleed tears, for I am +sure my heart wept blood. Who was most marble +there changed color; some swooned, all sorrowed. +If all the world could have seen 't, the woe had been +universal. + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Are they returned to the court? + +THIRD GENTLEMAN No. The Princess hearing of her +mother's statue, which is in the keeping of +Paulina--a piece many years in doing and now +newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio +Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could +put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of +her custom, so perfectly he is her ape; he so near to +Hermione hath done Hermione that they say one +would speak to her and stand in hope of answer. +Thither with all greediness of affection are they +gone, and there they intend to sup. + +SECOND GENTLEMAN I thought she had some great +matter there in hand, for she hath privately twice or +thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, +visited that removed house. Shall we thither and +with our company piece the rejoicing? + +FIRST GENTLEMAN Who would be thence that has the +benefit of access? Every wink of an eye some new +grace will be born. Our absence makes us unthrifty +to our knowledge. Let's along. +[The Three Gentlemen exit.] + +AUTOLYCUS Now, had I not the dash of my former life +in me, would preferment drop on my head. I +brought the old man and his son aboard the Prince, +told him I heard them talk of a fardel and I know +not what. But he at that time, overfond of the +shepherd's daughter--so he then took her to be-- +who began to be much seasick, and himself little +better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery +remained undiscovered. But 'tis all one to +me, for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it +would not have relished among my other +discredits. + +[Enter Shepherd and Shepherd's Son, +both dressed in rich clothing.] + +Here come those I have done good to against my +will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their +fortune. + +SHEPHERD Come, boy, I am past more children, but thy +sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] You are well met, sir. +You denied to fight with me this other day because I +was no gentleman born. See you these clothes? Say +you see them not and think me still no gentleman +born. You were best say these robes are not gentlemen +born. Give me the lie, do, and try whether I am +not now a gentleman born. + +AUTOLYCUS I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, and have been so any time these +four hours. + +SHEPHERD And so have I, boy. + +SHEPHERD'S SON So you have--but I was a gentleman +born before my father. For the King's son took me +by the hand and called me brother, and then the +two kings called my father brother, and then the +Prince my brother and the Princess my sister called +my father father; and so we wept, and there was the +first gentlemanlike tears that ever we shed. + +SHEPHERD We may live, son, to shed many more. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, or else 'twere hard luck, being in +so preposterous estate as we are. + +AUTOLYCUS I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all +the faults I have committed to your Worship and to +give me your good report to the Prince my master. + +SHEPHERD Prithee, son, do, for we must be gentle now +we are gentlemen. + +SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] Thou wilt amend thy +life? + +AUTOLYCUS Ay, an it like your good Worship. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Give me thy hand. I will swear to the +Prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in +Bohemia. + +SHEPHERD You may say it, but not swear it. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? +Let boors and franklins say it; I'll swear it. + +SHEPHERD How if it be false, son? + +SHEPHERD'S SON If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman +may swear it in the behalf of his friend.--And +I'll swear to the Prince thou art a tall fellow of thy +hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know +thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou +wilt be drunk. But I'll swear it, and I would thou +wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands. + +AUTOLYCUS I will prove so, sir, to my power. + +SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow. If +I do not wonder how thou dar'st venture to be +drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark, +the Kings and Princes, our kindred, are going to see +the Queen's picture. Come, follow us. We'll be thy +good masters. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizell, Perdita, Camillo, +Paulina, and Lords.] + + +LEONTES +O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort +That I have had of thee! + +PAULINA What, sovereign sir, +I did not well, I meant well. All my services +You have paid home. But that you have vouchsafed, +With your crowned brother and these your contracted +Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit, +It is a surplus of your grace which never +My life may last to answer. + +LEONTES O Paulina, +We honor you with trouble. But we came +To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery +Have we passed through, not without much content +In many singularities; but we saw not +That which my daughter came to look upon, +The statue of her mother. + +PAULINA As she lived peerless, +So her dead likeness, I do well believe, +Excels whatever yet you looked upon +Or hand of man hath done. Therefore I keep it +Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare +To see the life as lively mocked as ever +Still sleep mocked death. Behold, and say 'tis well. +[She draws a curtain +to reveal Hermione (like a statue).] +I like your silence. It the more shows off +Your wonder. But yet speak. First you, my liege. +Comes it not something near? + +LEONTES Her natural posture!-- +Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed +Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she +In thy not chiding, for she was as tender +As infancy and grace.--But yet, Paulina, +Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing +So aged as this seems. + +POLIXENES O, not by much! + +PAULINA +So much the more our carver's excellence, +Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her +As she lived now. + +LEONTES As now she might have done, +So much to my good comfort as it is +Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, +Even with such life of majesty--warm life, +As now it coldly stands--when first I wooed her. +I am ashamed. Does not the stone rebuke me +For being more stone than it?--O royal piece, +There's magic in thy majesty, which has +My evils conjured to remembrance and +From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, +Standing like stone with thee. + +PERDITA And give me leave, +And do not say 'tis superstition, that +I kneel, and then implore her blessing. [She kneels.] +Lady, +Dear queen, that ended when I but began, +Give me that hand of yours to kiss. + +PAULINA O, patience! +The statue is but newly fixed; the color's +Not dry. + +CAMILLO, [to Leontes, who weeps] +My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on, +Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, +So many summers dry. Scarce any joy +Did ever so long live; no sorrow +But killed itself much sooner. + +POLIXENES Dear my brother, +Let him that was the cause of this have power +To take off so much grief from you as he +Will piece up in himself. + +PAULINA Indeed, my lord, +If I had thought the sight of my poor image +Would thus have wrought you--for the stone is +mine-- +I'd not have showed it. + +LEONTES Do not draw the curtain. + +PAULINA +No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your fancy +May think anon it moves. + +LEONTES Let be, let be. +Would I were dead but that methinks already-- +What was he that did make it?--See, my lord, +Would you not deem it breathed? And that those +veins +Did verily bear blood? + +POLIXENES Masterly done. +The very life seems warm upon her lip. + +LEONTES +The fixture of her eye has motion in 't, +As we are mocked with art. + +PAULINA I'll draw the curtain. +My lord's almost so far transported that +He'll think anon it lives. + +LEONTES O sweet Paulina, +Make me to think so twenty years together! +No settled senses of the world can match +The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone. + +PAULINA +I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirred you, but +I could afflict you farther. + +LEONTES Do, Paulina, +For this affliction has a taste as sweet +As any cordial comfort. Still methinks +There is an air comes from her. What fine chisel +Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, +For I will kiss her. + +PAULINA Good my lord, forbear. +The ruddiness upon her lip is wet. +You'll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own +With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain? + +LEONTES +No, not these twenty years. + +PERDITA, [rising] So long could I +Stand by, a looker-on. + +PAULINA Either forbear, +Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you +For more amazement. If you can behold it, +I'll make the statue move indeed, descend +And take you by the hand. But then you'll think-- +Which I protest against--I am assisted +By wicked powers. + +LEONTES What you can make her do +I am content to look on; what to speak, +I am content to hear, for 'tis as easy +To make her speak as move. + +PAULINA It is required +You do awake your faith. Then all stand still-- +Or those that think it is unlawful business +I am about, let them depart. + +LEONTES Proceed. +No foot shall stir. + +PAULINA Music, awake her! Strike! +[Music sounds.] +'Tis time. Descend. Be stone no more. Approach. +Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, +I'll fill your grave up. Stir, nay, come away. +Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him +Dear life redeems you.--You perceive she stirs. + +[Hermione descends.] + + +Start not. Her actions shall be holy as +You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her +Until you see her die again, for then +You kill her double. Nay, present your hand. +When she was young, you wooed her; now in age +Is she become the suitor? + +LEONTES O, she's warm! +If this be magic, let it be an art +Lawful as eating. + +POLIXENES She embraces him. + +CAMILLO She hangs about his neck. +If she pertain to life, let her speak too. + +POLIXENES +Ay, and make it manifest where she has lived, +Or how stol'n from the dead. + +PAULINA That she is living, +Were it but told you, should be hooted at +Like an old tale, but it appears she lives, +Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. +[To Perdita.] Please you to interpose, fair madam. +Kneel +And pray your mother's blessing. [To Hermione.] +Turn, good lady. +Our Perdita is found. + +HERMIONE You gods, look down, +And from your sacred vials pour your graces +Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own, +Where hast thou been preserved? Where lived? How +found +Thy father's court? For thou shalt hear that I, +Knowing by Paulina that the oracle +Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved +Myself to see the issue. + +PAULINA There's time enough for that, +Lest they desire upon this push to trouble +Your joys with like relation. Go together, +You precious winners all. Your exultation +Partake to everyone. I, an old turtle, +Will wing me to some withered bough and there +My mate, that's never to be found again, +Lament till I am lost. + +LEONTES O peace, Paulina. +Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent, +As I by thine a wife. This is a match, +And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found +mine-- +But how is to be questioned, for I saw her, +As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many +A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far-- +For him, I partly know his mind--to find thee +An honorable husband.--Come, Camillo, +And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty +Is richly noted and here justified +By us, a pair of kings. Let's from this place. +[To Hermione.] What, look upon my brother! Both +your pardons +That e'er I put between your holy looks +My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law +And son unto the King, whom heavens directing, +Is troth-plight to your daughter.--Good Paulina, +Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely +Each one demand and answer to his part +Performed in this wide gap of time since first +We were dissevered. Hastily lead away. +[They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/timon-of-athens_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/timon-of-athens_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ca0137 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/timon-of-athens_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3998 @@ +Timon of Athens +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/timon-of-athens/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +TIMON, a noble Athenian +FLAVIUS, his steward +Servants of Timon: + LUCILIUS + FLAMINIUS + SERVILIUS +Other SERVANTS of Timon +APEMANTUS, a Cynic philosopher +ALCIBIADES, an Athenian Captain +His concubines: + PHRYNIA + TIMANDRA +SOLDIER of Alcibiades +SENATORS and LORDS of Athens +Friends of Timon: + LUCIUS + LUCULLUS + SEMPRONIUS + VENTIDIUS +Other FRIENDS of Timon +Servants of Timon's creditors: + CAPHIS, servant to a Senator + ISIDORE'S MAN + VARRO'S two MEN + TITUS + LUCIUS' MAN + HORTENSIUS + PHILOTUS +A POET +A PAINTER +A JEWELER +A MERCHANT +An OLD ATHENIAN +FOOL +PAGE +Three STRANGERS, one called HOSTILIUS +BANDITTI, theives +"Cupid" and other Maskers (as Amazons) +Soldiers, Servants, Messengers, Attendants, Musicians + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweler, and Merchant, at several +doors.] + + +POET Good day, sir. + +PAINTER I am glad you're well. + +POET +I have not seen you long. How goes the world? + +PAINTER +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +POET Ay, that's well known. +But what particular rarity, what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +PAINTER I know them both. Th' other's a jeweler. + +MERCHANT, [to Jeweler] +O, 'tis a worthy lord! + +JEWELER Nay, that's most fixed. + +MERCHANT +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness. +He passes. + +JEWELER I have a jewel here-- + +MERCHANT +O, pray, let's see 't. For the Lord Timon, sir? + +JEWELER +If he will touch the estimate. But for that-- + +POET, [to Painter] +When we for recompense have praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good. + +MERCHANT, [looking at the jewel] +'Tis a good form. + +JEWELER And rich. Here is a water, look ye. + +PAINTER, [to Poet] +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +POET A thing slipped idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum which oozes +From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i' th' flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and, like the current, flies +Each bound it chases. What have you there? + +PAINTER +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +POET +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +PAINTER 'Tis a good piece. + +POET +So 'tis. This comes off well and excellent. + +PAINTER +Indifferent. + +POET Admirable! How this grace +Speaks his own standing! What a mental power +This eye shoots forth! How big imagination +Moves in this lip! To th' dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +PAINTER +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch. Is 't good? + +POET I will say of it, +It tutors nature. Artificial strife +Lives in these touches livelier than life. + +[Enter certain Senators.] + + +PAINTER How this lord is followed. + +POET +The senators of Athens, happy men. + +PAINTER Look, more. + +POET +You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. +[(Indicating his poem.)] I have in this rough work +shaped out a man +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment. My free drift +Halts not particularly but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax. No leveled malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold, +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +PAINTER How shall I understand you? + +POET I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slipp'ry creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon. His large fortune, +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts--yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself; even he drops down +The knee before him and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +PAINTER I saw them speak together. + +POET +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o' th' mount +Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures +That labor on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states. Amongst them all +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her, +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +PAINTER 'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckoned from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the steepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well expressed +In our condition. + +POET Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +PAINTER Ay, marry, what of these? + +POET +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants, +Which labored after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +PAINTER 'Tis common. +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of +Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +[Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himself +courteously to every suitor. He is accompanied by a +Messenger and followed by Lucilius and other +Servants.] + + +TIMON Imprisoned is he, say you? + +MESSENGER +Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait. +Your honorable letter he desires +To those have shut him up, which failing +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON Noble Ventidius. Well, +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help, +Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt and free him. + +MESSENGER Your Lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him. I will send his ransom; +And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +MESSENGER All happiness to your Honor. [He exits.] + +[Enter an old Athenian.] + + +OLD MAN +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON Freely, good father. + +OLD MAN +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON I have so. What of him? + +OLD MAN +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here or no?--Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS Here, at your Lordship's service. + +OLD MAN +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift, +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON Well. What further? + +OLD MAN +One only daughter have I, no kin else +On whom I may confer what I have got. +The maid is fair, o' th' youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort. +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON The man is honest. + +OLD MAN Therefore he will be, Timon. +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON Does she love him? + +OLD MAN She is young and apt. +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON, [to Lucilius] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +OLD MAN +If in her marriage my consent be missing-- +I call the gods to witness--I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON How shall she be endowed +If she be mated with an equal husband? + +OLD MAN +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long. +To build his fortune, I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter. +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +OLD MAN Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honor, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honor on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your Lordship. Never may +That state or fortune fall into my keeping +Which is not owed to you. +[He exits with the old Athenian.] + +POET, [presenting his poem to Timon] +Vouchsafe my labor, and long live your Lordship. + +TIMON +I thank you. You shall hear from me anon. +Go not away.--What have you there, my friend? + +PAINTER +A piece of painting which I do beseech +Your Lordship to accept. + +TIMON Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man, +For, since dishonor traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside; these penciled figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work, +And you shall find I like it. Wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +PAINTER The gods preserve you. + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand. +We must needs dine together.--Sir, your jewel +Hath suffered under praise. + +JEWELER What, my lord? Dispraise? + +TIMON +A mere satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extolled, +It would unclew me quite. + +JEWELER My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give. But you well know +Things of like value, differing in the owners, +Are prized by their masters. Believe 't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON Well mocked. + +MERCHANT +No, my good lord. He speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +[Enter Apemantus.] + + +TIMON Look who comes here. Will you be chid? + +JEWELER We'll bear, with your Lordship. + +MERCHANT He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow-- +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know'st +them not. + +APEMANTUS Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON Yes. + +APEMANTUS Then I repent not. + +JEWELER You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Thou know'st I do. I called thee by thy +name. + +TIMON Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS Of nothing so much as that I am not like +Timon. + +TIMON Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON That's a deed thou 'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS Right, if doing nothing be death by th' law. + +TIMON How lik'st thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS He wrought better that made the painter, +and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. + +PAINTER You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS Thy mother's of my generation. What's +she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS No. I eat not lords. + +TIMON An thou shouldst, thou 'dst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS O, they eat lords. So they come by great +bellies. + +TIMON That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS So thou apprehend'st it. Take it for thy +labor. + +TIMON How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Not so well as plain-dealing, which will +not cost a man a doit. + +TIMON What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS Not worth my thinking.--How now, poet? + +POET How now, philosopher? + +APEMANTUS Thou liest. + +POET Art not one? + +APEMANTUS Yes. + +POET Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS Art not a poet? + +POET Yes. + +APEMANTUS Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, +where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +POET That's not feigned. He is so. + +APEMANTUS Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee +for thy labor. He that loves to be flattered is worthy +o' th' flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS E'en as Apemantus does now--hate a lord +with my heart. + +TIMON What? Thyself? + +APEMANTUS Ay. + +TIMON Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS That I had no angry wit to be a lord.--Art +not thou a merchant? + +MERCHANT Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not. + +MERCHANT If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound +thee! + +[Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.] + + +TIMON What trumpet's that? + +MESSENGER +'Tis Alcibiades and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them. Give them guide to us. +[Some Servants exit with Messenger.] +You must needs dine with me. Go not you hence +Till I have thanked you.--When dinner's done +Show me this piece.--I am joyful of your sights. + +[Enter Alcibiades with the rest.] + +Most welcome, sir. [They bow to each other.] + +APEMANTUS, [apart] So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love amongst these sweet +knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES, [to Timon] +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON Right welcome, sir. +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. +[All but Apemantus exit.] + +[Enter two Lords.] + + +FIRST LORD What time o' day is 't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Time to be honest. + +FIRST LORD That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The most accursed thou, that still omit'st it. + +SECOND LORD Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools. + +SECOND LORD Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +SECOND LORD Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give +thee none. + +FIRST LORD Hang thyself. + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding. +Make thy requests to thy friend. + +SECOND LORD +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence. + +APEMANTUS I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' ass. +[He exits.] + +FIRST LORD +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? He outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +SECOND LORD +He pours it out. Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward. No meed but he repays +Sevenfold above itself. No gift to him +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +FIRST LORD The noblest mind he carries +That ever governed man. + +SECOND LORD +Long may he live in fortunes. Shall we in? +I'll keep you company. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served +in, and then enter Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian +Lords (including Lucius), Alcibiades, and Ventidius +(which Timon redeemed from prison). Flavius and others +are in attendance. Then comes dropping after all +Apemantus discontentedly like himself.] + + +VENTIDIUS Most honored Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy and has left me rich. +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. [He offers a purse.] + +TIMON O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love. +I gave it freely ever, and there's none +Can truly say he gives if he receives. +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them. Faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit. More welcome are you to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. [They sit.] + +FIRST LORD My lord, we always have confessed it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, "confessed it"? Hanged it, have you not? + +TIMON O Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS No, you shall not make me welcome. +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou 'rt a churl. You've got a humor there +Does not become a man. 'Tis much to blame.-- +They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est, but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for 't indeed. + +APEMANTUS Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon. I +come to observe; I give thee warning on 't. + +TIMON I take no heed of thee. Thou 'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome. I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS I scorn thy meat. 'Twould choke me, for I +should ne'er flatter thee. [(Apart.)] O you gods, +what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em +not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in +one man's blood; and all the madness is, he cheers +them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men. +Methinks they should invite them without knives. +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for 't. The fellow that sits +next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draft, is the readiest +man to kill him. 'T 'as been proved. If I were a huge +man, I should fear to drink at meals, +Lest they should spy my wind-pipe's dangerous +notes. +Great men should drink with harness on their +throats. + +TIMON, [responding to a toast] +My lord, in heart! And let the health go round. + +SECOND LORD Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] "Flow this way"? A brave fellow. +He keeps his tides well. Those healths will make +thee and thy state look ill, Timon. +Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, +Honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire. +This and my food are equals. There's no odds. +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. + +Apemantus' grace. + + Immortal gods, I crave no pelf. + I pray for no man but myself. + Grant I may never prove so fond + To trust man on his oath or bond, + Or a harlot for her weeping, + Or a dog that seems a-sleeping, + Or a keeper with my freedom, + Or my friends if I should need 'em. + Amen. So fall to 't. + Rich men sin, and I eat root. +[He eats and drinks.] +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies +than a dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES So they were bleeding new, my lord, +there's no meat like 'em. I could wish my best +friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] Would all those flatterers were +thine enemies, then, that then thou mightst kill +'em and bid me to 'em. + +FIRST LORD Might we but have that happiness, my +lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby +we might express some part of our zeals, we +should think ourselves forever perfect. + +TIMON O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much +help from you. How had you been my friends else? +Why have you that charitable title from thousands, +did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf. And thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends if we should ne'er have need of 'em? They +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keeps +their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often +wished myself poorer that I might come nearer to +you. We are born to do benefits. And what better or +properer can we call our own than the riches of +our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis to +have so many, like brothers, commanding one +another's fortunes. O, joy's e'en made away ere 't +can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, +methinks. To forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] Thou weep'st to make them drink, +Timon. + +SECOND LORD +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +THIRD LORD +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] Much! [Sound tucket.] + +TIMON What means that trump? + +[Enter Servant.] + +How now? + +SERVANT Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies +most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON Ladies? What are their wills? + +SERVANT There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, +which bears that office to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON I pray, let them be admitted. [Servant exits.] + +[Enter "Cupid."] + + +CUPID +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. There +Taste, touch, all, pleased from thy table rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all. Let 'em have kind admittance. +Music, make their welcome! + +LUCIUS +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +[Music. Enter the masque of Ladies as Amazons, +with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.] + + +APEMANTUS, [apart] Hoy-day! +What a sweep of vanity comes this way. +They dance? They are madwomen. +Like madness is the glory of this life +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves +And spend our flatteries to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me. 'T 'as been done. +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +[The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of Timon, +and to show their loves each single out an Amazon, and +all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the +hautboys, and cease.] + + + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind. +You have added worth unto 't and luster, +And entertained me with mine own device. +I am to thank you for 't. + +FIRST LADY +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS, [apart] Faith, for the worst is filthy and +would not hold taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you. +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +ALL LADIES Most thankfully, my lord. +[Cupid and Ladies exit.] + +TIMON Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS Yes, my lord. [(Aside.)] More jewels yet? +There is no crossing him in 's humor; +Else I should tell him well, i' faith I should. +When all's spent, he'd be crossed then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. +[He exits.] + +FIRST LORD Where be our men? + +SERVANT Here, my lord, in readiness. + +SECOND LORD +Our horses. + +[Enter Flavius, with the casket.] + + +TIMON O my friends, I have one word +To say to you. Look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honor me so much +As to advance this jewel. Accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +FIRST LORD +I am so far already in your gifts-- + +ALL So are we all. + +[Enter a Servant.] + + +SERVANT +My lord, there are certain nobles of the Senate +Newly alighted and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. [Servant exits.] + +FLAVIUS I beseech your Honor, +Vouchsafe me a word. It does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near? Why, then, another time I'll hear thee. +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS, [aside] I scarce know how. + +[Enter another Servant.] + + +SECOND SERVANT +May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses trapped in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents +Be worthily entertained. [Servant exits.] + +[Enter a third Servant.] + +How now? What news? + +THIRD SERVANT Please you, my lord, that honorable +gentleman Lord Lucullus entreats your company +tomorrow to hunt with him and has sent your +Honor two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. [Servant exits.] + +FLAVIUS, [aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer. +Nor will he know his purse or yield me this-- +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good. +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For ev'ry word. He is so kind that he +Now pays interest for 't. His land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out. +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. [He exits.] + +TIMON, [to Lords] You do yourselves much wrong. +You bate too much of your own merits. +[(Offering a gift.)] Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +SECOND LORD +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +THIRD LORD O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON And now I remember, my lord, you gave good +words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis +yours because you liked it. + +FIRST LORD +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord. I know no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect. +I weigh my friends' affection with mine own. +I'll tell you true, I'll call to you. + +ALL LORDS O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give. +Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends +And ne'er be weary.--Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich. +It comes in charity to thee, for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitched field. + +ALCIBIADES Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +FIRST LORD We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON And so am I to you. + +SECOND LORD So infinitely endeared-- + +TIMON All to you.--Lights, more lights. + +FIRST LORD +The best of happiness, honor, and fortunes +Keep with you, Lord Timon. + +TIMON Ready for his friends. +[All but Timon and Apemantus exit.] + +APEMANTUS What a coil's here, +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs. +Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs. +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, +I would be good to thee. + +APEMANTUS No, I'll nothing, for if I should be bribed +too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and +then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou giv'st so +long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself +in paper shortly. What needs these feasts, pomps, +and vainglories? + +TIMON Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell, and +come with better music. [He exits.] + +APEMANTUS So. Thou wilt not hear me now, thou shalt +not then. I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! +[He exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter a Senator, with papers.] + + +SENATOR +And late five thousand. To Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum, +Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste! It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon-- +Ask nothing; give it him--it foals me straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold. No reason +Can sound his state in safety.--Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +[Enter Caphis.] + + +CAPHIS Here, sir. What is your pleasure? + +SENATOR +Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon. +Importune him for my moneys. Be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when +"Commend me to your master" and the cap +Plays in the right hand thus; but tell him +My uses cry to me. I must serve my turn +Out of mine own. His days and times are past, +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit. I love and honor him +But must not break my back to heal his finger. +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be tossed and turned to me in words +But find supply immediate. Get you gone. +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand, for I do fear +When every feather sticks in his own wing +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS I go, sir. + +SENATOR +"I go, sir"? Take the bonds along with you +And have the dates in. Come. +[He hands Caphis papers.] + +CAPHIS I will, sir. + +SENATOR Go. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Steward Flavius, with many bills in his hand.] + + +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop, so senseless of expense +That he will neither know how to maintain it +Nor cease his flow of riot. Takes no account +How things go from him nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue. Never mind +Was to be so unwise to be so kind. +What shall be done? He will not hear till feel. +I must be round with him, now he comes from +hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +[Enter Caphis, and the Men of Isidore and Varro.] + + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro. What, you come for money? + +VARRO'S MAN Is 't not your business too? + +CAPHIS It is. And yours too, Isidore? + +ISIDORE'S MAN It is so. + +CAPHIS Would we were all discharged! + +VARRO'S MAN I fear it. + +CAPHIS Here comes the lord. + +[Enter Timon, and his train, with Alcibiades.] + + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. [(To Caphis.)] With me? What is your +will? + +CAPHIS, [offering Timon a paper] +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON Dues? Whence are you? + +CAPHIS Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month. +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON Mine honest friend, +I prithee but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord-- + +TIMON Contain thyself, good friend. + +VARRO'S MAN, [offering a paper] One Varro's servant, +my good lord-- + +ISIDORE'S MAN, [offering a paper] +From Isidore. He humbly prays your speedy +payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- + +VARRO'S MAN +'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past. + +ISIDORE'S MAN +Your steward puts me off, my lord, and I +Am sent expressly to your Lordship. + +TIMON Give me breath.-- +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on. +I'll wait upon you instantly. +[Alcibiades and Timon's train exit.] +[To Flavius.] Come hither. Pray you, +How goes the world that I am thus encountered +With clamorous demands of debt, broken bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts +Against my honor? + +FLAVIUS, [to the creditors' Men] Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business. +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his Lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON Do so, my friends.-- +See them well entertained. + +FLAVIUS Pray, draw near. +[Timon and Flavius exit.] + +[Enter Apemantus and Fool.] + + +CAPHIS Stay, stay, here comes the Fool with Apemantus. +Let's ha' some sport with 'em. + +VARRO'S MAN Hang him! He'll abuse us. + +ISIDORE'S MAN A plague upon him, dog! + +VARRO'S MAN How dost, Fool? + +APEMANTUS Dost dialogue with thy shadow? + +VARRO'S MAN I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS No, 'tis to thyself. [(To the Fool.)] Come +away. + +ISIDORE'S MAN, [to Varro's Man] There's the fool hangs +on your back already. + +APEMANTUS No, thou stand'st single; thou 'rt not on +him yet. + +CAPHIS, [to Isidore's Man] Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS He last asked the question. Poor rogues +and usurers' men, bawds between gold and want. + +ALL THE MEN What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Asses. + +ALL THE MEN Why? + +APEMANTUS That you ask me what you are, and do not +know yourselves.--Speak to 'em, Fool. + +FOOL How do you, gentlemen? + +ALL THE MEN Gramercies, good Fool. How does your +mistress? + +FOOL She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS Good. Gramercy. + +[Enter Page.] + + +FOOL Look you, here comes my master's page. + +PAGE, [to Fool] Why, how now, captain? What do you in +this wise company?--How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Would I had a rod in my mouth that I +might answer thee profitably. + +PAGE Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription +of these letters. I know not which is which. +[He shows some papers.] + +APEMANTUS Canst not read? + +PAGE No. + +APEMANTUS There will little learning die, then, that +day thou art hanged. This is to Lord Timon, this to +Alcibiades. Go. Thou wast born a bastard, and +thou 'lt die a bawd. + +PAGE Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish +a dog's death. Answer not. I am gone. [He exits.] + +APEMANTUS E'en so thou outrunn'st grace.--Fool, I +will go with you to Lord Timon's. + +FOOL Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS If Timon stay at home.--You three serve +three usurers? + +ALL THE MEN Ay. Would they served us! + +APEMANTUS So would I--as good a trick as ever hangman +served thief. + +FOOL Are you three usurers' men? + +ALL THE MEN Ay, fool. + +FOOL I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant. +My mistress is one, and I am her Fool. When men +come to borrow of your masters, they approach +sadly and go away merry, but they enter my master's +house merrily and go away sadly. The reason +of this? + +VARRO'S MAN I could render one. + +APEMANTUS Do it then, that we may account thee a +whoremaster and a knave, which notwithstanding, +thou shalt be no less esteemed. + +VARRO'S MAN What is a whoremaster, fool? + +FOOL A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit; sometime 't appears like a lord, sometime +like a lawyer, sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones more than 's artificial one. He is +very often like a knight, and generally in all shapes +that man goes up and down in from fourscore to +thirteen, this spirit walks in. + +VARRO'S MAN Thou art not altogether a Fool. + +FOOL Nor thou altogether a wise man. As much foolery +as I have, so much wit thou lack'st. + +APEMANTUS That answer might have become Apemantus. + +ALL THE MEN Aside, aside! Here comes Lord Timon. + +[Enter Timon and Steward Flavius.] + + +APEMANTUS Come with me, fool, come. + +FOOL I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and +woman; sometime the philosopher. +[Apemantus and the Fool exit.] + +FLAVIUS, [to the creditors' Men] +Pray you, walk near. I'll speak with you anon. +[The Men exit.] + +TIMON +You make me marvel wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense +As I had leave of means. + +FLAVIUS You would not hear me. +At many leisures I proposed-- + +TIMON Go to. +Perchance some single vantages you took +When my indisposition put you back, +And that unaptness made your minister +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS O, my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you. You would throw them off +And say you found them in mine honesty. +When for some trifling present you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept-- +Yea, 'gainst th' authority of manners prayed you +To hold your hand more close. I did endure +Not seldom nor no slight checks when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now too late, yet now's a time. +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone, +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues. The future comes apace. +What shall defend the interim? And at length +How goes our reck'ning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word. +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry of falsehood, +Call me before th' exactest auditors, +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppressed +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted. Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord +Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. +Feast-won, fast-lost. One cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couched. + +TIMON Come, sermon me no further. +No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart. +If I would broach the vessels of my love +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And in some sort these wants of mine are crowned, +That I account them blessings. For by these +Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes. I am wealthy in my friends.-- +Within there! Flaminius!--Servilius! + +[Enter three Servants, Flaminius, Servilius, and another.] + + +SERVANTS My lord, my lord. + +TIMON I will dispatch you severally. [(To Servilius)] +You to Lord Lucius, [(to Flaminius)] to Lord +Lucullus you--I hunted with his Honor today; [(to +the third Servant)] you to Sempronius. Commend +me to their loves, and I am proud, say, that my +occasions have found time to use 'em toward a +supply of money. Let the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS As you have said, my lord. [Servants exit.] + +FLAVIUS, [aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh! + +TIMON Go you, sir, to the Senators, +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing. Bid 'em send o' th' instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name, +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON Is 't true? Can 't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer in a joint and corporate voice +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would, are sorry. You are honorable, +But yet they could have wished--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity. +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary. +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy. +Go to Ventidius. Prithee, be not sad. +Thou art true and honest--ingeniously I speak-- +No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately +Buried his father, by whose death he's stepped +Into a great estate. When he was poor, +Imprisoned, and in scarcity of friends, +I cleared him with five talents. Greet him from me. +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered +With those five talents. That had, give 't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak or think +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. +[He exits.] + +FLAVIUS I would I could not think it. +That thought is bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Flaminius waiting to speak with Lucullus, +from his master.] + +[Enter a Servant to him.] + + +SERVANT I have told my lord of you. He is coming +down to you. + +FLAMINIUS I thank you, sir. + +[Enter Lucullus.] + + +SERVANT Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS, [aside] One of Lord Timon's men? A gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right. I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer tonight.--Flaminius, honest +Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome, sir. +[(To Servant.)] Fill me some wine. [(Servant exits.)] +And how does that honorable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful +good lord and master? + +FLAMINIUS His health is well, sir. + +LUCULLUS I am right glad that his health is well, sir. +And what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty +Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which +in my lord's behalf I come to entreat your Honor +to supply; who, having great and instant occasion +to use fifty talents, hath sent to your Lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present assistance +therein. + +LUCULLUS La, la, la, la. "Nothing doubting" says he? +Alas, good lord! A noble gentleman 'tis, if he would +not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I +ha' dined with him and told him on 't, and come +again to supper to him of purpose to have him +spend less, and yet he would embrace no counsel, +take no warning by my coming. Every man has his +fault, and honesty is his. I ha' told him on 't, but I +could ne'er get him from 't. + +[Enter Servant with wine.] + + +SERVANT Please your Lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. +Here's to thee. [He drinks.] + +FLAMINIUS Your Lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS I have observed thee always for a towardly +prompt spirit--give thee thy due--and one that +knows what belongs to reason and canst use the +time well, if the time use thee well. Good parts in +thee.--Get you gone, sirrah. [Servant exits.] +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a bountiful +gentleman, but thou art wise and thou +know'st well enough, although thou com'st to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three solidares +for thee. [(Gives him money.)] Good boy, +wink at me, and say thou saw'st me not. Fare thee +well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is 't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! +[He throws the money back at Lucullus.] + +LUCULLUS Ha! Now I see thou art a fool and fit for thy +master. [Lucullus exits.] + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let molten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel my master's passion. This slave +Unto his honor has my lord's meat in him. +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment +When he is turned to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon 't, +And when he's sick to death, let not that part of +nature +Which my lord paid for be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Lucius, with three Strangers.] + + +LUCIUS Who, the Lord Timon? He is my very good +friend and an honorable gentleman. + +FIRST STRANGER We know him for no less, though we +are but strangers to him. But I can tell you one +thing, my lord, and which I hear from common +rumors: now Lord Timon's happy hours are done +and past, and his estate shrinks from him. + +LUCIUS Fie, no, do not believe it. He cannot want for +money. + +SECOND STRANGER But believe you this, my lord, that +not long ago one of his men was with the Lord +Lucullus to borrow fifty talents, nay, urged +extremely for 't, and showed what necessity +belonged to 't, and yet was denied. + +LUCIUS How? + +SECOND STRANGER I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCIUS What a strange case was that! Now, before the +gods, I am ashamed on 't. Denied that honorable +man? There was very little honor showed in 't. For +my own part, I must needs confess I have received +some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, +jewels, and suchlike trifles, nothing comparing to +his; yet had he mistook him and sent to me, I +should ne'er have denied his occasion fifty talents. + +[Enter Servilius.] + + +SERVILIUS, [aside] See, by good hap, yonder's my lord. +I have sweat to see his Honor. [To Lucius.] My +honored lord. + +LUCIUS Servilius. You are kindly met, sir. Fare thee +well. Commend me to thy honorable virtuous lord, +my very exquisite friend. [He turns to exit.] + +SERVILIUS May it please your Honor, my lord hath +sent-- + +LUCIUS Ha! What has he sent? I am so much endeared +to that lord; he's ever sending. How shall I thank +him, think'st thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS Has only sent his present occasion now, my +lord, requesting your Lordship to supply his +instant use with fifty talents. + +LUCIUS +I know his Lordship is but merry with me. +He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the meantime he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS Upon my soul, 'tis true, sir. + +LUCIUS What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish +myself against such a good time, when I might ha' +shown myself honorable! How unluckily it happened +that I should purchase the day before for a +little part, and undo a great deal of honor! Servilius, +now before the gods, I am not able to do--the +more beast, I say!--I was sending to use Lord +Timon myself, these gentlemen can witness; but I +would not for the wealth of Athens I had done 't +now. Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship, +and I hope his Honor will conceive the fairest +of me, because I have no power to be kind. And tell +him this from me: I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honorable +gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far as to use mine own words to +him? + +SERVILIUS Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCIUS I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. +[Servilius exits.] +True, as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed, +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. +[He exits.] + +FIRST STRANGER Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +SECOND STRANGER Ay, too well. + +FIRST STRANGER +Why, this is the world's soul, and just of the same +piece +Is every flatterer's sport. Who can call him his friend +That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing, +Timon has been this lord's father +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate, nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip. +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +THIRD STRANGER +Religion groans at it. + +FIRST STRANGER For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me +To mark me for his friend. Yet I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue, +And honorable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have returned to him, +So much I love his heart. But I perceive +Men must learn now with pity to dispense, +For policy sits above conscience. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter a Third Servant of Timon's with Sempronius, +another of Timon's friends.] + + +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't? Hum! 'Bove all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeemed from prison. All these +Owes their estates unto him. + +SERVANT My lord, +They have all been touched and found base metal, +For they have all denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS How? Have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him, +And does he send to me? Three? Humh! +It shows but little love or judgment in him. +Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, +Thrive, give him over. Must I take th' cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in 't. I'm angry at him +That might have known my place. I see no sense for 't +But his occasions might have wooed me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him. +And does he think so backwardly of me now +That I'll requite it last? No. +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To th' rest, and I 'mongst lords be thought a fool. +I'd rather than the worth of thrice the sum +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join: +Who bates mine honor shall not know my coin. +[He exits.] + +SERVANT Excellent! Your Lordship's a goodly villain. +The devil knew not what he did when he made +man politic. He crossed himself by 't, and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will set +him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear +foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those +that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms +on fire. +Of such a nature is his politic love. +This was my lord's best hope. Now all are fled, +Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead, +Doors that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employed +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows: +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Varro's two Men, meeting Titus and others, all +being Men of Timon's creditors to wait for his coming +out. Then enter Lucius' Man and Hortensius.] + + +VARRO'S FIRST MAN +Well met. Good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you, kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS Lucius! +What, do we meet together? + +LUCIUS' MAN Ay, and I think +One business does command us all, +For mine is money. + +TITUS So is theirs and ours. + +[Enter Philotus.] + + +LUCIUS' MAN +And, sir, Philotus' too. + +PHILOTUS Good day at once. + +LUCIUS' MAN Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS Laboring for nine. + +LUCIUS' MAN +So much? + +PHILOTUS Is not my lord seen yet? + +LUCIUS' MAN Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on 't. He was wont to shine at seven. + +LUCIUS' MAN +Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him. +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's, +But not, like his, recoverable. I fear +'Tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse: +That is, one may reach deep enough and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how t' observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money? + +HORTENSIUS Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS It is against my heart. + +LUCIUS' MAN Mark how strange it shows: +Timon in this should pay more than he owes, +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness. +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. + +VARRO'S FIRST MAN +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns. What's yours? + +LUCIUS' MAN Five thousand mine. + +VARRO'S FIRST MAN +'Tis much deep, and it should seem by th' sum +Your master's confidence was above mine, +Else surely his had equaled. + +[Enter Flaminius.] + + +TITUS One of Lord Timon's men. + +LUCIUS' MAN Flaminius? Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord +ready to come forth? + +FLAMINIUS No, indeed he is not. + +TITUS We attend his Lordship. Pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS I need not tell him that. He knows you are +too diligent. [He exits.] + +[Enter Flavius, the Steward in a cloak, muffled.] + + +LUCIUS' MAN +Ha! Is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him. + +TITUS Do you hear, sir? + +VARRO'S SECOND MAN By your leave, sir. + +FLAVIUS What do you ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferred you not your sums and bills +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down th' int'rest into their glutt'nous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up. +Let me pass quietly. +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end. +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. + +LUCIUS' MAN Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you, +For you serve knaves. [He exits.] + +VARRO'S FIRST MAN How? What does his cashiered +Worship mutter? + +VARRO'S SECOND MAN No matter what. He's poor, and +that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader +than he that has no house to put his head in? Such +may rail against great buildings. + +[Enter Servilius.] + + +TITUS O, here's Servilius. Now we shall know some +answer. + +SERVILIUS If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair +some other hour, I should derive much from 't. For +take 't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent. +His comfortable temper has forsook him. +He's much out of health and keeps his chamber. + +LUCIUS' MAN +Many do keep their chambers are not sick; +And if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS Good gods! + +TITUS We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS, [within] Servilius, help! My lord, my lord! + +[Enter Timon in a rage.] + + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my jail? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? + +LUCIUS' MAN Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS My lord, here is my bill. + +LUCIUS' MAN Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS And mine, my lord. + +VARRO'S SECOND MAN And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em! Cleave me to the girdle. + +LUCIUS' MAN Alas, my lord-- + +TIMON Cut my heart in sums! + +TITUS Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON Tell out my blood. + +LUCIUS' MAN Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that.--What yours?--And +yours? + +VARRO'S FIRST MAN My lord-- + +VARRO'S SECOND MAN My lord-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! +[Timon exits.] + +HORTENSIUS Faith, I perceive our masters may throw +their caps at their money. These debts may well be +called desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Timon and Flavius.] + + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves! +Creditors? Devils! + +FLAVIUS My dear lord-- + +TIMON What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS My lord-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so.--My steward! + +FLAVIUS Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius, all. +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul. +There's not so much left to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON Be it not in thy care. Go, +I charge thee, invite them all. Let in the tide +Of knaves once more. My cook and I'll provide. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting +them, with Attendants.] + + +FIRST SENATOR, [to the Second Senator] +My lord, you have my voice to 't. The fault's +Bloody. 'Tis necessary he should die. +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +SECOND SENATOR Most true. The law shall bruise 'em. + +ALCIBIADES +Honor, health, and compassion to the Senate! + +FIRST SENATOR Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues, +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood +Hath stepped into the law, which is past depth +To those that without heed do plunge into 't. +He is a man--setting his fate aside-- +Of comely virtues. +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honor in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touched to death, +He did oppose his foe; +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +FIRST SENATOR +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. +Your words have took such pains as if they labored +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarreling +Upon the head of valor--which indeed +Is valor misbegot, and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born. +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe +And make his wrongs his outsides, +To wear them like his raiment, carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord-- + +FIRST SENATOR You cannot make gross sins look clear. +To revenge is no valor, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favor, pardon me +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose themselves to battle +And not endure all threats? Sleep upon 't, +And let the foes quietly cut their throats +Without repugnancy? If there be +Such valor in the bearing, what make we +Abroad? Why, then, women are more valiant +That stay at home, if bearing carry it, +And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon +Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, +If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, +As you are great, be pitifully good. +Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? +To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust, +But in defense, by mercy, 'tis most just. +To be in anger is impiety, +But who is man that is not angry? +Weigh but the crime with this. + +SECOND SENATOR You breathe in vain. + +ALCIBIADES In vain? His service done +At Lacedaemon and Byzantium +Were a sufficient briber for his life. + +FIRST SENATOR What's that? + +ALCIBIADES +Why, I say, my lords, has done fair service +And slain in fight many of your enemies. +How full of valor did he bear himself +In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! + +SECOND SENATOR +He has made too much plenty with 'em. +He's a sworn rioter. He has a sin +That often drowns him and takes his valor prisoner. +If there were no foes, that were enough +To overcome him. In that beastly fury, +He has been known to commit outrages +And cherish factions. 'Tis inferred to us +His days are foul and his drink dangerous. + +FIRST SENATOR +He dies. + +ALCIBIADES Hard fate! He might have died in war. +My lords, if not for any parts in him-- +Though his right arm might purchase his own time +And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you, +Take my deserts to his and join 'em both. +And, for I know your reverend ages love +Security, I'll pawn my victories, all +My honor, to you, upon his good returns. +If by this crime he owes the law his life, +Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore, +For law is strict, and war is nothing more. + +FIRST SENATOR +We are for law. He dies. Urge it no more, +On height of our displeasure. Friend or brother, +He forfeits his own blood that spills another. + +ALCIBIADES Must it be so? It must not be. +My lords, I do beseech you, know me. + +SECOND SENATOR How? + +ALCIBIADES Call me to your remembrances. + +THIRD SENATOR What? + +ALCIBIADES +I cannot think but your age has forgot me. +It could not else be I should prove so base +To sue and be denied such common grace. +My wounds ache at you. + +FIRST SENATOR Do you dare our anger? +'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: +We banish thee forever. + +ALCIBIADES Banish me? +Banish your dotage, banish usury, +That makes the Senate ugly! + +FIRST SENATOR +If after two days' shine Athens contain thee, +Attend our weightier judgment. +And, not to swell our spirit, +He shall be executed presently. [Senators exit.] + +ALCIBIADES +Now the gods keep you old enough that you may live +Only in bone, that none may look on you!-- +I'm worse than mad. I have kept back their foes +While they have told their money and let out +Their coin upon large interest, I myself +Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? +Is this the balsam that the usuring Senate +Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment. +It comes not ill. I hate not to be banished. +It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, +That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up +My discontented troops and lay for hearts. +'Tis honor with most lands to be at odds. +Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. +[He exits.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Music. Enter divers Friends at several doors.] + + +FIRST FRIEND The good time of day to you, sir. + +SECOND FRIEND I also wish it to you. I think this honorable +lord did but try us this other day. + +FIRST FRIEND Upon that were my thoughts tiring when +we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as +he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. + +SECOND FRIEND It should not be, by the persuasion of +his new feasting. + +FIRST FRIEND I should think so. He hath sent me an +earnest inviting, which many my near occasions +did urge me to put off; but he hath conjured me +beyond them, and I must needs appear. + +SECOND FRIEND In like manner was I in debt to my +importunate business, but he would not hear my +excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, +that my provision was out. + +FIRST FRIEND I am sick of that grief too, as I understand +how all things go. + +SECOND FRIEND Every man here's so. What would he +have borrowed of you? + +FIRST FRIEND A thousand pieces. + +SECOND FRIEND A thousand pieces! + +FIRST FRIEND What of you? + +SECOND FRIEND He sent to me, sir-- + +[Enter Timon and Attendants.] + +Here he comes. + +TIMON With all my heart, gentlemen both! And how +fare you? + +FIRST FRIEND Ever at the best, hearing well of your +Lordship. + +SECOND FRIEND The swallow follows not summer +more willing than we your Lordship. + +TIMON, [aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter, such +summer birds are men.--Gentlemen, our dinner +will not recompense this long stay. Feast your ears +with the music awhile, if they will fare so harshly +o' th' trumpets' sound. We shall to 't presently. + +FIRST FRIEND I hope it remains not unkindly with your +Lordship that I returned you an empty messenger. + +TIMON O, sir, let it not trouble you. + +SECOND FRIEND My noble lord-- + +TIMON Ah, my good friend, what cheer? + +SECOND FRIEND My most honorable lord, I am e'en +sick of shame that when your Lordship this other +day sent to me, I was so unfortunate a beggar. + +TIMON Think not on 't, sir. + +SECOND FRIEND If you had sent but two hours before-- + +TIMON Let it not cumber your better remembrance. + +[The banquet brought in.] + + +Come, bring in all together. + +SECOND FRIEND All covered dishes! + +FIRST FRIEND Royal cheer, I warrant you. + +THIRD FRIEND Doubt not that, if money and the season +can yield it. + +FIRST FRIEND How do you? What's the news? + +THIRD FRIEND Alcibiades is banished. Hear you of it? + +FIRST AND SECOND FRIENDS Alcibiades banished? + +THIRD FRIEND 'Tis so. Be sure of it. + +FIRST FRIEND How? How? + +SECOND FRIEND I pray you, upon what? + +TIMON My worthy friends, will you draw near? + +THIRD FRIEND I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble +feast toward. + +SECOND FRIEND This is the old man still. + +THIRD FRIEND Will 't hold? Will 't hold? + +SECOND FRIEND It does, but time will--and so-- + +THIRD FRIEND I do conceive. + +TIMON Each man to his stool, with that spur as he +would to the lip of his mistress. Your diet shall +be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let +the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. +Sit, sit. [(They sit.)] The gods require our thanks: + +You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with +thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves +praised, but reserve still to give, lest your deities be +despised. Lend to each man enough, that one need +not lend to another; for, were your godheads to +borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make +the meat be beloved more than the man that gives +it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of +villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a +dozen of them be as they are. The rest of your fees, +O gods, the Senators of Athens, together with the +common tag of people, what is amiss in them, +you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these +my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so +in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they +welcome. + +Uncover, dogs, and lap. +[The dishes are uncovered. They contain +only water and stones.] + +SOME SPEAK What does his Lordship mean? + +SOME OTHER I know not. + +TIMON +May you a better feast never behold, +You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and lukewarm +water +Is your perfection. This is Timon's last, +Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, +Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces +Your reeking villainy. [(He throws water in their +faces.)] Live loathed and long, +Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, +Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, +You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies, +Cap-and-knee slaves, vapors, and minute-jacks. +Of man and beast the infinite malady +Crust you quite o'er! [(They stand.)] What, dost thou +go? +Soft! Take thy physic first--thou too--and thou.-- +Stay. I will lend thee money, borrow none. +[He attacks them and forces them out.] +What? All in motion? Henceforth be no feast +Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. +Burn, house! Sink, Athens! Henceforth hated be +Of Timon man and all humanity! [He exits.] + +[Enter Timon's Friends, the Senators, with other Lords.] + + +FIRST FRIEND How now, my lords? + +SECOND FRIEND Know you the quality of Lord Timon's +fury? + +THIRD FRIEND Push! Did you see my cap? + +FOURTH FRIEND I have lost my gown. + +FIRST FRIEND He's but a mad lord, and naught but +humors sways him. He gave me a jewel th' other +day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you +see my jewel? + +SECOND FRIEND Did you see my cap? + +THIRD FRIEND Here 'tis. + +FOURTH FRIEND Here lies my gown. + +FIRST FRIEND Let's make no stay. + +SECOND FRIEND +Lord Timon's mad. + +THIRD FRIEND I feel 't upon my bones. + +FOURTH FRIEND +One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. +[The Senators and the others exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Timon.] + + +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall +That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the bench +And minister in their steads! To general filths +Convert o' th' instant, green virginity! +Do 't in your parents' eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast! +Rather than render back, out with your knives +And cut your trusters' throats! Bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed! +Thy mistress is o' th' brothel. Son of sixteen, +Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire; +With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night rest, and neighborhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And yet confusion live! Plagues incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty, +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all th' Athenian bosoms, and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +That their society, as their friendship, may +Be merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods, where he shall find +Th' unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all!-- +Th' Athenians both within and out that wall, +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! +Amen. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Steward Flavius with two or three Servants.] + + +FIRST SERVANT +Hear you, Master Steward, where's our master? +Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +FIRST SERVANT Such a house broke? +So noble a master fall'n, all gone, and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm +And go along with him? + +SECOND SERVANT As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses picked; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunned poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. + +[Enter other Servants.] + +More of our fellows. + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruined house. + +THIRD SERVANT +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery. +That see I by our faces. We are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat. We must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake +Let's yet be fellows. Let's shake our heads and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +"We have seen better days." [(He offers them +money.)] Let each take some. +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more. +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. +[The Servants embrace and part several ways.] +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live +But in a dream of friendship, +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnished friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange unusual blood +When man's worst sin is he does too much good! +Who then dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, do still mar men. +My dearest lord, blest to be most accursed, +Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, +Nor has he with him to supply his life, +Or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out. +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will. +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Timon in the woods, with a spade.] + + +TIMON +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the Earth +Rotten humidity! Below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinned brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes, +The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The Senators shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honor. +It is the pasture lards the brother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who +dares +In purity of manhood stand upright +And say "This man's a flatterer"? If one be, +So are they all, for every grise of fortune +Is smoothed by that below. The learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy. +There's nothing level in our cursed natures +But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men. +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains. +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! [(Digging, he finds +gold.)] What is here? +Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold? +No, gods, I am no idle votarist. +Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will +make +Black white, foul fair, wrong right, +Base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! Why this? What this, you gods? Why, +this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads. +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless th' accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee, and approbation +With senators on the bench. This is it +That makes the wappened widow wed again; +She whom the spital house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To th' April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds +Among the rout of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. [(March afar off.)] Ha? A drum? +Thou 'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee. Thou 'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. +[He buries the gold, keeping some out.] + +[Enter Alcibiades, with Drum and Fife, in warlike +manner, and Phrynia and Timandra.] + + +ALCIBIADES What art thou there? Speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES I know thee well. +But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too, and more than that I know thee +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum. +With man's blood paint the ground gules, gules! +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel. +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubin look. + +PHRYNIA Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee. Then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give. +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES What is it, Timon? + +TIMON Promise me friendship, but perform none. If +thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for +thou art a man. If thou dost perform, confound +thee, for thou art a man. + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now. Then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this th' Athenian minion whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still. They love thee not that use thee. +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours. Season the slaves +For tubs and baths. Bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits +Are drowned and lost in his calamities.-- +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band. I have heard and grieved +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds when neighbor states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well. Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON Keep it. I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest, +And thee after, when thou hast conquered! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON That by killing of villains +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold. Go on. Here's gold. Go on. +Be as a planetary plague when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one. +Pity not honored age for his white beard; +He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword, for those milk paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the +babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their +mercy; +Think it a bastard whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced the throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse. Swear against objects; +Put armor on thine ears and on thine eyes, +Whose proof nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. [(He offers gold.)] There's gold to +pay thy soldiers. +Make large confusion and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not. Begone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee! + +BOTH WOMEN +Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant. [(He begins throwing gold +into their aprons.)] You are not oathable, +Although I know you'll swear--terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +Th' immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths. +I'll trust to your conditions. Be whores still. +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up. +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months +Be quite contrary. And thatch your poor thin roofs +With burdens of the dead--some that were hanged, +No matter; wear them, betray with them. Whore +still. +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face. +A pox of wrinkles! + +BOTH WOMEN Well, more gold. What then? +Believe 't that we'll do anything for gold. + +TIMON Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead +Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh +And not believes himself. Down with the nose-- +Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away-- +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal. Make curled-pate +ruffians bald, +And let the unscarred braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you. Plague all, +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold. +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +BOTH WOMEN +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first! I have given you +earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens.--Farewell, +Timon. +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spok'st well of me. + +ALCIBIADES Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES, [to the Women] We but offend him.-- +Strike. [The drum sounds; all but Timon exit.] + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! [(He digs.)] Common mother, +thou +Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast +Teems and feeds all; whose selfsame mettle-- +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed-- +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm, +With all th' abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning fire doth shine: +Yield him who all thy human sons do hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb; +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man. +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented. O, a root! Dear thanks! +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plow-torn leas, +Whereof ingrateful man with liquorish drafts +And morsels unctuous greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips-- + +[Enter Apemantus.] + +More man? Plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither. Men report +Thou dost affect my manners and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected, +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of future. Why this spade? This place? +This slavelike habit and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft, +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee. Hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath whom thou 'lt observe +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus. +Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade +welcome, +To knaves and all approachers. 'Tis most just +That thou turn rascal. Had'st thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself-- +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels +And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste +To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in all the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature. Bid them flatter thee. +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON A fool of thee. Depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS Why? + +TIMON Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in 't? + +APEMANTUS Ay. + +TIMON What, a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well, but thou +Dost it enforcedly. Thou 'dst courtier be again +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned before; +The one is filling still, never complete, +The other at high wish. Best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave whom Fortune's tender arm +With favor never clasped but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swathe, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged +thyself +In general riot, melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust, and never learned +The icy precepts of respect, but followed +The sugared game before thee. But myself-- +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of +men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare, +For every storm that blows--I to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden. +Thy nature did commence in sufferance. Time +Hath made thee hard in 't. Why shouldst thou hate +men? +They never flattered thee. What hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she-beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, begone. +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS I, that I was no prodigal. + +TIMON I, that I am one now. +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. [He gnaws a root.] + +APEMANTUS, [offering food] Here, I will mend thy feast. + +TIMON +First mend my company. Take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own by th' lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so; it is but botched. +If not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold. Look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON The best and truest, +For here it sleeps and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS Where liest a-nights, Timon? + +TIMON Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou +a-days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS Where my stomach finds meat, or rather +where I eat it. + +TIMON Would poison were obedient and knew my +mind! + +APEMANTUS Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS The middle of humanity thou never +knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When +thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they +mocked thee for too much curiosity. In thy rags +thou know'st none, but art despised for the contrary. +There's a medlar for thee. Eat it. + +TIMON On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS An thou 'dst hated meddlers sooner, thou +shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man +didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved +after his means? + +TIMON Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst +thou ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS Myself. + +TIMON I understand thee. Thou hadst some means to +keep a dog. + +APEMANTUS What things in the world canst thou nearest +compare to thy flatterers? + +TIMON Women nearest, but men--men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion +of men and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS Ay, Timon. + +TIMON A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee +t' attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee. If thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat thee. If thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect +thee when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass. If thou wert the ass, thy dullness would +torment thee, and still thou lived'st but as a breakfast +to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness +would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard +thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, +pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury. Wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse. +Wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard. Wert thou a leopard, thou wert germane +to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were +jurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and +thy defense absence. What beast couldst thou be +that were not subject to a beast? And what a beast +art thou already that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS If thou couldst please me with speaking to +me, thou mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth +of Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON How, has the ass broke the wall that thou art +out of the city? + +APEMANTUS Yonder comes a poet and a painter. The +plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to +catch it and give way. When I know not what else +to do, I'll see thee again. + +TIMON When there is nothing living but thee, thou +shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog +than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! Thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive. +I swoon to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON Away, thou tedious rogue! +I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee. +[Timon throws a stone at Apemantus.] + +APEMANTUS Beast! + +TIMON Slave! + +APEMANTUS Toad! + +TIMON Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave. +Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat +Thy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. +[(To his gold.)] O thou sweet king-killer and dear +divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire, thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed, thou valiant Mars, +Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap; thou visible god, +That sold'rest close impossibilities +And mak'st them kiss, that speak'st with every +tongue +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts, +Think thy slave, man, rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou 'st gold; +Thou wilt be thronged to shortly. + +TIMON Thronged to? + +APEMANTUS Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS Live and love thy misery. + +TIMON Long live so, and so die. I am quit. + +[Enter the Banditti.] + + +APEMANTUS +More things like men.--Eat, Timon, and abhor +them. [Apemantus exits.] + +FIRST BANDIT Where should he have this gold? It is +some poor fragment, some slender ort of his +remainder. The mere want of gold and the falling-from +of his friends drove him into this melancholy. + +SECOND BANDIT It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +THIRD BANDIT Let us make the assay upon him. If he +care not for 't, he will supply us easily. If he covetously +reserve it, how shall 's get it? + +SECOND BANDIT True, for he bears it not about him. 'Tis +hid. + +FIRST BANDIT Is not this he? + +OTHERS Where? + +SECOND BANDIT 'Tis his description. + +THIRD BANDIT He. I know him. + +ALL Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON Now, thieves? + +ALL +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON Both, too, and women's sons. + +ALL +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots. +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs. +The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips. +The bounteous huswife Nature on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want? Why want? + +FIRST BANDIT +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves professed, that you work not +In holier shapes, for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. [(He gives them gold.)] Go, suck the +subtle blood o' th' grape +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging. Trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +More than you rob. Take wealth and lives together. +Do, villainy, do, since you protest to do 't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea. The moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun. +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears. The earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n +From gen'ral excrement. Each thing's a thief. +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Has unchecked theft. Love not yourselves. Away! +Rob one another. There's more gold. [(He gives them +gold.)] Cut throats. +All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go. +Break open shops. Nothing can you steal +But thieves do lose it. Steal less for this I give you, +And gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +THIRD BANDIT Has almost charmed me from my profession +by persuading me to it. + +FIRST BANDIT 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he +thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our +mystery. + +SECOND BANDIT I'll believe him as an enemy and give +over my trade. + +FIRST BANDIT Let us first see peace in Athens. There is +no time so miserable but a man may be true. +[Thieves exit.] + +[Enter Flavius the Steward, to Timon.] + + +FLAVIUS O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and flailing? O, monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestowed! +What an alteration of honor has desp'rate want +made! +What viler thing upon the Earth than friends, +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wished to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye. I will present +My honest grief unto him and as my lord +Still serve him with my life.--My dearest master. + +TIMON +Away! What art thou? + +FLAVIUS Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men. +Then, if thou grant'st thou 'rt a man, I have forgot +thee. + +FLAVIUS An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON Then I know thee not. +I never had honest man about me, I. All +I kept were knaves to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. +[He weeps.] + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer, then. I love +thee +Because thou art a woman and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind, whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping. +Strange times that weep with laughing, not with +weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +T' accept my grief, and, whilst this poor wealth lasts, +To entertain me as your steward still. +[He offers money.] + +TIMON Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods. I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not, but one; +No more, I pray!--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind, +And thou redeem'st thyself. But all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise, +For by oppressing and betraying me +Thou mightst have sooner got another service; +For many so arrive at second masters +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +A usuring kindness, and as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master, in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late. +You should have feared false times when you did +feast. +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty, and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living. And believe it, +My most honored lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'd exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so. Thou singly honest man, +Here, take. [(Timon offers gold.)] The gods out of my +misery +Has sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy, +But thus conditioned: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famished flesh slide from the bone +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like blasted +woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS O, let me stay +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON If thou hat'st curses, +Stay not. Fly whilst thou art blest and free. +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Poet and Painter.] + + +PAINTER As I took note of the place, it cannot be far +where he abides. + +POET What's to be thought of him? Does the rumor +hold for true that he's so full of gold? + +PAINTER Certain. Alcibiades reports it. Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him. He likewise enriched +poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. 'Tis +said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +POET Then this breaking of his has been but a try for +his friends? + +PAINTER Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in +Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him in +this supposed distress of his. It will show honestly +in us and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just and true report +that goes of his having. + +[Enter Timon, behind them, from his cave.] + + +POET What have you now to present unto him? + +PAINTER Nothing at this time but my visitation. Only I +will promise him an excellent piece. + +POET I must serve him so too--tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +PAINTER Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' +th' time; it opens the eyes of expectation. Performance +is ever the duller for his act, and but in the +plainer and simpler kind of people the deed of saying +is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly +and fashionable. Performance is a kind of will or +testament which argues a great sickness in his +judgment that makes it. + +TIMON, [aside] Excellent workman! Thou canst not +paint a man so bad as is thyself. + +POET I am thinking what I shall say I have provided +for him. It must be a personating of himself, a +satire against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth +and opulency. + +TIMON, [aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults +in other men? Do so. I have gold for thee. + +POET Nay, let's seek him. +Then do we sin against our own estate +When we may profit meet and come too late. + +PAINTER True. +When the day serves, before black-cornered night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offered light. +Come. + +TIMON, [aside] +I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold +That he is worshiped in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plow'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave. +To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye +Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. [He comes forward.] + +POET +Hail, worthy Timon. + +PAINTER Our late noble master. + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +POET Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O, abhorred spirits! +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough-- +What, to you, +Whose starlike nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being? I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked. Men may see 't the better. +You that are honest, by being what you are +Make them best seen and known. + +PAINTER He and myself +Have travailed in the great shower of your gifts +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON Ay, you are honest men. + +PAINTER +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots and drink cold water? No? + +BOTH +What we can do we'll do to do you service. + +TIMON +You're honest men. You've heard that I have gold. +I am sure you have. Speak truth. You're honest men. + +PAINTER +So it is said, my noble lord, but therefor +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men. [(To the Painter.)] Thou draw'st a +counterfeit +Best in all Athens. Thou 'rt indeed the best. +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +PAINTER So-so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. [(To the Poet.)] And for thy +fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault. +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +BOTH Beseech your Honor +To make it known to us. + +TIMON You'll take it ill. + +BOTH Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON Will you indeed? + +BOTH Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave +That mightily deceives you. + +BOTH Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom. Yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +PAINTER I know none such, my lord. + +POET Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well. I'll give you gold. +Rid me these villains from your companies, +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draft, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +BOTH Name them, my lord, let 's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company. +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an archvillain keeps him company. +[(To one.)] If where thou art, two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. [(To the other.)] If thou wouldst +not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon.-- +Hence, pack. There's gold. You came for gold, you +slaves. +[(To one.)] You have work for me. There's payment. +Hence. +[(To the other.)] You are an alchemist; make gold of +that. +Out, rascal dogs! +[Timon drives them out and then exits.] + +[Enter Steward Flavius, and two Senators.] + + +FLAVIUS +It is vain that you would speak with Timon, +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +FIRST SENATOR Bring us to his cave. +It is our part and promise to th' Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +SECOND SENATOR At all times alike +Men are not still the same. 'Twas time and griefs +That framed him thus. Time, with his fairer hand +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS Here is his cave.-- +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends. Th' Athenians +By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee. +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +[Enter Timon out of his cave.] + + +TIMON +Thou sun that comforts, burn!--Speak and be +hanged! +For each true word a blister, and each false +Be as a cauterizing to the root o' th' tongue, +Consuming it with speaking. + +FIRST SENATOR Worthy Timon-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +FIRST SENATOR +The Senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +FIRST SENATOR O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The Senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought +On special dignities which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +SECOND SENATOR They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general gross; +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of it own fall, restraining aid to Timon, +And send forth us to make their sorrowed render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offense can weigh down by the dram-- +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON You witch me in it, +Surprise me to the very brink of tears. +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +FIRST SENATOR +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks; +Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name +Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild, +Who like a boar too savage doth root up +His country's peace. + +SECOND SENATOR And shakes his threat'ning sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +FIRST SENATOR Therefore, Timon-- + +TIMON +Well sir, I will. Therefore I will, sir, thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon-- +That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens +And take our goodly aged men by th' beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brained war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him that I care not, +And let him take 't at worst--for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer. For myself, +There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS, [to Senators] Stay not. All's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph. +It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still. +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +FIRST SENATOR We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country and am not +One that rejoices in the common wrack, +As common bruit doth put it. + +FIRST SENATOR That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen. + +FIRST SENATOR +These words become your lips as they pass through +them. + +SECOND SENATOR +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON Commend me to them +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do +them. +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +FIRST SENATOR, [to Second Senator] +I like this well. He will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither ere my tree hath felt the ax, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS, [to Senators] +Trouble him no further. Thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again, but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood, +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come +And let my gravestone be your oracle. +Lips, let four words go by and language end. +What is amiss, plague and infection mend. +Graves only be men's works, and death their gain. +Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign. +[Timon exits.] + +FIRST SENATOR +His discontents are unremovably +Coupled to nature. + +SECOND SENATOR +Our hope in him is dead. Let us return +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +FIRST SENATOR It requires swift foot. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.] + + +THIRD SENATOR +Thou hast painfully discovered. Are his files +As full as thy report? + +MESSENGER I have spoke the least. +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +FOURTH SENATOR +We stand much hazard if they bring not Timon. + +MESSENGER +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend, +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force +And made us speak like friends. This man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave +With letters of entreaty which imported +His fellowship i' th' cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +[Enter the other Senators.] + + +THIRD SENATOR Here come our brothers. + +FIRST SENATOR +No talk of Timon; nothing of him expect. +The enemy's drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare. +Ours is the fall, I fear, our foe's the snare. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter a Soldier in the woods, seeking Timon.] + + +SOLDIER +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? Speak, ho! No answer? What is this? +[He reads an epitaph.] +Timon is dead, who hath out-stretched his span. +Some beast read this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure, and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read. The character I'll take with wax. +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days. +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. +[He exits.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers +before Athens.] + + +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. [Sounds a parley.] + +[The Senators appear upon the walls.] + +Till now you have gone on and filled the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice. Till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Have wandered with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself "No more!" Now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +FIRST SENATOR Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +SECOND SENATOR So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means. +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +FIRST SENATOR These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your grief, nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies, and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +SECOND SENATOR Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out. +Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread. +By decimation and a tithed death, +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes, take thou the destined tenth +And, by the hazard of the spotted die, +Let die the spotted. + +FIRST SENATOR All have not offended. +For those that were, it is not square to take, +On those that are, revenge. Crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks but leave without thy rage. +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended. Like a shepherd +Approach the fold and cull th' infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +SECOND SENATOR What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to 't with thy sword. + +FIRST SENATOR Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates and they shall ope, +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before +To say thou 'lt enter friendly. + +SECOND SENATOR Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honor else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbor in our town till we +Have sealed thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES Then there's my glove. +Descend and open your uncharged ports. +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall, and no more. And to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds +But shall be remedied to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +BOTH 'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES Descend and keep your words. +[The Senators descend.] + +[Enter a Soldier, with the wax tablet.] + + +SOLDIER +My noble general, Timon is dead, +Entombed upon the very hem o' th' sea, +And on his gravestone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES [reads the epitaph.] +Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft. +Seek not my name. A plague consume you, wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon, who, alive, all living men did hate. +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay not here +thy gait. +These well express in thee thy latter spirits. +Though thou abhorred'st in us our human griefs, +Scorned'st our brains' flow and those our droplets +which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon, of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make +each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. +[Drums. They exit.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/titus-andronicus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/titus-andronicus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2395b24 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/titus-andronicus_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4033 @@ +Titus Andronicus +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/titus-andronicus/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman general +LAVINIA, his daughter +His sons: + LUCIUS + MUTIUS + MARTIUS + QUINTUS +YOUNG LUCIUS, his grandson +MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Titus's brother, a Roman tribune +PUBLIUS, his son +Titus's kinsmen: + SEMPRONIUS + CAIUS + VALENTINE +SATURNINUS, elder son of the former Roman emperor, later emperor +BASSIANUS, younger son of the former emperor +TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later empress +AARON the Moor, Tamora's lover +Tamora's sons: + ALARBUS + DEMETRIUS + CHIRON +AEMILIUS, A Roman nobleman +MESSENGER +NURSE +A Roman CAPTAIN +COUNTRY FELLOW +FIRST GOTH +SECOND GOTH +Tribunes, Senators, Romans, Goths, Drummers, Trumpeters, Soldiers, Guards, Attendants, a black Child + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter the Tribunes (including Marcus +Andronicus) and Senators aloft. And then enter, below, +Saturninus and his followers at one door, and +Bassianus and his followers at another door, with +other Romans, Drums, and Trumpets.] + + +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms. +And countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords. +I am his firstborn son that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome. +Then let my father's honors live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep, then, this passage to the Capitol, +And suffer not dishonor to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence, and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +MARCUS, [aloft, stepping forward and holding up the +crown] +Princes that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome. +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls. +He by the Senate is accited home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths, +That with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride. Five times he hath returned +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field. +And now at last, laden with honor's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honor of his name +Whom worthily you would have now succeed, +And in the Capitol and Senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honor and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength, +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honor thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weighed. +[Bassianus' Soldiers exit.] + +SATURNINUS +Friends that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person, and the cause. +[Saturninus' Soldiers exit.] +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. +[Flourish. They exit to go up into the Senate House. +The Tribunes and Senators exit from the upper stage.] + +[Enter a Captain.] + + +CAPTAIN +Romans, make way! The good Andronicus, +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honor and with fortune is returned +From where he circumscribed with his sword +And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome. + +[Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter two of Titus' +sons (Lucius and Mutius) and then two men bearing a +coffin covered with black, then two other sons (Martius +and Quintus), then Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora +the Queen of Goths and her sons Alarbus, Chiron and +Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor, and others as many as +can be, then set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.] + + +TITUS +Hail Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his fraught +Returns with precious lading to the bay +From whence at first she weighed her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To resalute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend. +Romans, of five-and-twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains alive and dead. +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors. +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons unburied yet +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. +[They open the tomb.] +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars. +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons hast thou of mine in store +That thou wilt never render to me more? + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs and on a pile, +Ad manes fratrum, sacrifice his flesh +Before this earthy prison of their bones, +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturbed with prodigies on Earth. + +TITUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren!--Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son. +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O think my son to be as dear to me. +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome +To beautify thy triumphs and return +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these! +[She kneels.] +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood. +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful. +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. +Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice. +To this your son is marked, and die he must, +T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him, and make a fire straight, +And with our swords upon a pile of wood +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. +[Exit Titus' sons with Alarbus.] + +TAMORA, [rising and speaking aside to her sons] +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON, [aside to Tamora and Demetrius] +Was never Scythia half so barbarous! + +DEMETRIUS, [aside to Tamora and Chiron] +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome! +Alarbus goes to rest and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The selfsame gods that armed the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent +May favor Tamora the Queen of Goths +(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen) +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +[Enter the sons of Andronicus again with bloody swords.] + + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have performed +Our Roman rites. Alarbus' limbs are lopped, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren, +And with loud larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS +Let it be so. And let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. +[Sound trumpets, and lay the coffin in the tomb.] +In peace and honor rest you here, my sons, +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps. +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned drugs; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep. +In peace and honor rest you here, my sons. + +[Enter Lavinia.] + + +LAVINIA +In peace and honor live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame. +[She kneels.] +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render for my brethren's obsequies, +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy +Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome. +O bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud. + +TITUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!-- +Lavinia, live, outlive thy father's days +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise. +[Lavinia rises.] + +[Enter Marcus Andronicus, carrying a white robe. +Enter aloft Saturninus, Bassianus, Tribunes, Senators, +and Guards.] + + +MARCUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome. + +TITUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars-- +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame. +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords; +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness, +And triumphs over chance in honor's bed.-- +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue, +And name thee in election for the empire +With these our late deceased emperor's sons. +Be candidatus, then, and put it on +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness. +[To Tribunes and Senators aloft.] What, should I don +this robe and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations today, +Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country. +Give me a staff of honor for mine age, +But not a scepter to control the world. +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS Romans, do me right. +Patricians, draw your swords and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.-- +Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts. + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee. + +TITUS +Content thee, prince. I will restore to thee +The people's hearts and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honor thee, and will do till I die. +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be, and thanks, to men +Of noble minds, is honorable meed. + +TITUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages. +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +TRIBUNES +To gratify the good Andronicus +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS +Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make: +That you create our emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on Earth +And ripen justice in this commonweal. +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say "Long live our emperor." + +MARCUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say "Long live our Emperor Saturnine." +[A long flourish till Saturninus, Bassianus, +and Guards come down.] + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness. +And for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honorable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse. +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS +It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match +I hold me highly honored of your Grace; +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners, +Presents well worthy Rome's imperious lord. +Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honor's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life. +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record.--And when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS, [to Tamora] +Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor, +To him that for your honor and your state +Will use you nobly, and your followers. + +SATURNINUS, [aside] +A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-- +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance. +Though chance of war hath wrought this change +of cheer, +Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome. +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.-- +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord, sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia.--Romans, let us go. +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free. +Proclaim our honors, lords, with trump and drum. +[Flourish. Saturninus and his Guards exit, with Drums +and Trumpets. Tribunes and Senators exit aloft.] + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +TITUS +How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. +[Bassianus takes Lavinia by the arm.] + +MARCUS +Suum cuique is our Roman justice. +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will and shall, if Lucius live! + +TITUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor's guard? + +[Enter Saturninus and his Guards.] + +Treason, my lord. Lavinia is surprised. + +SATURNINUS +Surprised? By whom? + +BASSIANUS By him that justly may +Bear his betrothed from all the world away. + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. +[Bassianus, Lavinia, Marcus, Lucius, +Quintus, and Martius exit.] + +TITUS, [to Saturninus] +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. +[Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, +Aaron, and Guards exit.] + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS What, villain boy, +Barr'st me my way in Rome? +[He stabs Mutius.] + +MUTIUS Help, Lucius, help! +[Mutius dies.] + +[Enter Lucius.] + + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and more than so! +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS +Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine. +My sons would never so dishonor me. +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor. + +[Enter aloft the Emperor Saturninus with Tamora +and her two sons and Aaron the Moor.] + + +LUCIUS +Dead if you will, but not to be his wife +That is another's lawful promised love. [He exits.] + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock. +I'll trust by leisure him that mocks me once, +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonor me. +Was none in Rome to make a stale +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine +That said'st I begged the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS +O monstrous! What reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways. Go give that changing piece +To him that flourished for her with his sword. +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy, +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee Emperess of Rome. +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my +choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near, +And tapers burn so bright, and everything +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not resalute the streets of Rome +Or climb my palace till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, to Pantheon.--Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered. +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. +[All but Titus exit.] + +TITUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonored thus and challenged of wrongs? + +[Enter Marcus and Titus' sons Lucius, Martius, +and Quintus.] + + +MARCUS +O Titus, see! O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these confederates in the deed +That hath dishonored all our family. +Unworthy brother and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial as becomes, +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS +Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb. +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously reedified. +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame, none basely slain in brawls. +Bury him where you can. He comes not here. + +MARCUS +My lord, this is impiety in you. +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him. +He must be buried with his brethren. + +MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS +"And shall"? What villain was it spake that word? + +MARTIUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And with these boys mine honor thou hast wounded. +My foes I do repute you every one. +So trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +QUINTUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +MARTIUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. +[The brother (Marcus) and the sons +(Lucius, Martius, and Quintus) kneel.] + +MARCUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead-- + +MARTIUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak-- + +TITUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all-- + +MARCUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honor and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous. +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax, +That slew himself, and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals. +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy, +Be barred his entrance here. + +TITUS Rise, Marcus, rise. +[They rise.] +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonored by my sons in Rome. +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. +[They put Mutius in the tomb.] + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends', +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. +[They all except Titus kneel and say:] + +No man shed tears for noble Mutius. +He lives in fame, that died in virtue's cause. +[All but Marcus and Titus exit.] + +MARCUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS +I know not, Marcus, but I know it is. +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell. +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +[Flourish. Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora +and her two sons, with Aaron the Moor, Drums and +Trumpets, at one door. Enter at the other door +Bassianus and Lavinia, with Lucius, Martius, and +Quintus, and others.] + + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have played your prize. +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, +Nor wish no less, and so I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +"Rape" call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My true betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all. +Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir, you are very short with us. +But if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must, and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your Grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honor wronged, +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you, and highly moved to wrath +To be controlled in that he frankly gave. +Receive him then to favor, Saturnine, +That hath expressed himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds. +'Tis thou, and those, that have dishonored me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge +How I have loved and honored Saturnine. [He kneels.] + +TAMORA, [to Saturninus] +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak indifferently for all, +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam, be dishonored openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonor you. +But on mine honor dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all, +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs. +Then at my suit look graciously on him. +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. +[Aside to Saturninus.] My lord, be ruled by me; be +won at last. +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents. +You are but newly planted in your throne. +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey take Titus' part +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin. +Yield at entreats, and then let me alone. +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. +[Aloud.] Come, come, sweet emperor.--Come, +Andronicus.-- +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise. My empress hath prevailed. + +TITUS, [rising] +I thank your Majesty and her, my lord. +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the Emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus.-- +And let it be mine honor, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you.-- +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have passed +My word and promise to the Emperor +That you will be more mild and tractable.-- +And fear not, lords--and you, Lavinia. +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his Majesty. +[Marcus, Lavinia, Lucius, Martius, and Quintus kneel.] + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tend'ring our sister's honor and our own. + +MARCUS +That on mine honor here do I protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends. +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace. +I will not be denied. Sweetheart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults. +Stand up. [They rise.] +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the Emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.-- +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS +Tomorrow, an it please your Majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your Grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. +[Sound trumpets. All but Aaron exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= + +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of Fortune's shot, and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash, +Advanced above pale Envy's threat'ning reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach +And overlooks the highest-peering hills, +So Tamora. +Upon her wit doth earthly honor wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fettered in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold +To wait upon this new-made emperess. +To wait, said I? To wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren that will charm Rome's Saturnine +And see his shipwrack and his commonweal's. +Holla! What storm is this? + +[Enter Chiron and Demetrius, braving.] + + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge +And manners, to intrude where I am graced, +And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost overween in all, +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate. +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve and to deserve my mistress' grace, +And that my sword upon thee shall approve +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON, [aside] +Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace. + +DEMETRIUS, [to Chiron] +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends? +Go to. Have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow you so brave? [They draw.] + +AARON Why, how now, lords? +So near the Emperor's palace dare you draw +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge. +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns, +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonored in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom, and withal +Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonor here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved, +Foul-spoken coward, that thund'rest with thy tongue +And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform. + +AARON Away, I say! +Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose +Or Bassianus so degenerate +That for her love such quarrels may be broached +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! And should the Empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world. +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice. +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are you mad? Or know you not in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her how? + +DEMETRIUS Why makes thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man, more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of, and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know. +Though Bassianus be the Emperor's brother, +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON, [aside] +Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks, and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark you, hark you! And are you such fools +To square for this? Would it offend you then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar. +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect, and so must you resolve +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than ling'ring languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop. +The forest walks are wide and spacious, +And many unfrequented plots there are, +Fitted by kind for rape and villainy. +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words. +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villainy and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint withal what we intend, +And she shall file our engines with advice +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The Emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears; +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull. +There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your +turns. +There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, +Per Stygia, per manes vehor. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sons, and +Marcus, making a noise with hounds and horns.] + + +TITUS +The hunt is up, the moon is bright and gray, +The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green. +Uncouple here, and let us make a bay +And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride, +And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the Emperor's person carefully. +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +[Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal. Then +enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, +Demetrius, and their Attendants.] + + +TITUS +Many good morrows to your Majesty;-- +Madam, to you as many, and as good.-- +I promised your Grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lords-- +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA I say no. +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then. Horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. [(To Tamora)] Madam, now shall +you see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way and runs like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS, [aside to Chiron] +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Aaron, alone, carrying a bag of gold.] + + +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villainy. [He hides the bag.] +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest +That have their alms out of the Empress' chest. + +[Enter Tamora alone to Aaron the Moor.] + + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When everything doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snakes lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a checkered shadow on the ground. +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise. +And after conflict such as was supposed +The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed +When with a happy storm they were surprised, +And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber, +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine. +What signifies my deadly standing eye, +My silence, and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs. +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus. +His Philomel must lose her tongue today, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +[He takes out a paper.] +Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee, +And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll. +[He hands her the paper.] +Now, question me no more. We are espied. +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +[Enter Bassianus and Lavinia.] + + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress. Bassianus comes. +Be cross with him, and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. +[He exits.] + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of my private steps, +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Acteon's, and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art. + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning, +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments. +Jove shield your husband from his hounds today! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarthy Cimmerian +Doth make your honor of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequestered from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, +And wandered hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness.--I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colored love. +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The King my brother shall have notice of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long. +Good king to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why, I have patience to endure all this. + +[Enter Chiron and Demetrius.] + + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign and our gracious mother, +Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have ticed me hither to this place, +A barren, detested vale you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe. +Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven. +And when they showed me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here at dead time of the night +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew +And leave me to this miserable death. +And then they called me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect. +And had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it as you love your mother's life, +Or be you not henceforth called my children. + +DEMETRIUS, [drawing his dagger] +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +CHIRON, [drawing his dagger] +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. +[They stab Bassianus.] + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me the poniard! You shall know, my boys, +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her. +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw. +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness; +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +And if she do, I would I were an eunuch! +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when you have the honey you desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.-- +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, thou bearest a woman's face-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak. Away with her. + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS, [to Tamora] +Listen, fair madam. Let it be your glory +To see her tears, but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee. +The milk thou suck'st from her did turn to marble. +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike. +[To Chiron.] Do thou entreat her show a woman's pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark. +Yet have I heard--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion, moved with pity, did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away. +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests. +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful. + +TAMORA +I know not what it means.--Away with her. + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! For my father's sake, +That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee, +Be not obdurate; open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless.-- +Remember, boys, I poured forth tears in vain +To save your brother from the sacrifice, +But fierce Andronicus would not relent. +Therefore away with her, and use her as you will; +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be called a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begged so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? Fond woman, let me go! + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg, and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell. +O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit +Where never man's eye may behold my body. +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee. +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS, [to Lavinia] +Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long! + +LAVINIA, [to Tamora] +No grace, no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature, +The blot and enemy to our general name, +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then, I'll stop your mouth.--Bring thou her +husband. +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. +[They put Bassianus' body in the pit and +exit, carrying off Lavinia.] + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. +[She exits.] + +[Enter Aaron with two of Titus' sons, +Quintus and Martius.] + + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before. +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. +[He falls into the pit.] + +QUINTUS +What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother! Hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O, brother, with the dismal'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON, [aside] +Now will I fetch the King to find them here, +That he thereby may have a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. +[He exits.] + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me and help me out +From this unhallowed and bloodstained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear. +A chilling sweat o'erruns my trembling joints. +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise. +O, tell me who it is, for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood, +All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring that lightens all this hole, +Which like a taper in some monument +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks +And shows the ragged entrails of this pit. +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O, brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS, [reaching into the pit] +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be plucked into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +[He pulls Martius' hand.] +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more. I will not loose again +Till thou art here aloft or I below. +Thou canst not come to me. I come to thee. +[He falls in.] + +[Enter the Emperor Saturninus, with Attendants, +and Aaron the Moor.] + + +SATURNINUS +Along with me! I'll see what hole is here +And what he is that now is leapt into it.-- +Say, who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy sons of old Andronicus, +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest. +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase. +'Tis not an hour since I left them there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left them all alive, +But, out alas, here have we found him dead. + +[Enter Tamora, Titus Andronicus, and Lucius.] + + +TAMORA Where is my lord the King? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound. +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy, +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. +[She giveth Saturnine a letter.] + +SATURNINUS [(reads the letter):] +An if we miss to meet him handsomely, +Sweet huntsman--Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him; +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends. +O Tamora, was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder tree.-- +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS, [to Titus] +Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life.-- +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison. +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered. +[Attendants pull Quintus, Martius, and +the body of Bassianus from the pit.] + +TITUS, [kneeling] +High Emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons-- +Accursed if the faults be proved in them-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! You see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS +I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail, +For by my father's reverend tomb I vow +They shall be ready at your Highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me.-- +Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers. +Let them not speak a word. The guilt is plain. +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the King. +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS, [rising] +Come, Lucius, come. Stay not to talk with them. +[They exit, with Attendants leading Martius and +Quintus and bearing the body of Bassianus.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the Empress' sons, Demetrius and Chiron, +with Lavinia, her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out, +and ravished.] + + +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind; bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON, [to Lavinia] +Go home. Call for sweet water; wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my cause, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. +[Chiron and Demetrius exit.] + +[Enter Marcus from hunting.] + + +MARCUS +Who is this? My niece, that flies away so fast?-- +Cousin, a word. Where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me. +If I do wake, some planet strike me down +That I may slumber an eternal sleep. +Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands +Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And lest thou shouldst detect him cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame, +And notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face, +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee, shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him to ease my mind. +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, why she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind; +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee. +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off +That could have better sewed than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touched them for his life. +Or had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep, +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go and make thy father blind, +For such a sight will blind a father's eye. +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee. +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Judges and Senators with Titus' two sons +(Quintus and Martius) bound, passing on the stage to +the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading.] + + +TITUS +Hear me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, stay. +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed, +For all the frosty nights that I have watched, +And for these bitter tears which now you see, +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks, +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls is not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two-and-twenty sons I never wept +Because they died in honor's lofty bed. +[Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him.] +[They exit with the prisoners as Titus continues speaking.] +For these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears. +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite. +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O Earth, I will befriend thee more with rain +That shall distil from these two ancient ruins +Than youthful April shall with all his showers. +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal springtime on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +[Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn.] + +O reverend tribunes, O gentle aged men, +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death, +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain. +The Tribunes hear you not; no man is by, +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.-- +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS +Why, 'tis no matter, man. If they did hear, +They would not mark me; if they did mark, +They would not pity me. Yet plead I must, +And bootless unto them. +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones, +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale. +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me, +And were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribunes like to these. +A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than +stones; +A stone is silent and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death, +For which attempt the Judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS, [rising] +O happy man, they have befriended thee! +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine. How happy art thou then +From these devourers to be banished. +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +[Enter Marcus with Lavinia.] + + +MARCUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep, +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break. +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS +Will it consume me? Let me see it, then. + +MARCUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.-- +Speak, Lavinia. What accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou cam'st, +And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.-- +Give me a sword. I'll chop off my hands too, +For they have fought for Rome and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use. +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other.-- +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands, +For hands to do Rome service is but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister. Who hath martyred thee? + +MARCUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts, +That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear. + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her who hath done this deed! + +MARCUS +O, thus I found her straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS +It was my dear, and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead. +For now I stand as one upon a rock, +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight +It would have madded me. What shall I do, +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears, +Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee. +Thy husband he is dead, and for his death +Thy brothers are condemned, and dead by this.-- +Look, Marcus!--Ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks as doth the honeydew +Upon a gathered lily almost withered. + +MARCUS +Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband, +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.-- +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed. +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.-- +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips, +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease. +Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius +And thou and I sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks, +How they are stained like meadows yet not dry +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness +And made a brine pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues +Plot some device of further misery +To make us wondered at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS +Patience, dear niece.--Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS +Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs. +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee. +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as limbo is from bliss. + +[Enter Aaron the Moor alone.] + + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor +Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand +And send it to the King; he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart I'll send the Emperor my hand. +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn. +My youth can better spare my blood than you, +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome +And reared aloft the bloody battleax, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert. +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death. +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS +Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS +And for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS +Agree between you. I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS Then I'll go fetch an ax. + +MARCUS But I will use the ax. [Lucius and Marcus exit.] + +TITUS +Come hither, Aaron. I'll deceive them both. +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON, [aside] +If that be called deceit, I will be honest +And never whilst I live deceive men so. +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say ere half an hour pass. +[He cuts off Titus' hand.] + +[Enter Lucius and Marcus again.] + + +TITUS +Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched.-- +Good Aaron, give his Majesty my hand. +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers. Bid him bury it. +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price, +And yet dear, too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus, and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. +[Aside.] Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good and fair men call for grace; +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. +[He exits.] + +TITUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth. [He kneels.] +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call. [(Lavinia kneels.)] What, wouldst thou +kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our +prayers, +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS +O brother, speak with possibility, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes. +When heaven doth weep, doth not the Earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoll'n face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth flow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the Earth. +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my Earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflowed and drowned, +Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +[Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.] + + +MESSENGER +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the Emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons, +And here's thy hand in scorn to thee sent back. +Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked, +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. +[He exits.] + +MARCUS +Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an everburning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal, +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe. +[Lavinia kisses Titus.] + +MARCUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS +Now farewell, flatt'ry; die, Andronicus. +Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here, +Thy other banished son with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs. +Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand, +Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes. +Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still? + +TITUS Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS +Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour. +[Titus and Lavinia rise.] + +TITUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed. +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy +And would usurp upon my wat'ry eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears. +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be returned again +Even in their throats that hath committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about +That I may turn me to each one of you +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head, +And in this hand the other will I bear.-- +And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms. +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy +teeth.-- +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight. +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay. +Hie to the Goths and raise an army there. +And if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. +[All but Lucius exit.] + +LUCIUS +Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father, +The woefull'st man that ever lived in Rome. +Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again. +He loves his pledges dearer than his life. +Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister. +O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! +But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives +But in oblivion and hateful griefs. +If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs +And make proud Saturnine and his empress +Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen. +Now will I to the Goths and raise a power +To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine. +[Lucius exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[A banquet. Enter Titus Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia, +and the boy Young Lucius, with Servants.] + + +TITUS +So, so. Now sit, and look you eat no more +Than will preserve just so much strength in us +As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. +Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot. +Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands +And cannot passionate our tenfold grief +With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine +Is left to tyrannize upon my breast, +Who, when my heart, all mad with misery, +Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, +Then thus I thump it down.-- +Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs, +When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating, +Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. +Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; +Or get some little knife between thy teeth +And just against thy heart make thou a hole, +That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall +May run into that sink and, soaking in, +Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears. + +MARCUS +Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay +Such violent hands upon her tender life. + +TITUS +How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already? +Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. +What violent hands can she lay on her life? +Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands, +To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er +How Troy was burnt and he made miserable? +O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands, +Lest we remember still that we have none.-- +Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk, +As if we should forget we had no hands +If Marcus did not name the word of hands! +Come, let's fall to, and, gentle girl, eat this. +Here is no drink!--Hark, Marcus, what she says. +I can interpret all her martyred signs. +She says she drinks no other drink but tears +Brewed with her sorrow, mashed upon her cheeks.-- +Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought. +In thy dumb action will I be as perfect +As begging hermits in their holy prayers. +Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven, +Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, +But I of these will wrest an alphabet +And by still practice learn to know thy meaning. + +YOUNG LUCIUS, [weeping] +Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments. +Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale. + +MARCUS +Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved, +Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness. + +TITUS +Peace, tender sapling. Thou art made of tears, +And tears will quickly melt thy life away. +[Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.] +What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife? + +MARCUS +At that that I have killed, my lord, a fly. + +TITUS +Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill'st my heart. +Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny; +A deed of death done on the innocent +Becomes not Titus' brother. Get thee gone. +I see thou art not for my company. + +MARCUS +Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly. + +TITUS +"But"? How if that fly had a father and mother? +How would he hang his slender gilded wings +And buzz lamenting doings in the air! +Poor harmless fly, +That, with his pretty buzzing melody, +Came here to make us merry! And thou hast killed +him. + +MARCUS +Pardon me, sir. It was a black, ill-favored fly, +Like to the Empress' Moor. Therefore I killed him. + +TITUS O, O, O! +Then pardon me for reprehending thee, +For thou hast done a charitable deed. +Give me thy knife. I will insult on him, +Flattering myself as if it were the Moor +Come hither purposely to poison me. +There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora. +Ah, sirrah! +Yet I think we are not brought so low +But that between us we can kill a fly +That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor. + +MARCUS +Alas, poor man, grief has so wrought on him +He takes false shadows for true substances. + +TITUS +Come, take away.--Lavinia, go with me. +I'll to thy closet and go read with thee +Sad stories chanced in the times of old.-- +Come, boy, and go with me. Thy sight is young, +And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Lucius' son and Lavinia running after him, and +the boy flies from her with his books under his arm. +Enter Titus and Marcus.] + + +YOUNG LUCIUS +Help, grandsire, help! My aunt Lavinia +Follows me everywhere, I know not why.-- +Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!-- +Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean. + +MARCUS +Stand by me, Lucius. Do not fear thine aunt. + +TITUS +She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm. + +YOUNG LUCIUS +Ay, when my father was in Rome she did. + +MARCUS +What means my niece Lavinia by these signs? + +TITUS +Fear her not, Lucius. Somewhat doth she mean. +See, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee. +Somewhither would she have thee go with her. +Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care +Read to her sons than she hath read to thee +Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator. + +MARCUS +Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus? + +YOUNG LUCIUS +My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, +Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her; +For I have heard my grandsire say full oft, +Extremity of griefs would make men mad, +And I have read that Hecuba of Troy +Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear, +Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt +Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did, +And would not but in fury fright my youth, +Which made me down to throw my books and fly, +Causeless, perhaps.--But pardon me, sweet aunt. +And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go, +I will most willingly attend your Ladyship. + +MARCUS Lucius, I will. + +TITUS +How now, Lavinia?--Marcus, what means this? +Some book there is that she desires to see.-- +Which is it, girl, of these?--Open them, boy.-- +[To Lavinia.] But thou art deeper read and better +skilled. +Come and take choice of all my library, +And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens +Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.-- +Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus? + +MARCUS +I think she means that there were more than one +Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was, +Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. + +TITUS +Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so? + +YOUNG LUCIUS +Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis. +My mother gave it me. + +MARCUS For love of her that's gone, +Perhaps, she culled it from among the rest. + +TITUS +Soft! So busily she turns the leaves. +Help her! What would she find?--Lavinia, shall I read? +This is the tragic tale of Philomel, +And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape. +And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy. + +MARCUS +See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves. + +TITUS +Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, +Ravished and wronged as Philomela was, +Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods? +See, see! Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt-- +O, had we never, never hunted there!-- +Patterned by that the poet here describes, +By nature made for murders and for rapes. + +MARCUS +O, why should nature build so foul a den, +Unless the gods delight in tragedies? + +TITUS +Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends, +What Roman lord it was durst do the deed. +Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, +That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed? + +MARCUS +Sit down, sweet niece.--Brother, sit down by me. +[They sit.] +Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury +Inspire me, that I may this treason find.-- +My lord, look here.--Look here, Lavinia. +[He writes his name with his staff and guides it +with feet and mouth.] +This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst, +This after me. I have writ my name +Without the help of any hand at all. +Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift! +Write thou, good niece, and here display at last +What God will have discovered for revenge. +Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, +That we may know the traitors and the truth. +[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it +with her stumps and writes.] +O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ? + +TITUS +"Stuprum. Chiron, Demetrius." + +MARCUS +What, what! The lustful sons of Tamora +Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? + +TITUS Magni Dominator poli, +Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides? + +MARCUS +O, calm thee, gentle lord, although I know +There is enough written upon this earth +To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts +And arm the minds of infants to exclaims. +My lord, kneel down with me.--Lavinia, kneel.-- +And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope, +[They all kneel.] +And swear with me--as, with the woeful fere +And father of that chaste dishonored dame, +Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece' rape-- +That we will prosecute by good advice +Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths, +And see their blood or die with this reproach. +[They rise.] + +TITUS +'Tis sure enough, an you knew how. +But if you hunt these bearwhelps, then beware; +The dam will wake an if she wind you once. +She's with the lion deeply still in league, +And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back; +And when he sleeps will she do what she list. +You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone. +And come, I will go get a leaf of brass, +And with a gad of steel will write these words, +And lay it by. The angry northern wind +Will blow these sands like Sibyl's leaves abroad, +And where's our lesson then?--Boy, what say you? + +YOUNG LUCIUS +I say, my lord, that if I were a man, +Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe +For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome. + +MARCUS +Ay, that's my boy! Thy father hath full oft +For his ungrateful country done the like. + +YOUNG LUCIUS +And, uncle, so will I, an if I live. + +TITUS +Come, go with me into mine armory. +Lucius, I'll fit thee, and withal my boy +Shall carry from me to the Empress' sons +Presents that I intend to send them both. +Come, come. Thou 'lt do my message, wilt thou not? + +YOUNG LUCIUS +Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire. + +TITUS +No, boy, not so. I'll teach thee another course.-- +Lavinia, come.--Marcus, look to my house. +Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court; +Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we'll be waited on. +[All but Marcus exit.] + +MARCUS +O heavens, can you hear a good man groan +And not relent, or not compassion him? +Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy, +That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart +Than foemen's marks upon his battered shield, +But yet so just that he will not revenge. +Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door, and at +the other door young Lucius and another, with a bundle +of weapons and verses writ upon them.] + + +CHIRON +Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius. +He hath some message to deliver us. + +AARON +Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. + +YOUNG LUCIUS +My lords, with all the humbleness I may, +I greet your Honors from Andronicus-- +[Aside.] And pray the Roman gods confound you both. + +DEMETRIUS +Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What's the news? + +YOUNG LUCIUS, [aside] +That you are both deciphered, that's the news, +For villains marked with rape.--May it please you, +My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me +The goodliest weapons of his armory +To gratify your honorable youth, +The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say, +And so I do, and with his gifts present +Your Lordships, that, whenever you have need, +You may be armed and appointed well, +And so I leave you both--[(aside)] like bloody villains. +[He exits, with Attendant.] + +DEMETRIUS +What's here? A scroll, and written round about. +Let's see: +[He reads:] "Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, + Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu." + +CHIRON +O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well. +I read it in the grammar long ago. + +AARON +Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it. +[Aside.] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! +Here's no sound jest. The old man hath found their +guilt +And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines +That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick. +But were our witty empress well afoot, +She would applaud Andronicus' conceit. +But let her rest in her unrest awhile.-- +And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star +Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so, +Captives, to be advanced to this height? +It did me good before the palace gate +To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing. + +DEMETRIUS +But me more good to see so great a lord +Basely insinuate and send us gifts. + +AARON +Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius? +Did you not use his daughter very friendly? + +DEMETRIUS +I would we had a thousand Roman dames +At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust. + +CHIRON +A charitable wish, and full of love! + +AARON +Here lacks but your mother for to say amen. + +CHIRON +And that would she, for twenty thousand more. + +DEMETRIUS +Come, let us go and pray to all the gods +For our beloved mother in her pains. + +AARON, [aside] +Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over. +[Trumpets sound offstage.] + +DEMETRIUS +Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish thus? + +CHIRON +Belike for joy the Emperor hath a son. + +DEMETRIUS Soft, who comes here? + +[Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor child in her arms.] + + +NURSE Good morrow, lords. +O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor? + +AARON +Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all, +Here Aaron is. And what with Aaron now? + +NURSE +O, gentle Aaron, we are all undone! +Now help, or woe betide thee evermore. + +AARON +Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep! +What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms? + +NURSE +O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye, +Our empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace. +She is delivered, lords, she is delivered. + +AARON To whom? + +NURSE I mean, she is brought abed. + +AARON +Well, God give her good rest. What hath he sent her? + +NURSE A devil. + +AARON +Why, then she is the devil's dam. A joyful issue! + +NURSE +A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue! +Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad +Amongst the fair-faced breeders of our clime. +The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal, +And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point. + +AARON +Zounds, you whore, is black so base a hue? +[To the baby.] Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous +blossom, sure. + +DEMETRIUS Villain, what hast thou done? + +AARON That which thou canst not undo. + +CHIRON Thou hast undone our mother. + +AARON Villain, I have done thy mother. + +DEMETRIUS +And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her. +Woe to her chance, and damned her loathed choice! +Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend! + +CHIRON It shall not live. + +AARON It shall not die. + +NURSE +Aaron, it must. The mother wills it so. + +AARON +What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I +Do execution on my flesh and blood. + +DEMETRIUS +I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point. +Nurse, give it me. My sword shall soon dispatch it. + +AARON, [taking the baby] +Sooner this sword shall plow thy bowels up! +Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother? +Now, by the burning tapers of the sky +That shone so brightly when this boy was got, +He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point +That touches this my firstborn son and heir. +I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus +With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood, +Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war +Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands. +What, what, you sanguine, shallow-hearted boys, +You white-limed walls, you alehouse painted signs! +Coal-black is better than another hue +In that it scorns to bear another hue; +For all the water in the ocean +Can never turn the swan's black legs to white, +Although she lave them hourly in the flood. +Tell the Empress from me, I am of age +To keep mine own, excuse it how she can. + +DEMETRIUS +Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus? + +AARON +My mistress is my mistress, this myself, +The vigor and the picture of my youth. +This before all the world do I prefer; +This maugre all the world will I keep safe, +Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome. + +DEMETRIUS +By this our mother is forever shamed. + +CHIRON +Rome will despise her for this foul escape. + +NURSE +The Emperor in his rage will doom her death. + +CHIRON +I blush to think upon this ignomy. + +AARON +Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears. +Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing +The close enacts and counsels of thy heart. +Here's a young lad framed of another leer. +Look how the black slave smiles upon the father, +As who should say "Old lad, I am thine own." +He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed +Of that self blood that first gave life to you, +And from that womb where you imprisoned were +He is enfranchised and come to light. +Nay, he is your brother by the surer side, +Although my seal be stamped in his face. + +NURSE +Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress? + +DEMETRIUS +Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, +And we will all subscribe to thy advice. +Save thou the child, so we may all be safe. + +AARON +Then sit we down, and let us all consult. +My son and I will have the wind of you. +Keep there. Now talk at pleasure of your safety. + +DEMETRIUS, [to the Nurse] +How many women saw this child of his? + +AARON +Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league, +I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor, +The chafed boar, the mountain lioness, +The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms. +[To the Nurse.] But say again, how many saw the +child? + +NURSE +Cornelia the midwife and myself, +And no one else but the delivered Empress. + +AARON +The Empress, the midwife, and yourself. +Two may keep counsel when the third's away. +Go to the Empress; tell her this I said. +[He kills her.] +"Wheak, wheak"! So cries a pig prepared to the spit. + +DEMETRIUS +What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this? + +AARON +O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy. +Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours, +A long-tongued babbling gossip? No, lords, no. +And now be it known to you my full intent: +Not far one Muliteus my countryman +His wife but yesternight was brought to bed. +His child is like to her, fair as you are. +Go pack with him, and give the mother gold, +And tell them both the circumstance of all, +And how by this their child shall be advanced +And be received for the Emperor's heir, +And substituted in the place of mine, +To calm this tempest whirling in the court; +And let the Emperor dandle him for his own. +Hark you, lords, you see I have given her physic, +[indicating the Nurse] +And you must needs bestow her funeral. +The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms. +This done, see that you take no longer days, +But send the midwife presently to me. +The midwife and the nurse well made away, +Then let the ladies tattle what they please. + +CHIRON +Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air +With secrets. + +DEMETRIUS For this care of Tamora, +Herself and hers are highly bound to thee. +[Demetrius and Chiron exit, +carrying the Nurse's body.] + +AARON +Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies, +There to dispose this treasure in mine arms +And secretly to greet the Empress' friends.-- +Come on, you thick-lipped slave, I'll bear you hence, +For it is you that puts us to our shifts. +I'll make you feed on berries and on roots, +And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat, +And cabin in a cave, and bring you up +To be a warrior and command a camp. +[He exits with the baby.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Titus, old Marcus, his son Publius, young +Lucius, and other gentlemen (Caius and Sempronius) +with bows, and Titus bears the arrows with letters on +the ends of them.] + + +TITUS +Come, Marcus, come. Kinsmen, this is the way.-- +Sir boy, let me see your archery. +Look you draw home enough and 'tis there straight.-- +Terras Astraea reliquit. +Be you remembered, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.-- +Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall +Go sound the ocean and cast your nets; +Happily you may catch her in the sea; +Yet there's as little justice as at land. +No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it. +'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade, +And pierce the inmost center of the Earth. +Then, when you come to Pluto's region, +I pray you, deliver him this petition. +Tell him it is for justice and for aid, +And that it comes from old Andronicus, +Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome. +Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable +What time I threw the people's suffrages +On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me. +Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all, +And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched. +This wicked emperor may have shipped her hence, +And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice. + +MARCUS +O Publius, is not this a heavy case +To see thy noble uncle thus distract? + +PUBLIUS +Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns +By day and night t' attend him carefully, +And feed his humor kindly as we may, +Till time beget some careful remedy. + +MARCUS +Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy +But ... +Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war +Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude, +And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine. + +TITUS +Publius, how now? How now, my masters? +What, have you met with her? + +PUBLIUS +No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word, +If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall. +Marry, for Justice, she is so employed, +He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else, +So that perforce you must needs stay a time. + +TITUS +He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. +I'll dive into the burning lake below +And pull her out of Acheron by the heels. +Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we, +No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size, +But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back, +Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can +bear; +And sith there's no justice in Earth nor hell, +We will solicit heaven and move the gods +To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs. +Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus. +[He gives them the arrows.] +"Ad Jovem," that's for you;--here, "Ad Apollinem";-- +"Ad Martem," that's for myself;-- +Here, boy, "to Pallas";--here, "to Mercury";-- +"To Saturn," Caius--not to Saturnine! +You were as good to shoot against the wind. +To it, boy!--Marcus, loose when I bid. +Of my word, I have written to effect; +There's not a god left unsolicited. + +MARCUS +Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court. +We will afflict the Emperor in his pride. + +TITUS +Now, masters, draw. [(They shoot.)] O, well said, +Lucius! +Good boy, in Virgo's lap! Give it Pallas. + +MARCUS +My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon. +Your letter is with Jupiter by this. + +TITUS +Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done? +See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns! + +MARCUS +This was the sport, my lord; when Publius shot, +The Bull, being galled, gave Aries such a knock +That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court, +And who should find them but the Empress' villain? +She laughed and told the Moor he should not choose +But give them to his master for a present. + +TITUS +Why, there it goes. God give his Lordship joy! + +[Enter a country fellow with a basket and two +pigeons in it.] + +News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is +come.-- +Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters? +Shall I have Justice? What says Jupiter? + +COUNTRY FELLOW Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that +he hath taken them down again, for the man must +not be hanged till the next week. + +TITUS But what says Jupiter, I ask thee? + +COUNTRY FELLOW Alas, sir, I know not Jubiter; I never +drank with him in all my life. + +TITUS Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? + +COUNTRY FELLOW Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else. + +TITUS Why, didst thou not come from heaven? + +COUNTRY FELLOW From heaven? Alas, sir, I never +came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press +to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with +my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter +of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal's +men. + +MARCUS, [to Titus] Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to +serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons +to the Emperor from you. + +TITUS Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor +with a grace? + +COUNTRY FELLOW Nay, truly, sir, I could never say +grace in all my life. + +TITUS +Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado, +But give your pigeons to the Emperor. +By me thou shalt have justice at his hands. +Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy +charges.--Give me pen and ink.--Sirrah, can you +with a grace deliver up a supplication? +[He writes.] + +COUNTRY FELLOW Ay, sir. + +TITUS Then here is a supplication for you, and when +you come to him, at the first approach you must +kneel, then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, +and then look for your reward. I'll be at +hand, sir. See you do it bravely. +[He hands him a paper.] + +COUNTRY FELLOW I warrant you, sir. Let me alone. + +TITUS +Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it.-- +[He takes the knife and gives it to Marcus.] +Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration, +For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.-- +And when thou hast given it to the Emperor, +Knock at my door and tell me what he says. + +COUNTRY FELLOW God be with you, sir. I will. +[He exits.] + +TITUS Come, Marcus, let us go.--Publius, follow me. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora +and her two sons Chiron and Demetrius, with +Attendants. The Emperor brings the arrows in his +hand that Titus shot at him.] + + +SATURNINUS +Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen +An emperor in Rome thus overborne, +Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent +Of equal justice, used in such contempt? +My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods, +However these disturbers of our peace +Buzz in the people's ears, there naught hath passed +But even with law against the willful sons +Of old Andronicus. And what an if +His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits? +Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks, +His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness? +And now he writes to heaven for his redress! +See, here's "to Jove," and this "to Mercury," +This "to Apollo," this to the god of war. +Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome! +What's this but libeling against the Senate +And blazoning our unjustice everywhere? +A goodly humor is it not, my lords? +As who would say, in Rome no justice were. +But if I live, his feigned ecstasies +Shall be no shelter to these outrages, +But he and his shall know that justice lives +In Saturninus' health, whom, if he sleep, +He'll so awake as he in fury shall +Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives. + +TAMORA +My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, +Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, +Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age, +Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons, +Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his +heart, +And rather comfort his distressed plight +Than prosecute the meanest or the best +For these contempts. [(Aside.)] Why, thus it shall +become +High-witted Tamora to gloze with all. +But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick. +Thy lifeblood out, if Aaron now be wise, +Then is all safe, the anchor in the port. + +[Enter Country Fellow.] + +How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us? + +COUNTRY FELLOW Yea, forsooth, an your Mistresship be +emperial. + +TAMORA +Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor. + +COUNTRY FELLOW 'Tis he!--God and Saint Stephen +give you good e'en. I have brought you a letter and +a couple of pigeons here. +[Saturninus reads the letter.] + +SATURNINUS +Go, take him away, and hang him presently. + +COUNTRY FELLOW How much money must I have? + +TAMORA Come, sirrah, you must be hanged. + +COUNTRY FELLOW Hanged! By 'r Lady, then I have +brought up a neck to a fair end. +[He exits with Attendants.] + +SATURNINUS +Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! +Shall I endure this monstrous villainy? +I know from whence this same device proceeds. +May this be borne?--as if his traitorous sons, +That died by law for murder of our brother, +Have by my means been butchered wrongfully! +Go, drag the villain hither by the hair. +Nor age nor honor shall shape privilege. +For this proud mock, I'll be thy slaughterman, +Sly, frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great +In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. + +[Enter nuntius, Aemilius.] + + +SATURNINUS What news with thee, Aemilius? + +AEMILIUS +Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause. +The Goths have gathered head, and with a power +Of high-resolved men bent to the spoil, +They hither march amain under conduct +Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus, +Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do +As much as ever Coriolanus did. + +SATURNINUS +Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths? +These tidings nip me, and I hang the head +As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms. +Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach. +'Tis he the common people love so much. +Myself hath often heard them say, +When I have walked like a private man, +That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully, +And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor. + +TAMORA +Why should you fear? Is not your city strong? + +SATURNINUS +Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius +And will revolt from me to succor him. + +TAMORA +King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name. +Is the sun dimmed that gnats do fly in it? +The eagle suffers little birds to sing +And is not careful what they mean thereby, +Knowing that with the shadow of his wings +He can at pleasure stint their melody. +Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome. +Then cheer thy spirit, for know, thou emperor, +I will enchant the old Andronicus +With words more sweet and yet more dangerous +Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep, +Whenas the one is wounded with the bait, +The other rotted with delicious feed. + +SATURNINUS +But he will not entreat his son for us. + +TAMORA +If Tamora entreat him, then he will, +For I can smooth and fill his aged ears +With golden promises, that were his heart +Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf, +Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. +[To Aemilius.] Go thou before to be our ambassador. +Say that the Emperor requests a parley +Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting +Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus. + +SATURNINUS +Aemilius, do this message honorably, +And if he stand in hostage for his safety, +Bid him demand what pledge will please him best. + +AEMILIUS +Your bidding shall I do effectually. +[He exits.] + +TAMORA +Now will I to that old Andronicus +And temper him with all the art I have +To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths. +And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again, +And bury all thy fear in my devices. + +SATURNINUS +Then go successantly, and plead to him. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Lucius with an army of Goths, with +Drums and Soldiers.] + + +LUCIUS +Approved warriors and my faithful friends, +I have received letters from great Rome +Which signifies what hate they bear their emperor +And how desirous of our sight they are. +Therefore, great lords, be as your titles witness, +Imperious, and impatient of your wrongs, +And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe, +Let him make treble satisfaction. + +FIRST GOTH +Brave slip sprung from the great Andronicus, +Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort, +Whose high exploits and honorable deeds +Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt, +Be bold in us. We'll follow where thou lead'st, +Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day +Led by their master to the flowered fields, +And be avenged on cursed Tamora. + +GOTHS +And as he saith, so say we all with him. + +LUCIUS +I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. +But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth? + +[Enter a Goth, leading of Aaron with his child in his arms.] + + +SECOND GOTH +Renowned Lucius, from our troops I strayed +To gaze upon a ruinous monastery, +And as I earnestly did fix mine eye +Upon the wasted building, suddenly +I heard a child cry underneath a wall. +I made unto the noise, when soon I heard +The crying babe controlled with this discourse: +"Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dame! +Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art, +Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look, +Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor. +But where the bull and cow are both milk white, +They never do beget a coal-black calf. +Peace, villain, peace!"--even thus he rates the babe-- +"For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth +Who, when he knows thou art the Empress' babe, +Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake." +With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him, +Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither +To use as you think needful of the man. + +LUCIUS +O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil +That robbed Andronicus of his good hand; +This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye; +And here's the base fruit of her burning lust.-- +Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey +This growing image of thy fiendlike face? +Why dost not speak? What, deaf? Not a word?-- +A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree, +And by his side his fruit of bastardy. + +AARON +Touch not the boy. He is of royal blood. + +LUCIUS +Too like the sire for ever being good. +First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl, +A sight to vex the father's soul withal. +Get me a ladder. +[A ladder is brought, which Aaron is made to climb.] + +AARON Lucius, save the child +And bear it from me to the Empress. +If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things +That highly may advantage thee to hear. +If thou wilt not, befall what may befall, +I'll speak no more but "Vengeance rot you all!" + +LUCIUS +Say on, and if it please me which thou speak'st, +Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished. + +AARON +And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius, +'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak; +For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres, +Acts of black night, abominable deeds, +Complots of mischief, treason, villainies, +Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed. +And this shall all be buried in my death, +Unless thou swear to me my child shall live. + +LUCIUS +Tell on thy mind. I say thy child shall live. + +AARON +Swear that he shall, and then I will begin. + +LUCIUS +Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god. +That granted, how canst thou believe an oath? + +AARON +What if I do not? As indeed I do not. +Yet, for I know thou art religious +And hast a thing within thee called conscience, +With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies +Which I have seen thee careful to observe, +Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know +An idiot holds his bauble for a god +And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, +To that I'll urge him. Therefore thou shalt vow +By that same god, what god soe'er it be +That thou adorest and hast in reverence, +To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up, +Or else I will discover naught to thee. + +LUCIUS +Even by my god I swear to thee I will. + +AARON +First know thou, I begot him on the Empress. + +LUCIUS +O, most insatiate and luxurious woman! + +AARON +Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity +To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. +'Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus. +They cut thy sister's tongue, and ravished her, +And cut her hands, and trimmed her as thou sawest. + +LUCIUS +O detestable villain, call'st thou that trimming? + +AARON +Why, she was washed, and cut, and trimmed; and +'twas +Trim sport for them which had the doing of it. + +LUCIUS +O, barbarous beastly villains, like thyself! + +AARON +Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them. +That codding spirit had they from their mother, +As sure a card as ever won the set; +That bloody mind I think they learned of me, +As true a dog as ever fought at head. +Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth. +I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole +Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay. +I wrote the letter that thy father found, +And hid the gold within that letter mentioned, +Confederate with the Queen and her two sons. +And what not done that thou hast cause to rue, +Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it? +I played the cheater for thy father's hand, +And, when I had it, drew myself apart +And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter. +I pried me through the crevice of a wall +When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads, +Beheld his tears, and laughed so heartily +That both mine eyes were rainy like to his. +And when I told the Empress of this sport, +She sounded almost at my pleasing tale, +And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses. + +GOTH +What, canst thou say all this and never blush? + +AARON +Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is. + +LUCIUS +Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds? + +AARON +Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. +Even now I curse the day--and yet, I think, +Few come within the compass of my curse-- +Wherein I did not some notorious ill, +As kill a man, or else devise his death; +Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it; +Accuse some innocent and forswear myself; +Set deadly enmity between two friends; +Make poor men's cattle break their necks; +Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night, +And bid the owners quench them with their tears. +Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves +And set them upright at their dear friends' door, +Even when their sorrows almost was forgot, +And on their skins, as on the bark of trees, +Have with my knife carved in Roman letters +"Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead." +But I have done a thousand dreadful things +As willingly as one would kill a fly, +And nothing grieves me heartily indeed +But that I cannot do ten thousand more. + +LUCIUS +Bring down the devil, for he must not die +So sweet a death as hanging presently. +[Aaron is brought down from the ladder.] + +AARON +If there be devils, would I were a devil, +To live and burn in everlasting fire, +So I might have your company in hell +But to torment you with my bitter tongue. + +LUCIUS +Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. + +[Enter Aemilius.] + + +GOTH +My lord, there is a messenger from Rome +Desires to be admitted to your presence. + +LUCIUS Let him come near. [Aemilius comes forward.] +Welcome, Aemilius. What's the news from Rome? + +AEMILIUS +Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths, +The Roman Emperor greets you all by me; +And, for he understands you are in arms, +He craves a parley at your father's house, +Willing you to demand your hostages, +And they shall be immediately delivered. + +GOTH What says our general? + +LUCIUS +Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges +Unto my father and my uncle Marcus, +And we will come. March away. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Tamora and her two sons, disguised.] + + +TAMORA +Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment +I will encounter with Andronicus +And say I am Revenge, sent from below +To join with him and right his heinous wrongs. +Knock at his study, where they say he keeps +To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge. +Tell him Revenge is come to join with him +And work confusion on his enemies. + +[They knock, and Titus (above) opens his study door.] + + +TITUS +Who doth molest my contemplation? +Is it your trick to make me ope the door, +That so my sad decrees may fly away +And all my study be to no effect? +You are deceived, for what I mean to do, +See here, in bloody lines I have set down, +And what is written shall be executed. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am come to talk with thee. + +TITUS +No, not a word. How can I grace my talk, +Wanting a hand to give it action? +Thou hast the odds of me; therefore, no more. + +TAMORA +If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me. + +TITUS +I am not mad. I know thee well enough. +Witness this wretched stump; witness these crimson +lines; +Witness these trenches made by grief and care; +Witness the tiring day and heavy night; +Witness all sorrow that I know thee well +For our proud empress, mighty Tamora. +Is not thy coming for my other hand? + +TAMORA +Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora. +She is thy enemy, and I thy friend. +I am Revenge, sent from th' infernal kingdom +To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind +By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. +Come down and welcome me to this world's light. +Confer with me of murder and of death. +There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place, +No vast obscurity or misty vale +Where bloody murder or detested rape +Can couch for fear but I will find them out, +And in their ears tell them my dreadful name, +Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake. + +TITUS +Art thou Revenge? And art thou sent to me +To be a torment to mine enemies? + +TAMORA +I am. Therefore come down and welcome me. + +TITUS +Do me some service ere I come to thee. +Lo, by thy side, where Rape and Murder stands, +Now give some surance that thou art Revenge: +Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels, +And then I'll come and be thy wagoner, +And whirl along with thee about the globe, +Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet, +To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away, +And find out murderers in their guilty caves. +And when thy car is loaden with their heads, +I will dismount and by thy wagon wheel +Trot like a servile footman all day long, +Even from Hyperion's rising in the east +Until his very downfall in the sea. +And day by day I'll do this heavy task, +So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there. + +TAMORA +These are my ministers and come with me. + +TITUS +Are they thy ministers? What are they called? + +TAMORA +Rape and Murder; therefore called so +'Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men. + +TITUS +Good Lord, how like the Empress' sons they are, +And you the Empress! But we worldly men +Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. +O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee, +And if one arm's embracement will content thee, +I will embrace thee in it by and by. +[He exits above.] + +TAMORA +This closing with him fits his lunacy. +Whate'er I forge to feed his brainsick humors, +Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches, +For now he firmly takes me for Revenge; +And, being credulous in this mad thought, +I'll make him send for Lucius his son; +And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure, +I'll find some cunning practice out of hand +To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths, +Or, at the least, make them his enemies. +See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme. + +[Enter Titus.] + + +TITUS +Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee. +Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house.-- +Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too. +How like the Empress and her sons you are! +Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor. +Could not all hell afford you such a devil? +For well I wot the Empress never wags +But in her company there is a Moor; +And, would you represent our queen aright, +It were convenient you had such a devil. +But welcome as you are. What shall we do? + +TAMORA +What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus? + +DEMETRIUS +Show me a murderer; I'll deal with him. + +CHIRON +Show me a villain that hath done a rape, +And I am sent to be revenged on him. + +TAMORA +Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong, +And I will be revenged on them all. + +TITUS, [to Demetrius] +Look round about the wicked streets of Rome, +And when thou findst a man that's like thyself, +Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer. +[To Chiron.] Go thou with him, and when it is thy +hap +To find another that is like to thee, +Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher. +[To Tamora.] Go thou with them; and in the +Emperor's court +There is a queen attended by a Moor. +Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion, +For up and down she doth resemble thee. +I pray thee, do on them some violent death. +They have been violent to me and mine. + +TAMORA +Well hast thou lessoned us; this shall we do. +But would it please thee, good Andronicus, +To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son, +Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths, +And bid him come and banquet at thy house? +When he is here, even at thy solemn feast, +I will bring in the Empress and her sons, +The Emperor himself, and all thy foes, +And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel, +And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart. +What says Andronicus to this device? + +TITUS, [calling] +Marcus, my brother, 'tis sad Titus calls. + +[Enter Marcus.] + +Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius. +Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths. +Bid him repair to me and bring with him +Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths. +Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are. +Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too +Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them. +This do thou for my love, and so let him, +As he regards his aged father's life. + +MARCUS +This will I do, and soon return again. [Marcus exits.] + +TAMORA +Now will I hence about thy business +And take my ministers along with me. + +TITUS +Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, +Or else I'll call my brother back again +And cleave to no revenge but Lucius. + +TAMORA, [aside to Chiron and Demetrius] +What say you, boys? Will you abide with him +Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor +How I have governed our determined jest? +Yield to his humor, smooth and speak him fair, +And tarry with him till I turn again. + +TITUS, [aside] +I knew them all, though they supposed me mad, +And will o'erreach them in their own devices-- +A pair of cursed hellhounds and their dam! + +DEMETRIUS, [aside to Tamora] +Madam, depart at pleasure. Leave us here. + +TAMORA +Farewell, Andronicus. Revenge now goes +To lay a complot to betray thy foes. + +TITUS +I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell. +[Tamora exits.] + +CHIRON +Tell us, old man, how shall we be employed? + +TITUS +Tut, I have work enough for you to do.-- +Publius, come hither; Caius, and Valentine. + +[Publius, Caius, and Valentine enter.] + + +PUBLIUS What is your will? + +TITUS Know you these two? + +PUBLIUS +The Empress' sons, I take them--Chiron, Demetrius. + +TITUS +Fie, Publius, fie, thou art too much deceived. +The one is Murder, and Rape is the other's name; +And therefore bind them, gentle Publius. +Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them. +Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour, +And now I find it. Therefore bind them sure, +And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. +[Titus exits.] + +CHIRON +Villains, forbear! We are the Empress' sons. + +PUBLIUS +And therefore do we what we are commanded.-- +Stop close their mouths; let them not speak a word. +Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast. + +[Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia +with a basin.] + + +TITUS +Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound.-- +Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me, +But let them hear what fearful words I utter.-- +O villains, Chiron and Demetrius! +Here stands the spring whom you have stained with +mud, +This goodly summer with your winter mixed. +You killed her husband, and for that vile fault +Two of her brothers were condemned to death, +My hand cut off and made a merry jest, +Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear +Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity, +Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced. +What would you say if I should let you speak? +Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace. +Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you. +This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, +Whiles that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold +The basin that receives your guilty blood. +You know your mother means to feast with me, +And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad. +Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust, +And with your blood and it I'll make a paste, +And of the paste a coffin I will rear, +And make two pasties of your shameful heads, +And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam, +Like to the earth swallow her own increase. +This is the feast that I have bid her to, +And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; +For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, +And worse than Procne I will be revenged. +And now prepare your throats.--Lavinia, come, +Receive the blood. [He cuts their throats.] +And when that they are dead, +Let me go grind their bones to powder small, +And with this hateful liquor temper it, +And in that paste let their vile heads be baked. +Come, come, be everyone officious +To make this banquet, which I wish may prove +More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast. +So. Now bring them in, for I'll play the cook +And see them ready against their mother comes. +[They exit, carrying the dead bodies.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron, +Guards, and an Attendant carrying the baby.] + + +LUCIUS +Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind +That I repair to Rome, I am content. + +FIRST GOTH +And ours with thine, befall what fortune will. + +LUCIUS +Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, +This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil. +Let him receive no sust'nance. Fetter him +Till he be brought unto the Empress' face +For testimony of her foul proceedings. +And see the ambush of our friends be strong. +I fear the Emperor means no good to us. + +AARON +Some devil whisper curses in my ear +And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth +The venomous malice of my swelling heart. + +LUCIUS +Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!-- +Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. +[Sound trumpets.] +The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand. +[Guards and Aaron exit.] + +[Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora +with Aemilius, Tribunes, Attendants, and others.] + + +SATURNINUS +What, hath the firmament more suns than one? + +LUCIUS +What boots it thee to call thyself a sun? + +MARCUS +Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle. +These quarrels must be quietly debated. +The feast is ready which the careful Titus +Hath ordained to an honorable end, +For peace, for love, for league and good to Rome. +Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places. + +SATURNINUS Marcus, we will. + +[Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the +dishes, with young Lucius and others, and Lavinia +with a veil over her face.] + + +TITUS +Welcome, my lord;--welcome, dread queen;-- +Welcome, you warlike Goths;--welcome, Lucius;-- +And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor, +'Twill fill your stomachs. Please you eat of it. +[They begin to eat.] + +SATURNINUS +Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus? + +TITUS +Because I would be sure to have all well +To entertain your Highness and your empress. + +TAMORA +We are beholding to you, good Andronicus. + +TITUS +An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.-- +My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: +Was it well done of rash Virginius +To slay his daughter with his own right hand +Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered? + +SATURNINUS It was, Andronicus. + +TITUS Your reason, mighty lord? + +SATURNINUS +Because the girl should not survive her shame, +And by her presence still renew his sorrows. + +TITUS +A reason mighty, strong, and effectual; +A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant +For me, most wretched, to perform the like. +Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee, +And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die. +[He kills Lavinia.] + +SATURNINUS +What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind? + +TITUS +Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind. +I am as woeful as Virginius was, +And have a thousand times more cause than he +To do this outrage, and it now is done. + +SATURNINUS +What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed. + +TITUS +Will 't please you eat?--Will 't please your Highness +feed? + +TAMORA +Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus? + +TITUS +Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius. +They ravished her and cut away her tongue, +And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. + +SATURNINUS +Go fetch them hither to us presently. + +TITUS +Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, +Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, +Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. +'Tis true, 'tis true! Witness my knife's sharp point. +[He stabs the Empress.] + +SATURNINUS +Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed. +[He kills Titus.] + +LUCIUS +Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? +[He kills Saturninus.] +There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. +[A great tumult. Lucius, Marcus, and +others go aloft to the upper stage.] + +MARCUS +You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome, +By uproars severed as a flight of fowl +Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts, +O, let me teach you how to knit again +This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, +These broken limbs again into one body, +Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, +And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, +Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, +Do shameful execution on herself. +But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, +Grave witnesses of true experience, +Cannot induce you to attend my words, +[He turns to Lucius.] +Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor, +When with his solemn tongue he did discourse +To lovesick Dido's sad-attending ear +The story of that baleful burning night +When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam's Troy. +Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears, +Or who hath brought the fatal engine in +That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.-- +My heart is not compact of flint nor steel, +Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, +But floods of tears will drown my oratory +And break my utterance even in the time +When it should move you to attend me most +And force you to commiseration. +Here's Rome's young captain. Let him tell the tale, +While I stand by and weep to hear him speak. + +LUCIUS +Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you +That Chiron and the damned Demetrius +Were they that murdered our emperor's brother, +And they it were that ravished our sister. +For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, +Our father's tears despised, and basely cozened +Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out +And sent her enemies unto the grave; +Lastly, myself unkindly banished, +The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out +To beg relief among Rome's enemies, +Who drowned their enmity in my true tears +And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend. +I am the turned-forth, be it known to you, +That have preserved her welfare in my blood +And from her bosom took the enemy's point, +Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body. +Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I; +My scars can witness, dumb although they are, +That my report is just and full of truth. +But soft, methinks I do digress too much, +Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me, +For when no friends are by, men praise themselves. + +MARCUS +Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child. +Of this was Tamora delivered, +The issue of an irreligious Moor, +Chief architect and plotter of these woes. +The villain is alive in Titus' house, +And as he is to witness, this is true. +Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge +These wrongs unspeakable, past patience, +Or more than any living man could bear. +Now have you heard the truth. What say you, +Romans? +Have we done aught amiss? Show us wherein, +And from the place where you behold us pleading, +The poor remainder of Andronici +Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves, +And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls, +And make a mutual closure of our house. +Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall, +Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall. + +AEMILIUS +Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, +And bring our emperor gently in thy hand, +Lucius our emperor, for well I know +The common voice do cry it shall be so. + +ROMANS +Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal emperor! + +MARCUS, [to Attendants] +Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house, +And hither hale that misbelieving Moor +To be adjudged some direful slaught'ring death +As punishment for his most wicked life. +[Attendants exit. Lucius and Marcus +come down from the upper stage.] + +ROMANS +Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor! + +LUCIUS +Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so +To heal Rome's harms and wipe away her woe! +But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, +For nature puts me to a heavy task. +Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near +To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. +[He kisses Titus.] +O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, +These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face, +The last true duties of thy noble son. + +MARCUS +Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, +Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips. +[He kisses Titus.] +O, were the sum of these that I should pay +Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them. + +LUCIUS, [to Young Lucius] +Come hither, boy. Come, come, and learn of us +To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well. +Many a time he danced thee on his knee, +Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; +Many a story hath he told to thee, +And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind +And talk of them when he was dead and gone. + +MARCUS +How many thousand times hath these poor lips, +When they were living, warmed themselves on thine! +O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss. +Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave. +Do them that kindness, and take leave of them. + +YOUNG LUCIUS +O grandsire, grandsire, ev'n with all my heart +Would I were dead so you did live again! +[He kisses Titus.] +O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping. +My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth. + +[Enter Aaron with Guards.] + + +ROMAN +You sad Andronici, have done with woes. +Give sentence on this execrable wretch +That hath been breeder of these dire events. + +LUCIUS +Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him. +There let him stand and rave and cry for food. +If anyone relieves or pities him, +For the offense he dies. This is our doom. +Some stay to see him fastened in the earth. + +AARON +Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb? +I am no baby, I, that with base prayers +I should repent the evils I have done. +Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did +Would I perform, if I might have my will. +If one good deed in all my life I did, +I do repent it from my very soul. +[Aaron is led off by Guards.] + +LUCIUS +Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence, +And give him burial in his fathers' grave. +My father and Lavinia shall forthwith +Be closed in our household's monument. +As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora, +No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed; +No mournful bell shall ring her burial; +But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey. +Her life was beastly and devoid of pity, +And being dead, let birds on her take pity. +[They exit, carrying the dead bodies.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/troilus-and-cressida_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/troilus-and-cressida_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a68c871 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/troilus-and-cressida_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5668 @@ +Troilus and Cressida +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/troilus-and-cressida/ +Created on May 11, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.1 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +PROLOGUE + +The Trojans +PRIAM, king of Troy +CASSANDRA, Priam's daughter, a soothsayer +Priam's sons + TROILUS + HECTOR + PARIS + HELENUS + DEIPHOBUS + BASTARD +ANDROMACHE, Hector's wife +Trojan leaders + AENEAS + ANTENOR +TROILUS'S BOY +TROILUS'S MAN +PARIS'S SERVINGMAN +CRESSIDA +CALCHAS, her father +PANDARUS, her uncle +ALEXANDER, her servant + +The Greeks +Greek leaders + AGAMEMNON, the general + NESTOR + ULYSSES + DIOMEDES + MENELAUS, brother to Agamemnon + AJAX + ACHILLES +HELEN, Menelaus's wife and queen +PATROCLUS, Achilles' favorite companion +MYRMIDONS, Achilles' soldiers +THERSITES, cynical critic +DIOMEDES' SERVINGMAN +Other Trojans and Greeks, Common Soldiers of Troy and Greece, Trumpeters, Attendants, Torchbearers + +A never writer to an ever reader: news. + +Eternal reader, you have here a new play, never staled +with the stage, never clapperclawed with the palms of +the vulgar, and yet passing full of the palm comical, for +it is a birth of your brain that never undertook anything +comical vainly. And were but the vain names of comedies +changed for the titles of commodities, or of plays +for pleas, you should see all those grand censors, that +now style them such vanities, flock to them for the +main grace of their gravities, especially this author’s +comedies, that are so framed to the life that they serve +for the most common commentaries of all the actions +of our lives, showing such a dexterity and power of wit +that the most displeased with plays are pleased with +his comedies. And all such dull and heavy-witted +worldlings as were never capable of the wit of a comedy, +coming by report of them to his representations, +have found that wit there that they never found in +themselves and have parted better witted than they +came, feeling an edge of wit set upon them more than +ever they dreamed they had brain to grind it on. So +much and such savored salt of wit is in his comedies +that they seem, for their height of pleasure, to be born +in that sea that brought forth Venus. Amongst all there +is none more witty than this; and had I time, I would +comment upon it, though I know it needs not, for so +much as will make you think your testern well +bestowed, but for so much worth as even poor I know +to be stuffed in it. It deserves such a labor as well as the +best comedy in Terence or Plautus. And believe this, +that when he is gone and his comedies out of sale, you +will scramble for them and set up a new English +Inquisition. Take this for a warning, and at the peril of +your pleasure’s loss, and judgment’s, refuse not nor like +this the less for not being sullied with the smoky breath +of the multitude, but thank fortune for the scape it +hath made amongst you, since by the grand possessors’ +wills I believe you should have prayed for them rather +than been prayed. And so I leave all such to be prayed +for, for the states of their wits’ healths, that will not +praise it. Vale. + + +[Enter the Prologue in armor.] + + +PROLOGUE +In Troy there lies the scene. From isles of Greece +The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed, +Have to the port of Athens sent their ships +Fraught with the ministers and instruments +Of cruel war. Sixty and nine, that wore +Their crownets regal, from th' Athenian bay +Put forth toward Phrygia, and their vow is made +To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures +The ravished Helen, Menelaus' queen, +With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel. +To Tenedos they come, +And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge +Their warlike fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains +The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch +Their brave pavilions. Priam's six-gated city-- +Dardan and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, +And Antenorides--with massy staples +And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, +Spar up the sons of Troy. +Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits +On one and other side, Trojan and Greek, +Sets all on hazard. And hither am I come, +A prologue armed, but not in confidence +Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited +In like conditions as our argument, +To tell you, fair beholders, that our play +Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, +Beginning in the middle, starting thence away +To what may be digested in a play. +Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are. +Now, good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. +[Prologue exits.] + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Pandarus and Troilus.] + + +TROILUS +Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again. +Why should I war without the walls of Troy +That find such cruel battle here within? +Each Trojan that is master of his heart, +Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none. + +PANDARUS Will this gear ne'er be mended? + +TROILUS +The Greeks are strong and skilful to their strength, +Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; +But I am weaker than a woman's tear, +Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, +Less valiant than the virgin in the night, +And skilless as unpracticed infancy. + +PANDARUS Well, I have told you enough of this. For my +part, I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will +have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding. + +TROILUS Have I not tarried? + +PANDARUS Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the +bolting. + +TROILUS Have I not tarried? + +PANDARUS Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the +leavening. + +TROILUS Still have I tarried. + +PANDARUS Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word +hereafter the kneading, the making of the cake, the +heating the oven, and the baking. Nay, you must stay +the cooling too, or you may chance burn your lips. + +TROILUS +Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, +Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do. +At Priam's royal table do I sit +And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-- +So, traitor! "When she comes"? When is she +thence? + +PANDARUS Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever +I saw her look, or any woman else. + +TROILUS +I was about to tell thee: when my heart, +As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, +Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, +I have, as when the sun doth light a-scorn, +Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile; +But sorrow that is couched in seeming gladness +Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. + +PANDARUS An her hair were not somewhat darker than +Helen's--well, go to--there were no more comparison +between the women. But, for my part, she is +my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it, praise +her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, +as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's +wit, but-- + +TROILUS +O, Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus: +When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drowned, +Reply not in how many fathoms deep +They lie indrenched. I tell thee I am mad +In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st she is fair; +Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart +Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; +Handiest in thy discourse--O--that her hand, +In whose comparison all whites are ink +Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure +The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense +Hard as the palm of plowman. This thou tell'st me, +As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her. +But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm +Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me +The knife that made it. + +PANDARUS I speak no more than truth. + +TROILUS Thou dost not speak so much. + +PANDARUS Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she +is. If she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be +not, she has the mends in her own hands. + +TROILUS Good Pandarus--how now, Pandarus? + +PANDARUS I have had my labor for my travail, ill thought +on of her, and ill thought on of you; gone between +and between, but small thanks for my labor. + +TROILUS What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with +me? + +PANDARUS Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not +so fair as Helen; an she were not kin to me, she +would be as fair o' Friday as Helen is on Sunday. +But what care I? I care not an she were a blackamoor; +'tis all one to me. + +TROILUS Say I she is not fair? + +PANDARUS I do not care whether you do or no. She's a +fool to stay behind her father. Let her to the Greeks, +and so I'll tell her the next time I see her. For my +part, I'll meddle nor make no more i' th' matter. + +TROILUS Pandarus-- + +PANDARUS Not I. + +TROILUS Sweet Pandarus-- + +PANDARUS Pray you speak no more to me. I will leave +all as I found it, and there an end. [He exits.] + +[Sound alarum.] + +TROILUS +Peace, you ungracious clamors! Peace, rude sounds! +Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair +When with your blood you daily paint her thus. +I cannot fight upon this argument; +It is too starved a subject for my sword. +But Pandarus--O gods, how do you plague me! +I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar, +And he's as tetchy to be wooed to woo +As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. +Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphnes love, +What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we. +Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl. +Between our Ilium and where she resides, +Let it be called the wild and wand'ring flood, +Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar +Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark. + +[Alarum. Enter Aeneas.] + + +AENEAS +How now, Prince Troilus? Wherefore not afield? + +TROILUS +Because not there. This woman's answer sorts, +For womanish it is to be from thence. +What news, Aeneas, from the field today? + +AENEAS +That Paris is returned home, and hurt. + +TROILUS +By whom, Aeneas? + +AENEAS Troilus, by Menelaus. + +TROILUS +Let Paris bleed. 'Tis but a scar to scorn; +Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn. +[Alarum.] + +AENEAS +Hark what good sport is out of town today! + +TROILUS +Better at home, if "would I might" were "may." +But to the sport abroad. Are you bound thither? + +AENEAS +In all swift haste. + +TROILUS Come, go we then together. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Cressida and her man Alexander.] + + +CRESSIDA +Who were those went by? + +ALEXANDER Queen Hecuba and Helen. + +CRESSIDA +And whither go they? + +ALEXANDER Up to the eastern tower, +Whose height commands as subject all the vale, +To see the battle. Hector, whose patience +Is as a virtue fixed, today was moved. +He chid Andromache and struck his armorer; +And, like as there were husbandry in war, +Before the sun rose he was harnessed light, +And to the field goes he, where every flower +Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw +In Hector's wrath. + +CRESSIDA What was his cause of anger? + +ALEXANDER +The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks +A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector. +They call him Ajax. + +CRESSIDA Good; and what of him? + +ALEXANDER +They say he is a very man per se +And stands alone. + +CRESSIDA So do all men unless they are drunk, sick, +or have no legs. + +ALEXANDER This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts +of their particular additions. He is as valiant as the +lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant, a +man into whom nature hath so crowded humors +that his valor is crushed into folly, his folly sauced +with discretion. There is no man hath a virtue that +he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint +but he carries some stain of it. He is melancholy +without cause and merry against the hair. He hath +the joints of everything, but everything so out of +joint that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and +no use, or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. + +CRESSIDA But how should this man that makes me +smile make Hector angry? + +ALEXANDER They say he yesterday coped Hector in the +battle and struck him down, the disdain and +shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting +and waking. + +[Enter Pandarus.] + + +CRESSIDA Who comes here? + +ALEXANDER Madam, your Uncle Pandarus. + +CRESSIDA Hector's a gallant man. + +ALEXANDER As may be in the world, lady. + +PANDARUS What's that? What's that? + +CRESSIDA Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus. + +PANDARUS Good morrow, Cousin Cressid. What do you +talk of?-- Good morrow, Alexander.--How do you, +cousin? When were you at Ilium? + +CRESSIDA This morning, uncle. + +PANDARUS What were you talking of when I came? +Was Hector armed and gone ere you came to +Ilium? Helen was not up, was she? + +CRESSIDA Hector was gone, but Helen was not up. + +PANDARUS E'en so. Hector was stirring early. + +CRESSIDA That were we talking of, and of his anger. + +PANDARUS Was he angry? + +CRESSIDA So he says here. + +PANDARUS True, he was so. I know the cause too. He'll +lay about him today, I can tell them that; and +there's Troilus will not come far behind him. Let +them take heed of Troilus, I can tell them that too. + +CRESSIDA What, is he angry too? + +PANDARUS Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of +the two. + +CRESSIDA O Jupiter, there's no comparison. + +PANDARUS What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do +you know a man if you see him? + +CRESSIDA Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him. + +PANDARUS Well, I say Troilus is Troilus. + +CRESSIDA Then you say as I say, for I am sure he is not +Hector. + +PANDARUS No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees. + +CRESSIDA 'Tis just to each of them; he is himself. + +PANDARUS Himself? Alas, poor Troilus, I would he were. + +CRESSIDA So he is. + +PANDARUS Condition I had gone barefoot to India. + +CRESSIDA He is not Hector. + +PANDARUS Himself? No, he's not himself. Would he +were himself! Well, the gods are above. Time must +friend or end. Well, Troilus, well, I would my heart +were in her body. No, Hector is not a better man +than Troilus. + +CRESSIDA Excuse me. + +PANDARUS He is elder. + +CRESSIDA Pardon me, pardon me. + +PANDARUS Th' other's not come to 't. You shall tell me +another tale when th' other's come to 't. Hector +shall not have his wit this year. + +CRESSIDA He shall not need it, if he have his own. + +PANDARUS Nor his qualities. + +CRESSIDA No matter. + +PANDARUS Nor his beauty. + +CRESSIDA 'Twould not become him. His own 's better. + +PANDARUS You have no judgment, niece. Helen herself +swore th' other day that Troilus, for a brown favor-- +for so 'tis, I must confess--not brown neither-- + +CRESSIDA No, but brown. + +PANDARUS Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. + +CRESSIDA To say the truth, true and not true. + +PANDARUS She praised his complexion above Paris'. + +CRESSIDA Why, Paris hath color enough. + +PANDARUS So he has. + +CRESSIDA Then Troilus should have too much. If she +praised him above, his complexion is higher than +his. He having color enough, and the other higher, +is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I +had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended +Troilus for a copper nose. + +PANDARUS I swear to you, I think Helen loves him better +than Paris. + +CRESSIDA Then she's a merry Greek indeed. + +PANDARUS Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him +th' other day into the compassed window--and +you know he has not past three or four hairs on his +chin-- + +CRESSIDA Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring +his particulars therein to a total. + +PANDARUS Why, he is very young, and yet will he within +three pound lift as much as his brother Hector. + +CRESSIDA Is he so young a man and so old a lifter? + +PANDARUS But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she +came and puts me her white hand to his cloven +chin-- + +CRESSIDA Juno have mercy! How came it cloven? + +PANDARUS Why, you know 'tis dimpled. I think his +smiling becomes him better than any man in all +Phrygia. + +CRESSIDA O, he smiles valiantly. + +PANDARUS Does he not? + +CRESSIDA O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn. + +PANDARUS Why, go to, then. But to prove to you that +Helen loves Troilus-- + +CRESSIDA Troilus will stand to the proof if you'll +prove it so. + +PANDARUS Troilus? Why, he esteems her no more than +I esteem an addle egg. + +CRESSIDA If you love an addle egg as well as you love +an idle head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell. + +PANDARUS I cannot choose but laugh to think how she +tickled his chin. Indeed, she has a marvellous +white hand, I must needs confess-- + +CRESSIDA Without the rack. + +PANDARUS And she takes upon her to spy a white hair +on his chin. + +CRESSIDA Alas, poor chin! Many a wart is richer. + +PANDARUS But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba +laughed that her eyes ran o'er-- + +CRESSIDA With millstones. + +PANDARUS And Cassandra laughed-- + +CRESSIDA But there was a more temperate fire under +the pot of her eyes. Did her eyes run o'er too? + +PANDARUS And Hector laughed. + +CRESSIDA At what was all this laughing? + +PANDARUS Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on +Troilus' chin. + +CRESSIDA An 't had been a green hair, I should have +laughed too. + +PANDARUS They laughed not so much at the hair as at +his pretty answer. + +CRESSIDA What was his answer? + +PANDARUS Quoth she "Here's but two-and-fifty hairs +on your chin, and one of them is white." + +CRESSIDA This is her question. + +PANDARUS That's true, make no question of that. "Two-and-fifty +hairs," quoth he, "and one white. That +white hair is my father, and all the rest are his +sons." "Jupiter!" quoth she, "which of these hairs +is Paris, my husband?" "The forked one," quoth he. +"Pluck 't out, and give it him." But there was such +laughing, and Helen so blushed, and Paris so +chafed, and all the rest so laughed that it passed. + +CRESSIDA So let it now, for it has been a great while +going by. + +PANDARUS Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday. +Think on 't. + +CRESSIDA So I do. + +PANDARUS I'll be sworn 'tis true. He will weep you an +'twere a man born in April. + +CRESSIDA And I'll spring up in his tears an 'twere a nettle +against May. [Sound a retreat.] + +PANDARUS Hark, they are coming from the field. Shall +we stand up here and see them as they pass toward +Ilium? Good niece, do, sweet niece Cressida. + +CRESSIDA At your pleasure. + +PANDARUS Here, here, here's an excellent place. Here +we may see most bravely. I'll tell you them all by +their names as they pass by, but mark Troilus +above the rest. +[They cross the stage; Alexander exits.] + +CRESSIDA Speak not so loud. + +[Enter Aeneas and crosses the stage.] + + + +PANDARUS That's Aeneas. Is not that a brave man? He's +one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark +Troilus; you shall see anon. + +[Enter Antenor and crosses the stage.] + + + +CRESSIDA Who's that? + +PANDARUS That's Antenor. He has a shrewd wit, I can +tell you, and he's a man good enough. He's one o' +th' soundest judgments in Troy whosoever; and a +proper man of person. When comes Troilus? I'll +show you Troilus anon. If he see me, you shall see +him nod at me. + +CRESSIDA Will he give you the nod? + +PANDARUS You shall see. + +CRESSIDA If he do, the rich shall have more. + +[Enter Hector and crosses the stage.] + + + +PANDARUS That's Hector, that, that, look you, that. +There's a fellow!--Go thy way, Hector!--There's a +brave man, niece. O brave Hector! Look how he +looks. There's a countenance! Is 't not a brave man? + +CRESSIDA O, a brave man! + +PANDARUS Is he not? It does a man's heart good. Look +you what hacks are on his helmet. Look you yonder, +do you see? Look you there. There's no jesting; +there's laying on, take 't off who will, as they say. +There be hacks. + +CRESSIDA Be those with swords? + +PANDARUS Swords, anything, he cares not. An the devil +come to him, it's all one. By God's lid, it does one's +heart good. + +[Enter Paris and crosses the stage.] + + +Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris! Look you +yonder, niece. Is 't not a gallant man too? Is 't not? +Why, this is brave now. Who said he came hurt +home today? He's not hurt. Why, this will do +Helen's heart good now, ha? Would I could see +Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon. + +[Enter Helenus and crosses the stage.] + + + +CRESSIDA Who's that? + +PANDARUS That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. +That's Helenus. I think he went not forth today. +That's Helenus. + +CRESSIDA Can Helenus fight, uncle? + +PANDARUS Helenus? No. Yes, he'll fight indifferent +well. I marvel where Troilus is. Hark, do you not +hear the people cry "Troilus"? Helenus is a priest. + +[Enter Troilus and crosses the stage.] + + + +CRESSIDA What sneaking fellow comes yonder? + +PANDARUS Where? Yonder? That's Deiphobus. 'Tis +Troilus! There's a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus, +the prince of chivalry! + +CRESSIDA Peace, for shame, peace. + +PANDARUS Mark him. Note him. O brave Troilus! Look +well upon him, niece. Look you how his sword is +bloodied and his helm more hacked than Hector's, +and how he looks, and how he goes. O admirable +youth! He never saw three and twenty.--Go thy +way, Troilus; go thy way!--Had I a sister were a +Grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his +choice. O admirable man! Paris? Paris is dirt to +him; and I warrant Helen, to change, would give +an eye to boot. + +[Enter Common Soldiers and cross the stage.] + + + +CRESSIDA Here comes more. + +PANDARUS Asses, fools, dolts, chaff and bran, chaff and +bran, porridge after meat. I could live and die in +the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look; the +eagles are gone. Crows and daws, crows and daws! +I had rather be such a man as Troilus than +Agamemnon and all Greece. + +CRESSIDA There is amongst the Greeks Achilles, a better +man than Troilus. + +PANDARUS Achilles? A drayman, a porter, a very camel! + +CRESSIDA Well, well. + +PANDARUS "Well, well"? Why, have you any discretion? +Have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is +not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, +learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality and +such-like the spice and salt that season a man? + +CRESSIDA Ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with +no date in the pie, for then the man's date is out. + +PANDARUS You are such a woman a man knows not at +what ward you lie. + +CRESSIDA Upon my back to defend my belly, upon my +wit to defend my wiles, upon my secrecy to defend +mine honesty, my mask to defend my beauty, and +you to defend all these; and at all these wards I lie, +at a thousand watches. + +PANDARUS Say one of your watches. + +CRESSIDA Nay, I'll watch you for that, and that's one of +the chiefest of them too. If I cannot ward what I +would not have hit, I can watch you for telling how +I took the blow--unless it swell past hiding, and +then it's past watching. + +PANDARUS You are such another! + +[Enter Troilus's Boy.] + + +BOY Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. + +PANDARUS Where? + +BOY At your own house. There he unarms him. + +PANDARUS Good boy, tell him I come. [Boy exits.] +I doubt he be hurt.--Fare you well, good niece. + +CRESSIDA Adieu, uncle. + +PANDARUS I will be with you, niece, by and by. + +CRESSIDA To bring, uncle? + +PANDARUS Ay, a token from Troilus. + +CRESSIDA By the same token, you are a bawd. +[Pandarus exits.] +Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice +He offers in another's enterprise; +But more in Troilus thousandfold I see +Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be. +Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing; +Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing. +That she beloved knows naught that knows not this: +Men prize the thing ungained more than it is. +That she was never yet that ever knew +Love got so sweet as when desire did sue. +Therefore this maxim out of love I teach: +Achievement is command; ungained, beseech. +Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear, +Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Sennet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Diomedes, +Menelaus, with others.] + + +AGAMEMNON +Princes, what grief hath set the jaundice o'er your +cheeks? +The ample proposition that hope makes +In all designs begun on Earth below +Fails in the promised largeness. Checks and disasters +Grow in the veins of actions highest reared, +As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, +Infects the sound pine and diverts his grain +Tortive and errant from his course of growth. +Nor, princes, is it matter new to us +That we come short of our suppose so far +That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand, +Sith every action that hath gone before, +Whereof we have record, trial did draw +Bias and thwart, not answering the aim +And that unbodied figure of the thought +That gave 't surmised shape. Why then, you princes, +Do you with cheeks abashed behold our works +And call them shames, which are indeed naught else +But the protractive trials of great Jove +To find persistive constancy in men? +The fineness of which metal is not found +In Fortune's love; for then the bold and coward, +The wise and fool, the artist and unread, +The hard and soft seem all affined and kin. +But in the wind and tempest of her frown, +Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, +Puffing at all, winnows the light away, +And what hath mass or matter by itself +Lies rich in virtue and unmingled. + +NESTOR +With due observance of thy godlike seat, +Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply +Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance +Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth, +How many shallow bauble boats dare sail +Upon her patient breast, making their way +With those of nobler bulk! +But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage +The gentle Thetis, and anon behold +The strong-ribbed bark through liquid mountains cut, +Bounding between the two moist elements, +Like Perseus' horse. Where's then the saucy boat +Whose weak untimbered sides but even now +Corrivaled greatness? Either to harbor fled +Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so +Doth valor's show and valor's worth divide +In storms of Fortune. For in her ray and brightness +The herd hath more annoyance by the breese +Than by the tiger, but when the splitting wind +Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, +And flies flee under shade, why, then the thing of +courage, +As roused with rage, with rage doth sympathize, +And with an accent tuned in selfsame key +Retorts to chiding Fortune. + +ULYSSES Agamemnon, +Thou great commander, nerves and bone of Greece, +Heart of our numbers, soul and only sprite, +In whom the tempers and the minds of all +Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks. +Besides th' applause and approbation, +The which, [(to Agamemnon)] most mighty for thy +place and sway, +[(To Nestor)] And thou most reverend for thy +stretched-out life, +I give to both your speeches, which were such +As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece +Should hold up high in brass; and such again +As venerable Nestor, hatched in silver, +Should with a bond of air, strong as the axletree +On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears +To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both, +Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak. + +AGAMEMNON +Speak, Prince of Ithaca, and be 't of less expect +That matter needless, of importless burden, +Divide thy lips than we are confident +When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws +We shall hear music, wit, and oracle. + +ULYSSES +Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, +And the great Hector's sword had lacked a master +But for these instances: +The specialty of rule hath been neglected, +And look how many Grecian tents do stand +Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions. +When that the general is not like the hive +To whom the foragers shall all repair, +What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded, +Th' unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. +The heavens themselves, the planets, and this center +Observe degree, priority, and place, +Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, +Office, and custom, in all line of order. +And therefore is the glorious planet Sol +In noble eminence enthroned and sphered +Amidst the other, whose med'cinable eye +Corrects the influence of evil planets, +And posts, like the commandment of a king, +Sans check, to good and bad. But when the planets +In evil mixture to disorder wander, +What plagues and what portents, what mutiny, +What raging of the sea, shaking of Earth, +Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, horrors +Divert and crack, rend and deracinate +The unity and married calm of states +Quite from their fixture! O, when degree is shaked, +Which is the ladder of all high designs, +The enterprise is sick. How could communities, +Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities, +Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, +The primogeneity and due of birth, +Prerogative of age, crowns, scepters, laurels, +But by degree stand in authentic place? +Take but degree away, untune that string, +And hark what discord follows. Each thing meets +In mere oppugnancy. The bounded waters +Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores +And make a sop of all this solid globe; +Strength should be lord of imbecility, +And the rude son should strike his father dead; +Force should be right, or, rather, right and wrong, +Between whose endless jar justice resides, +Should lose their names, and so should justice too. +Then everything includes itself in power, +Power into will, will into appetite, +And appetite, an universal wolf, +So doubly seconded with will and power, +Must make perforce an universal prey +And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon, +This chaos, when degree is suffocate, +Follows the choking. +And this neglection of degree it is +That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose +It hath to climb. The General's disdained +By him one step below, he by the next, +That next by him beneath; so every step, +Exampled by the first pace that is sick +Of his superior, grows to an envious fever +Of pale and bloodless emulation. +And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, +Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length, +Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength. + +NESTOR +Most wisely hath Ulysses here discovered +The fever whereof all our power is sick. + +AGAMEMNON +The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses, +What is the remedy? + +ULYSSES +The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns +The sinew and the forehand of our host, +Having his ear full of his airy fame, +Grows dainty of his worth and in his tent +Lies mocking our designs. With him Patroclus, +Upon a lazy bed, the live-long day +Breaks scurril jests, +And with ridiculous and silly action, +Which, slanderer, he imitation calls, +He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon, +Thy topless deputation he puts on, +And, like a strutting player whose conceit +Lies in his hamstring and doth think it rich +To hear the wooden dialogue and sound +'Twixt his stretched footing and the scaffollage, +Such to-be-pitied and o'erwrested seeming +He acts thy greatness in; and when he speaks, +'Tis like a chime a-mending, with terms unsquared +Which from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropped +Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff, +The large Achilles, on his pressed bed lolling, +From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause, +Cries "Excellent! 'Tis Agamemnon right. +Now play me Nestor; hem and stroke thy beard, +As he being dressed to some oration." +That's done, as near as the extremest ends +Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife; +Yet god Achilles still cries "Excellent! +'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus, +Arming to answer in a night alarm." +And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age +Must be the scene of mirth--to cough and spit, +And, with a palsy fumbling on his gorget, +Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport +Sir Valor dies, cries "O, enough, Patroclus, +Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all +In pleasure of my spleen." And in this fashion, +All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, +Severals and generals of grace exact, +Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, +Excitements to the field, or speech for truce, +Success or loss, what is or is not, serves +As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. + +NESTOR +And in the imitation of these twain, +Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns +With an imperial voice, many are infect: +Ajax is grown self-willed and bears his head +In such a rein, in full as proud a place +As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him, +Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war, +Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites-- +A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint-- +To match us in comparisons with dirt, +To weaken and discredit our exposure, +How rank soever rounded in with danger. + +ULYSSES +They tax our policy and call it cowardice, +Count wisdom as no member of the war, +Forestall prescience, and esteem no act +But that of hand. The still and mental parts +That do contrive how many hands shall strike +When fitness calls them on and know by measure +Of their observant toil the enemy's weight-- +Why, this hath not a fingers dignity. +They call this bed-work, mapp'ry, closet war; +So that the ram that batters down the wall, +For the great swinge and rudeness of his poise, +They place before his hand that made the engine +Or those that with the fineness of their souls +By reason guide his execution. + +NESTOR +Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse +Makes many Thetis' sons. [Tucket.] + +AGAMEMNON What trumpet? Look, Menelaus. + +MENELAUS From Troy. + +[Enter Aeneas, with a Trumpeter.] + + +AGAMEMNON What would you 'fore our tent? + +AENEAS +Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you? + +AGAMEMNON Even this. + +AENEAS +May one that is a herald and a prince +Do a fair message to his kingly eyes? + +AGAMEMNON +With surety stronger than Achilles' arm +'Fore all the Greekish host, which with one voice +Call Agamemnon head and general. + +AENEAS +Fair leave and large security. How may +A stranger to those most imperial looks +Know them from eyes of other mortals? + +AGAMEMNON How? + +AENEAS +Ay. I ask that I might waken reverence +And bid the cheek be ready with a blush +Modest as morning when she coldly eyes +The youthful Phoebus. +Which is that god in office, guiding men? +Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? + +AGAMEMNON +This Trojan scorns us, or the men of Troy +Are ceremonious courtiers. + +AENEAS +Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarmed, +As bending angels--that's their fame in peace. +But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls, +Good arms, strong joints, true swords, and--great +Jove's accord-- +Nothing so full of heart. But peace, Aeneas. +Peace, Trojan. Lay thy finger on thy lips. +The worthiness of praise distains his worth +If that the praised himself bring the praise forth. +But what the repining enemy commends, +That breath fame blows; that praise, sole pure, +transcends. + +AGAMEMNON +Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself Aeneas? + +AENEAS Ay, Greek, that is my name. + +AGAMEMNON What's your affair, I pray you? + +AENEAS +Sir, pardon. 'Tis for Agamemnon's ears. + +AGAMEMNON +He hears naught privately that comes from Troy. + +AENEAS +Nor I from Troy come not to whisper with him. +I bring a trumpet to awake his ear, +To set his sense on the attentive bent, +And then to speak. + +AGAMEMNON Speak frankly as the wind; +It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour. +That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake, +He tells thee so himself. + +AENEAS Trumpet, blow loud! +Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents; +And every Greek of mettle, let him know +What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud. +[Sound trumpet.] +We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy +A prince called Hector--Priam is his father-- +Who in this dull and long-continued truce +Is resty grown. He bade me take a trumpet +And to this purpose speak: "Kings, princes, lords, +If there be one among the fair'st of Greece +That holds his honor higher than his ease, +That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril, +That knows his valor and knows not his fear, +That loves his mistress more than in confession +With truant vows to her own lips he loves +And dare avow her beauty and her worth +In other arms than hers--to him this challenge. +Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks, +Shall make it good, or do his best to do it, +He hath a lady wiser, fairer, truer +Than ever Greek did couple in his arms +And will tomorrow with his trumpet call, +Midway between your tents and walls of Troy, +To rouse a Grecian that is true in love. +If any come, Hector shall honor him; +If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires +The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth +The splinter of a lance." Even so much. + +AGAMEMNON +This shall be told our lovers, Lord Aeneas. +If none of them have soul in such a kind, +We left them all at home. But we are soldiers, +And may that soldier a mere recreant prove +That means not, hath not, or is not in love! +If then one is, or hath, or means to be, +That one meets Hector. If none else, I am he. + +NESTOR, [to Aeneas] +Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man +When Hector's grandsire sucked. He is old now, +But if there be not in our Grecian host +A noble man that hath one spark of fire +To answer for his love, tell him from me +I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver +And in my vambrace put my withered brawns +And, meeting him, will tell him that my lady +Was fairer than his grandam and as chaste +As may be in the world. His youth in flood, +I'll prove this troth with my three drops of blood. + +AENEAS +Now heavens forfend such scarcity of youth! + +ULYSSES Amen. + +AGAMEMNON +Fair Lord Aeneas, let me touch your hand. +To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir. +Achilles shall have word of this intent; +So shall each lord of Greece from tent to tent. +Yourself shall feast with us before you go, +And find the welcome of a noble foe. +[All but Ulysses and Nestor exit.] + +ULYSSES Nestor. + +NESTOR What says Ulysses? + +ULYSSES +I have a young conception in my brain; +Be you my time to bring it to some shape. + +NESTOR What is 't? + +ULYSSES This 'tis: +Blunt wedges rive hard knots; the seeded pride +That hath to this maturity blown up +In rank Achilles must or now be cropped +Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil +To overbulk us all. + +NESTOR Well, and how? + +ULYSSES +This challenge that the gallant Hector sends, +However it is spread in general name, +Relates in purpose only to Achilles. + +NESTOR +True. The purpose is perspicuous as substance +Whose grossness little characters sum up; +And, in the publication, make no strain +But that Achilles, were his brain as barren +As banks of Libya--though, Apollo knows, +'Tis dry enough--will, with great speed of judgment, +Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose +Pointing on him. + +ULYSSES And wake him to the answer, think you? + +NESTOR +Why, 'tis most meet. Who may you else oppose +That can from Hector bring his honor off +If not Achilles? Though 't be a sportful combat, +Yet in the trial much opinion dwells, +For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute +With their fin'st palate. And, trust to me, Ulysses, +Our imputation shall be oddly poised +In this vile action. For the success, +Although particular, shall give a scantling +Of good or bad unto the general; +And in such indexes, although small pricks +To their subsequent volumes, there is seen +The baby figure of the giant mass +Of things to come at large. It is supposed +He that meets Hector issues from our choice; +And choice, being mutual act of all our souls, +Makes merit her election and doth boil, +As 'twere from forth us all, a man distilled +Out of our virtues, who, miscarrying, +What heart receives from hence a conquering part +To steel a strong opinion to themselves?-- +Which entertained, limbs are his instruments, +In no less working than are swords and bows +Directive by the limbs. + +ULYSSES +Give pardon to my speech: therefore 'tis meet +Achilles meet not Hector. Let us like merchants +First show foul wares and think perchance they'll sell; +If not, the luster of the better shall exceed +By showing the worse first. Do not consent +That ever Hector and Achilles meet, +For both our honor and our shame in this +Are dogged with two strange followers. + +NESTOR +I see them not with my old eyes. What are they? + +ULYSSES +What glory our Achilles shares from Hector, +Were he not proud, we all should share with him; +But he already is too insolent, +And it were better parch in Afric sun +Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes +Should he scape Hector fair. If he were foiled, +Why then we do our main opinion crush +In taint of our best man. No, make a lott'ry, +And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw +The sort to fight with Hector. Among ourselves +Give him allowance for the better man, +For that will physic the great Myrmidon, +Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall +His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends. +If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off, +We'll dress him up in voices; if he fail, +Yet go we under our opinion still +That we have better men. But, hit or miss, +Our project's life this shape of sense assumes: +Ajax employed plucks down Achilles' plumes. + +NESTOR +Now, Ulysses, I begin to relish thy advice, +And I will give a taste thereof forthwith +To Agamemnon. Go we to him straight. +Two curs shall tame each other; pride alone +Must tar the mastiffs on, as 'twere a bone. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Ajax and Thersites.] + + +AJAX Thersites! + +THERSITES Agamemnon--how if he had boils, full, all +over, generally? + +AJAX Thersites! + +THERSITES And those boils did run? Say so. Did not the +general run, then? Were not that a botchy core? + +AJAX Dog! + +THERSITES Then there would come some matter +from him. I see none now. + +AJAX Thou bitchwolf's son, canst thou not hear? Feel, +then. [Strikes him.] + +THERSITES The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel +beef-witted lord! + +AJAX Speak, then, thou unsalted leaven, speak. I will +beat thee into handsomeness. + +THERSITES I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness, +but I think thy horse will sooner con an oration +than thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst +strike, canst thou? A red murrain o' thy jade's tricks. + +AJAX Toadstool, learn me the proclamation. + +THERSITES Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest +me thus? + +AJAX The proclamation! + +THERSITES Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think. + +AJAX Do not, porpentine, do not. My fingers itch. + +THERSITES I would thou didst itch from head to foot, +and I had the scratching of thee; I would make +thee the loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou +art forth in the incursions, thou strikest as slow as +another. + +AJAX I say, the proclamation! + +THERSITES Thou grumblest and railest every hour on +Achilles, and thou art as full of envy at his greatness +as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty, ay, that +thou bark'st at him. + +AJAX Mistress Thersites! + +THERSITES Thou shouldst strike him-- + +AJAX Cobloaf! + +THERSITES He would pound thee into shivers with his +fist as a sailor breaks a biscuit. + +AJAX You whoreson cur! [Strikes him.] + +THERSITES Do, do. + +AJAX Thou stool for a witch! + +THERSITES Ay, do, do, thou sodden-witted lord. Thou +hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows; an +asinego may tutor thee, thou scurvy-valiant ass. +Thou art here but to thrash Trojans, and thou art +bought and sold among those of any wit, like a +barbarian slave. If thou use to beat me, I will begin +at thy heel and tell what thou art by inches, thou +thing of no bowels, thou. + +AJAX You dog! + +THERSITES You scurvy lord! + +AJAX You cur! [Strikes him.] + +THERSITES Mars his idiot! Do, rudeness, do, camel, do, +do. + +[Enter Achilles and Patroclus.] + + +ACHILLES Why, how now, Ajax? Wherefore do you +thus?--How now, Thersites? What's the matter, +man? + +THERSITES You see him there, do you? + +ACHILLES Ay, what's the matter? + +THERSITES Nay, look upon him. + +ACHILLES So I do. What's the matter? + +THERSITES Nay, but regard him well. + +ACHILLES Well, why, so I do. + +THERSITES But yet you look not well upon him, for +whosomever you take him to be, he is Ajax. + +ACHILLES I know that, fool. + +THERSITES Ay, but that fool knows not himself. + +AJAX Therefore I beat thee. + +THERSITES Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! +His evasions have ears thus long. I have +bobbed his brain more than he has beat my bones. +I will buy nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia +mater is not worth the ninth part of a sparrow. +This lord, Achilles--Ajax, who wears his wit in his +belly, and his guts in his head--I'll tell you what I +say of him. + +ACHILLES What? + +THERSITES I say, this Ajax-- [Ajax menaces him.] + +ACHILLES Nay, good Ajax. + +THERSITES Has not so much wit-- + +ACHILLES, [to Ajax] Nay, I must hold you. + +THERSITES As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for +whom he comes to fight. + +ACHILLES Peace, fool! + +THERSITES I would have peace and quietness, but the +fool will not--he there, that he. Look you there. + +AJAX O, thou damned cur, I shall-- + +ACHILLES Will you set your wit to a fool's? + +THERSITES No, I warrant you. The fool's will shame it. + +PATROCLUS Good words, Thersites. + +ACHILLES, [to Ajax] What's the quarrel? + +AJAX I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the +proclamation, and he rails upon me. + +THERSITES I serve thee not. + +AJAX Well, go to, go to. + +THERSITES I serve here voluntary. + +ACHILLES Your last service was suff'rance; 'twas not +voluntary. No man is beaten voluntary. Ajax was +here the voluntary, and you as under an impress. + +THERSITES E'en so. A great deal of your wit, too, lies in +your sinews, or else there be liars. Hector shall +have a great catch an he knock out either of +your brains; he were as good crack a fusty nut with +no kernel. + +ACHILLES What, with me too, Thersites? + +THERSITES There's Ulysses and old Nestor--whose wit +was moldy ere your grandsires had nails on +their toes--yoke you like draft-oxen and make +you plow up the wars. + +ACHILLES What? What? + +THERSITES Yes, good sooth. To, Achilles! To, Ajax! To-- + +AJAX I shall cut out your tongue. + +THERSITES 'Tis no matter. I shall speak as much as +thou afterwards. + +PATROCLUS No more words, Thersites. Peace. + +THERSITES I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach +bids me, shall I? + +ACHILLES There's for you, Patroclus. + +THERSITES I will see you hanged like clodpolls ere I +come any more to your tents. I will keep where +there is wit stirring and leave the faction of fools. +[He exits.] + +PATROCLUS A good riddance. + +ACHILLES, [to Ajax] +Marry, this, sir, is proclaimed through all our host: +That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, +Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy +Tomorrow morning call some knight to arms +That hath a stomach, and such a one that dare +Maintain--I know not what; 'tis trash. Farewell. + +AJAX Farewell. Who shall answer him? + +ACHILLES +I know not. 'Tis put to lott'ry. Otherwise, +He knew his man. [Achilles and Patroclus exit.] + +AJAX O, meaning you? I will go learn more of it. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Priam, Hector, Troilus, Paris and Helenas.] + + +PRIAM +After so many hours, lives, speeches spent, +Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks: +"Deliver Helen, and all damage else-- +As honor, loss of time, travel, expense, +Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consumed +In hot digestion of this cormorant war-- +Shall be struck off."--Hector, what say you to 't? + +HECTOR +Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I +As far as toucheth my particular, +Yet, dread Priam, +There is no lady of more softer bowels, +More spongy to suck in the sense of fear, +More ready to cry out "Who knows what follows?" +Than Hector is. The wound of peace is surety, +Surety secure; but modest doubt is called +The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches +To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go. +Since the first sword was drawn about this question, +Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes, +Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours. +If we have lost so many tenths of ours +To guard a thing not ours--nor worth to us, +Had it our name, the value of one ten-- +What merit's in that reason which denies +The yielding of her up? + +TROILUS Fie, fie, my brother, +Weigh you the worth and honor of a king +So great as our dread father's in a scale +Of common ounces? Will you with counters sum +The past-proportion of his infinite, +And buckle in a waist most fathomless +With spans and inches so diminutive +As fears and reasons? Fie, for godly shame! + +HELENUS +No marvel though you bite so sharp at reasons, +You are so empty of them. Should not our father +Bear the great sway of his affairs with reason, +Because your speech hath none that tell him so? + +TROILUS +You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest. +You fur your gloves with reason. Here are your +reasons: +You know an enemy intends you harm; +You know a sword employed is perilous, +And reason flies the object of all harm. +Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds +A Grecian and his sword, if he do set +The very wings of reason to his heels +And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove +Or like a star disorbed? Nay, if we talk of reason, +Let's shut our gates and sleep. Manhood and honor +Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their +thoughts +With this crammed reason. Reason and respect +Make livers pale and lustihood deject. + +HECTOR +Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost +The keeping. + +TROILUS What's aught but as 'tis valued? + +HECTOR +But value dwells not in particular will; +It holds his estimate and dignity +As well wherein 'tis precious of itself +As in the prizer. 'Tis mad idolatry +To make the service greater than the god; +And the will dotes that is attributive +To what infectiously itself affects +Without some image of th' affected merit. + +TROILUS +I take today a wife, and my election +Is led on in the conduct of my will-- +My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, +Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores +Of will and judgment. How may I avoid, +Although my will distaste what it elected, +The wife I choose? There can be no evasion +To blench from this and to stand firm by honor. +We turn not back the silks upon the merchant +When we have soiled them, nor the remainder +viands +We do not throw in unrespective sieve +Because we now are full. It was thought meet +Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks. +Your breath with full consent bellied his sails; +The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce +And did him service. He touched the ports desired, +And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive, +He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and +freshness +Wrinkles Apollo's and makes pale the morning. +Why keep we her? The Grecians keep our aunt. +Is she worth keeping? Why, she is a pearl +Whose price hath launched above a thousand ships +And turned crowned kings to merchants. +If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went-- +As you must needs, for you all cried "Go, go"-- +If you'll confess he brought home worthy prize-- +As you must needs, for you all clapped your hands +And cried "Inestimable"--why do you now +The issue of your proper wisdoms rate +And do a deed that never Fortune did, +Beggar the estimation which you prized +Richer than sea and land? O, theft most base, +That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep! +But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol'n, +That in their country did them that disgrace +We fear to warrant in our native place. + +CASSANDRA, [within] +Cry, Trojans, cry! + +PRIAM What noise? What shriek is this? + +TROILUS +'Tis our mad sister. I do know her voice. + +CASSANDRA, [within] Cry, Trojans! + +HECTOR It is Cassandra. + +[Enter Cassandra raving.] + + +CASSANDRA +Cry, Trojans, cry! Lend me ten thousand eyes, +And I will fill them with prophetic tears. + +HECTOR Peace, sister, peace! + +CASSANDRA +Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders, +Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, +Add to my clamors. Let us pay betimes +A moiety of that mass of moan to come. +Cry, Trojans, cry! Practice your eyes with tears. +Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilium stand. +Our firebrand brother Paris burns us all. +Cry, Trojans, cry! A Helen and a woe! +Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. [She exits.] + +HECTOR +Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains +Of divination in our sister work +Some touches of remorse? Or is your blood +So madly hot that no discourse of reason +Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause +Can qualify the same? + +TROILUS Why, brother Hector, +We may not think the justness of each act +Such and no other than event doth form it, +Nor once deject the courage of our minds +Because Cassandra's mad. Her brainsick raptures +Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel +Which hath our several honors all engaged +To make it gracious. For my private part, +I am no more touched than all Priam's sons; +And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us +Such things as might offend the weakest spleen +To fight for and maintain! + +PARIS +Else might the world convince of levity +As well my undertakings as your counsels. +But I attest the gods, your full consent +Gave wings to my propension and cut off +All fears attending on so dire a project. +For what, alas, can these my single arms? +What propugnation is in one man's valor +To stand the push and enmity of those +This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest, +Were I alone to pass the difficulties +And had as ample power as I have will, +Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done +Nor faint in the pursuit. + +PRIAM Paris, you speak +Like one besotted on your sweet delights. +You have the honey still, but these the gall. +So to be valiant is no praise at all. + +PARIS +Sir, I propose not merely to myself +The pleasures such a beauty brings with it, +But I would have the soil of her fair rape +Wiped off in honorable keeping her. +What treason were it to the ransacked queen, +Disgrace to your great worths, and shame to me, +Now to deliver her possession up +On terms of base compulsion? Can it be +That so degenerate a strain as this +Should once set footing in your generous bosoms? +There's not the meanest spirit on our party +Without a heart to dare or sword to draw +When Helen is defended, nor none so noble +Whose life were ill bestowed or death unfamed +Where Helen is the subject. Then I say, +Well may we fight for her whom, we know well, +The world's large spaces cannot parallel. + +HECTOR +Paris and Troilus, you have both said well, +And on the cause and question now in hand +Have glozed--but superficially, not much +Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought +Unfit to hear moral philosophy. +The reasons you allege do more conduce +To the hot passion of distempered blood +Than to make up a free determination +'Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge +Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice +Of any true decision. Nature craves +All dues be rendered to their owners. Now, +What nearer debt in all humanity +Than wife is to the husband? If this law +Of nature be corrupted through affection, +And that great minds, of partial indulgence +To their benumbed wills, resist the same, +There is a law in each well-ordered nation +To curb those raging appetites that are +Most disobedient and refractory. +If Helen, then, be wife to Sparta's king, +As it is known she is, these moral laws +Of nature and of nations speak aloud +To have her back returned. Thus to persist +In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, +But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion +Is this in way of truth; yet, ne'ertheless, +My sprightly brethren, I propend to you +In resolution to keep Helen still, +For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence +Upon our joint and several dignities. + +TROILUS +Why, there you touched the life of our design! +Were it not glory that we more affected +Than the performance of our heaving spleens, +I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood +Spent more in her defense. But, worthy Hector, +She is a theme of honor and renown, +A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, +Whose present courage may beat down our foes, +And fame in time to come canonize us; +For I presume brave Hector would not lose +So rich advantage of a promised glory +As smiles upon the forehead of this action +For the wide world's revenue. + +HECTOR I am yours, +You valiant offspring of great Priamus. +I have a roisting challenge sent amongst +The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks +Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits. +I was advertised their great general slept, +Whilst emulation in the army crept. +This, I presume, will wake him. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Thersites, alone.] + + +THERSITES How now, Thersites? What, lost in the +labyrinth of thy fury? Shall the elephant Ajax carry +it thus? He beats me, and I rail at him. O, worthy +satisfaction! Would it were otherwise, that I could +beat him whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to +conjure and raise devils but I'll see some issue of +my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a +rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two undermine +it, the walls will stand till they fall of +themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, +forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods; +and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy +caduceus, if you take not that little, little, less than +little wit from them that they have, which short-armed +ignorance itself knows is so abundant +scarce it will not in circumvention deliver a fly +from a spider without drawing their massy irons +and cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on +the whole camp! Or rather, the Neapolitan bone-ache! +For that, methinks, is the curse depending +on those that war for a placket. I have said my +prayers, and devil Envy say "Amen."--What ho, +my lord Achilles! + +PATROCLUS, [within] Who's there? Thersites? Good +Thersites, come in and rail. + +THERSITES If I could 'a remembered a gilt counterfeit, +thou couldst not have slipped out of my contemplation. +But it is no matter. Thyself upon thyself! The +common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, +be thine in great revenue! Heaven bless thee from +a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy +blood be thy direction till thy death; then if she +that lays thee out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be +sworn and sworn upon 't she never shrouded any +but lazars. Amen. + +[Enter Patroclus.] + +Where's Achilles? + +PATROCLUS What, art thou devout? Wast thou in +prayer? + +THERSITES Ay. The heavens hear me! + +PATROCLUS Amen. + +ACHILLES, [within] Who's there? + +PATROCLUS Thersites, my lord. + +ACHILLES, [within] Where? Where? O, where? + +[Enter Achilles.] + +[To Thersites.] Art thou come? Why, my cheese, my +digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my +table so many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon? + +THERSITES Thy commander, Achilles.--Then, tell me, +Patroclus, what's Achilles? + +PATROCLUS Thy lord, Thersites. Then, tell me, I pray +thee, what's Thersites? + +THERSITES Thy knower, Patroclus. Then, tell me, Patroclus, +what art thou? + +PATROCLUS Thou must tell that knowest. + +ACHILLES O tell, tell. + +THERSITES I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon +commands Achilles, Achilles is my lord, I am +Patroclus' knower, and Patroclus is a fool. + +PATROCLUS You rascal! + +THERSITES Peace, fool. I have not done. + +ACHILLES, [to Patroclus] He is a privileged man.--Proceed, +Thersites. + +THERSITES Agamemnon is a fool, Achilles is a fool, +Thersites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a +fool. + +ACHILLES Derive this. Come. + +THERSITES Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command +Achilles, Achilles is a fool to be commanded of +Agamemnon, Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool, +and this Patroclus is a fool positive. + +PATROCLUS Why am I a fool? + +THERSITES Make that demand of the creator. It suffices +me thou art. + +[Enter at a distance Agamemnon, Ulysses, Nestor, +Diomedes, Ajax, and Calchas.] + +Look you, who comes here? + +ACHILLES Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody.--Come in +with me, Thersites. [He exits.] + +THERSITES Here is such patchery, such juggling, and +such knavery. All the argument is a whore and a +cuckold, a good quarrel to draw emulous factions +and bleed to death upon. Now the dry serpigo on +the subject, and war and lechery confound all! +[He exits.] + +AGAMEMNON, [to Patroclus] Where is Achilles? + +PATROCLUS +Within his tent, but ill-disposed, my lord. + +AGAMEMNON +Let it be known to him that we are here. +He shent our messengers, and we lay by +Our appertainments, visiting of him. +Let him be told so, lest perchance he think +We dare not move the question of our place +Or know not what we are. + +PATROCLUS I shall say so to him. [He exits.] + +ULYSSES +We saw him at the opening of his tent. +He is not sick. + +AJAX Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart. You may call +it melancholy if you will favor the man, but, by my +head, 'tis pride. But, why, why? Let him show us a +cause.--A word, my lord. +[He and Agamemnon walk aside.] + +NESTOR What moves Ajax thus to bay at him? + +ULYSSES Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him. + +NESTOR Who, Thersites? + +ULYSSES He. + +NESTOR Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his +argument. + +ULYSSES No. You see, he is his argument that has his +argument: Achilles. + +NESTOR All the better. Their fraction is more our wish +than their faction. But it was a strong composure a +fool could disunite. + +ULYSSES The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may +easily untie. + +[Enter Patroclus.] + +Here comes Patroclus. + +NESTOR No Achilles with him. + +ULYSSES The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; +his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure. + +PATROCLUS, [to Agamemnon] +Achilles bids me say he is much sorry +If anything more than your sport and pleasure +Did move your greatness and this noble state +To call upon him. He hopes it is no other +But for your health and your digestion sake, +An after-dinner's breath. + +AGAMEMNON Hear you, Patroclus: +We are too well acquainted with these answers, +But his evasion, winged thus swift with scorn, +Cannot outfly our apprehensions. +Much attribute he hath, and much the reason +Why we ascribe it to him. Yet all his virtues, +Not virtuously on his own part beheld, +Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss, +Yea, and like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, +Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him +We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin +If you do say we think him overproud +And underhonest, in self-assumption greater +Than in the note of judgment; and worthier than +himself +Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, +Disguise the holy strength of their command, +And underwrite in an observing kind +His humorous predominance--yea, watch +His course and time, his ebbs and flows, as if +The passage and whole carriage of this action +Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add +That, if he overhold his price so much, +We'll none of him. But let him, like an engine +Not portable, lie under this report: +"Bring action hither; this cannot go to war." +A stirring dwarf we do allowance give +Before a sleeping giant. Tell him so. + +PATROCLUS +I shall, and bring his answer presently. + +AGAMEMNON +In second voice we'll not be satisfied; +We come to speak with him.--Ulysses, enter you. +[Ulysses exits, with Patroclus.] + +AJAX What is he more than another? + +AGAMEMNON No more than what he thinks he is. + +AJAX Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself +a better man than I am? + +AGAMEMNON No question. + +AJAX Will you subscribe his thought and say he is? + +AGAMEMNON No, noble Ajax. You are as strong, as +valiant, as wise, no less noble, much more gentle, +and altogether more tractable. + +AJAX Why should a man be proud? How doth pride +grow? I know not what pride is. + +AGAMEMNON Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your +virtues the fairer. He that is proud eats up himself. +Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own +chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the +deed devours the deed in the praise. + +AJAX I do hate a proud man as I hate the engendering +of toads. + +NESTOR, [aside] +And yet he loves himself. Is 't not strange? + +[Enter Ulysses.] + + +ULYSSES +Achilles will not to the field tomorrow. + +AGAMEMNON +What's his excuse? + +ULYSSES He doth rely on none, +But carries on the stream of his dispose, +Without observance or respect of any, +In will peculiar and in self-admission. + +AGAMEMNON +Why, will he not, upon our fair request, +Untent his person and share th' air with us? + +ULYSSES +Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, +He makes important. Possessed he is with greatness +And speaks not to himself but with a pride +That quarrels at self-breath. Imagined worth +Holds in his blood such swoll'n and hot discourse +That 'twixt his mental and his active parts +Kingdomed Achilles in commotion rages +And batters down himself. What should I say? +He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it +Cry "No recovery." + +AGAMEMNON Let Ajax go to him.-- +Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent. +'Tis said he holds you well and will be led +At your request a little from himself. + +ULYSSES +O Agamemnon, let it not be so! +We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes +When they go from Achilles. Shall the proud lord +That bastes his arrogance with his own seam +And never suffers matter of the world +Enter his thoughts, save such as doth revolve +And ruminate himself--shall he be worshipped +Of that we hold an idol more than he? +No. This thrice-worthy and right valiant lord +Shall not so stale his palm, nobly acquired, +Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit, +As amply titled as Achilles is, +By going to Achilles. +That were to enlard his fat-already pride +And add more coals to Cancer when he burns +With entertaining great Hyperion. +This lord go to him? Jupiter forbid +And say in thunder "Achilles, go to him." + +NESTOR, [aside to Diomedes] +O, this is well; he rubs the vein of him. + +DIOMEDES, [aside to Nestor] +And how his silence drinks up this applause! + +AJAX +If I go to him, with my armed fist +I'll pash him o'er the face. + +AGAMEMNON O, no, you shall not go. + +AJAX +An he be proud with me, I'll feeze his pride. +Let me go to him. + +ULYSSES +Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel. + +AJAX A paltry, insolent fellow. + +NESTOR, [aside] How he describes himself! + +AJAX Can he not be sociable? + +ULYSSES, [aside] The raven chides blackness. + +AJAX I'll let his humorous blood. + +AGAMEMNON, [aside] He will be the physician that +should be the patient. + +AJAX An all men were of my mind-- + +ULYSSES, [aside] Wit would be out of fashion. + +AJAX --he should not bear it so; he should eat swords +first. Shall pride carry it? + +NESTOR, [aside] An 'twould, you'd carry half. + +ULYSSES, [aside] He would have ten shares. + +AJAX I will knead him; I'll make him supple. + +NESTOR, [aside] He's not yet through warm. Force him +with praises. Pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry. + +ULYSSES, [to Agamemnon] +My lord, you feed too much on this dislike. + +NESTOR, [to Agamemnon] +Our noble general, do not do so. + +DIOMEDES, [to Agamemnon] +You must prepare to fight without Achilles. + +ULYSSES +Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm. +Here is a man--but 'tis before his face; +I will be silent. + +NESTOR Wherefore should you so? +He is not emulous, as Achilles is. + +ULYSSES +Know the whole world, he is as valiant-- + +AJAX A whoreson dog, that shall palter with us thus! +Would he were a Trojan! + +NESTOR What a vice were it in Ajax now-- + +ULYSSES If he were proud-- + +DIOMEDES Or covetous of praise-- + +ULYSSES Ay, or surly borne-- + +DIOMEDES Or strange, or self-affected-- + +ULYSSES, [to Ajax] +Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet +composure. +Praise him that gat thee, she that gave thee suck; +Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature +Thrice famed beyond, beyond thy erudition; +But he that disciplined thine arms to fight, +Let Mars divide eternity in twain +And give him half; and for thy vigor, +Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield +To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom, +Which like a bourn, a pale, a shore confines +Thy spacious and dilated parts. Here's Nestor, +Instructed by the antiquary times; +He must, he is, he cannot but be wise.-- +But pardon, father Nestor, were your days +As green as Ajax' and your brain so tempered, +You should not have the eminence of him, +But be as Ajax. + +AJAX Shall I call you father? + +NESTOR +Ay, my good son. + +DIOMEDES Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax. + +ULYSSES +There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles +Keeps thicket. Please it our great general +To call together all his state of war. +Fresh kings are come to Troy. Tomorrow +We must with all our main of power stand fast. +And here's a lord--come knights from east to west +And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best. + +AGAMEMNON +Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep. +Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Music sounds within. Enter Pandarus and Paris's +Servingman.] + + +PANDARUS Friend, you, pray you, a word. Do you not +follow the young Lord Paris? + +MAN Ay, sir, when he goes before me. + +PANDARUS You depend upon him, I mean. + +MAN Sir, I do depend upon the Lord. + +PANDARUS You depend upon a notable gentleman. I +must needs praise him. + +MAN The Lord be praised! + +PANDARUS You know me, do you not? + +MAN Faith, sir, superficially. + +PANDARUS Friend, know me better. I am the Lord +Pandarus. + +MAN I hope I shall know your Honor better. + +PANDARUS I do desire it. + +MAN You are in the state of grace? + +PANDARUS Grace? Not so, friend. "Honor" and "Lordship" +are my titles. What music is this? + +MAN I do but partly know, sir. It is music in parts. + +PANDARUS Know you the musicians? + +MAN Wholly, sir. + +PANDARUS Who play they to? + +MAN To the hearers, sir. + +PANDARUS At whose pleasure, friend? + +MAN At mine, sir, and theirs that love music. + +PANDARUS Command, I mean, friend. + +MAN Who shall I command, sir? + +PANDARUS Friend, we understand not one another. I +am too courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose +request do these men play? + +MAN That's to 't indeed, sir. Marry, sir, at the request of +Paris my lord, who is there in person; with him the +mortal Venus, the heart blood of beauty, love's visible +soul. + +PANDARUS Who, my cousin Cressida? + +MAN No, sir, Helen. Could not you find out that by her +attributes? + +PANDARUS It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not +seen the Lady Cressid. I come to speak with Paris +from the Prince Troilus. I will make a complimental +assault upon him, for my business seethes. + +MAN Sodden business! There's a stewed phrase indeed. + +[Enter Paris and Helen with Attendants.] + + +PANDARUS Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair +company! Fair desires in all fair measure fairly +guide them!--Especially to you, fair queen, fair +thoughts be your fair pillow! + +HELEN Dear lord, you are full of fair words. + +PANDARUS You speak your fair pleasure, sweet +queen.--Fair prince, here is good broken music. + +PARIS You have broke it, cousin, and, by my life, you +shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out +with a piece of your performance. + +HELEN He is full of harmony. + +PANDARUS Truly, lady, no. + +HELEN O, sir-- + +PANDARUS Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude. + +PARIS Well said, my lord; well, you say so in fits. + +PANDARUS I have business to my lord, dear queen.-- +My lord, will you vouchsafe me a word? + +HELEN Nay, this shall not hedge us out. We'll hear you +sing, certainly. + +PANDARUS Well, sweet queen, you are pleasant with +me.--But, marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and +most esteemed friend, your brother Troilus-- + +HELEN My Lord Pandarus, honey-sweet lord-- + +PANDARUS Go to, sweet queen, go to--commends himself +most affectionately to you-- + +HELEN You shall not bob us out of our melody. If you +do, our melancholy upon your head! + +PANDARUS Sweet queen, sweet queen, that's a sweet +queen, i' faith-- + +HELEN And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. + +PANDARUS Nay, that shall not serve your turn, that +shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such +words, no, no.--And, my lord, he desires you that +if the King call for him at supper, you will make his +excuse. + +HELEN My Lord Pandarus-- + +PANDARUS What says my sweet queen, my very, very +sweet queen? + +PARIS What exploit's in hand? Where sups he tonight? + +HELEN Nay, but, my lord-- + +PANDARUS What says my sweet queen? My cousin will +fall out with you. + +HELEN, [to Paris] You must not know where he sups. + +PARIS I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida. + +PANDARUS No, no, no such matter; you are wide. +Come, your disposer is sick. + +PARIS Well, I'll make 's excuse. + +PANDARUS Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? +No, your poor disposer's sick. + +PARIS I spy. + +PANDARUS You spy? What do you spy?--Come, give me +an instrument. [An Attendant gives him an instrument.] +Now, sweet queen. + +HELEN Why, this is kindly done. + +PANDARUS My niece is horribly in love with a thing you +have, sweet queen. + +HELEN She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my Lord +Paris. + +PANDARUS He? No, she'll none of him. They two are +twain. + +HELEN Falling in after falling out may make them +three. + +PANDARUS Come, come, I'll hear no more of this. I'll +sing you a song now. + +HELEN Ay, ay, prithee. Now, by my troth, sweet lord, +thou hast a fine forehead. + +PANDARUS Ay, you may, you may. + +HELEN Let thy song be love. "This love will undo us all." +O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid! + +PANDARUS Love? Ay, that it shall, i' faith. + +PARIS Ay, good now, "Love, love, nothing but love." + +PANDARUS In good troth, it begins so. + Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more! + For, O, love's bow + Shoots buck and doe. + The shaft confounds + Not that it wounds + But tickles still the sore. + + These lovers cry "O ho!" they die, + Yet that which seems the wound to kill + Doth turn "O ho!" to "Ha ha he!" + So dying love lives still. + "O ho!" awhile, but "Ha ha ha!" + "O ho!"groans out for "ha ha ha!"--Hey ho! + +HELEN In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose. + +PARIS He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds +hot blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and +hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love. + +PANDARUS Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, +hot thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. +Is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's +afield today? + +PARIS Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the +gallantry of Troy. I would fain have armed today, +but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my +brother Troilus went not? + +HELEN He hangs the lip at something.--You know all, +Lord Pandarus. + +PANDARUS Not I, honey sweet queen. I long to hear how +they sped today.--You'll remember your brother's +excuse? + +PARIS To a hair. + +PANDARUS Farewell, sweet queen. + +HELEN Commend me to your niece. + +PANDARUS I will, sweet queen. [He exits.] +[Sound a retreat.] + +PARIS +They're come from the field. Let us to Priam's hall +To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you +To help unarm our Hector. His stubborn buckles, +With these your white enchanting fingers touched, +Shall more obey than to the edge of steel +Or force of Greekish sinews. You shall do more +Than all the island kings: disarm great Hector. + +HELEN +'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris. +Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty +Gives us more palm in beauty than we have, +Yea, overshines ourself. + +PARIS Sweet, above thought I love thee. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Pandarus and Troilus's Man, meeting.] + + +PANDARUS How now? Where's thy master? At my +cousin Cressida's? + +MAN No, sir, he stays for you to conduct him thither. + +[Enter Troilus.] + + +PANDARUS O, here he comes.--How now, how now? + +TROILUS, [to his Man] Sirrah, walk off. [Man exits.] + +PANDARUS Have you seen my cousin? + +TROILUS +No, Pandarus. I stalk about her door +Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks +Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon, +And give me swift transportance to those fields +Where I may wallow in the lily beds +Proposed for the deserver! O, gentle Pandar, +From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings +And fly with me to Cressid! + +PANDARUS Walk here i' th' orchard. I'll bring her +straight. +[Pandarus exits.] + +TROILUS +I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. +Th' imaginary relish is so sweet +That it enchants my sense. What will it be +When that the wat'ry palate taste indeed +Love's thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me, +Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine, +Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweetness +For the capacity of my ruder powers. +I fear it much; and I do fear besides +That I shall lose distinction in my joys, +As doth a battle when they charge on heaps +The enemy flying. + +[Enter Pandarus.] + + +PANDARUS She's making her ready; she'll come straight. +You must be witty now. She does so blush and +fetches her wind so short as if she were frayed with +a spirit. I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain. She +fetches her breath as short as a new-ta'en sparrow. +[Pandarus exits.] + +TROILUS +Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom. +My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse, +And all my powers do their bestowing lose, +Like vassalage at unawares encount'ring +The eye of majesty. + +[Enter Pandarus, and Cressida veiled.] + + +PANDARUS, [to Cressida] Come, come, what need you +blush? Shame's a baby.--Here she is now. Swear +the oaths now to her that you have sworn to me. +[Cressida offers to leave.] What, are you gone again? +You must be watched ere you be made tame, must +you? Come your ways; come your ways. An you +draw backward, we'll put you i' th' thills.--Why +do you not speak to her?--Come, draw this curtain +and let's see your picture. [He draws back her veil.] +Alas the day, how loath you are to offend daylight! +An 'twere dark, you'd close sooner.--So, so, rub on, +and kiss the mistress. [(They kiss.)] How now? A +kiss in fee-farm? Build there, carpenter; the air is +sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere I +part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the ducks +i' th' river. Go to, go to. + +TROILUS You have bereft me of all words, lady. + +PANDARUS Words pay no debts; give her deeds. But +she'll bereave you o' th' deeds too, if she call your +activity in question. [(They kiss.)] What, billing +again? Here's "In witness whereof the parties +interchangeably--." Come in, come in. I'll go get a fire. +[Pandarus exits.] + +CRESSIDA Will you walk in, my lord? + +TROILUS O Cressid, how often have I wished me thus! + +CRESSIDA "Wished," my lord? The gods grant--O, my +lord! + +TROILUS What should they grant? What makes this +pretty abruption? What too-curious dreg espies +my sweet lady in the fountain of our love? + +CRESSIDA More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes. + +TROILUS Fears make devils of cherubins; they never +see truly. + +CRESSIDA Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds +safer footing than blind reason, stumbling without +fear. To fear the worst oft cures the worse. + +TROILUS O, let my lady apprehend no fear. In all +Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster. + +CRESSIDA Nor nothing monstrous neither? + +TROILUS Nothing but our undertakings, when we vow +to weep seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers, +thinking it harder for our mistress to devise imposition +enough than for us to undergo any difficulty +imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that +the will is infinite and the execution confined, that +the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit. + +CRESSIDA They say all lovers swear more performance +than they are able and yet reserve an ability that +they never perform, vowing more than the perfection +of ten and discharging less than the tenth part +of one. They that have the voice of lions and the +act of hares, are they not monsters? + +TROILUS Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as +we are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall +go bare till merit crown it. No perfection in reversion +shall have a praise in present. We will not +name desert before his birth, and, being born, his +addition shall be humble. Few words to fair faith. +Troilus shall be such to Cressid as what envy can +say worst shall be a mock for his truth, and what +truth can speak truest not truer than Troilus. + +CRESSIDA Will you walk in, my lord? + +[Enter Pandarus.] + + +PANDARUS What, blushing still? Have you not done +talking yet? + +CRESSIDA Well, uncle, what folly I commit I dedicate +to you. + +PANDARUS I thank you for that. If my lord get a boy of +you, you'll give him me. Be true to my lord. If he +flinch, chide me for it. + +TROILUS, [to Cressida] You know now your hostages: +your uncle's word and my firm faith. + +PANDARUS Nay, I'll give my word for her too. Our kindred, +though they be long ere they be wooed, they +are constant being won. They are burrs, I can tell +you; they'll stick where they are thrown. + +CRESSIDA +Boldness comes to me now and brings me heart. +Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day +For many weary months. + +TROILUS +Why was my Cressid then so hard to win? + +CRESSIDA +Hard to seem won; but I was won, my lord, +With the first glance that ever--pardon me; +If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. +I love you now, but till now not so much +But I might master it. In faith, I lie; +My thoughts were like unbridled children grown +Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools! +Why have I blabbed? Who shall be true to us +When we are so unsecret to ourselves? +But though I loved you well, I wooed you not; +And yet, good faith, I wished myself a man; +Or that we women had men's privilege +Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue, +For in this rapture I shall surely speak +The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, +Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws +My very soul of counsel! Stop my mouth. + +TROILUS +And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence. +[They kiss.] + +PANDARUS Pretty, i' faith! + +CRESSIDA, [to Troilus] +My lord, I do beseech you pardon me. +'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss. +I am ashamed. O heavens, what have I done! +For this time will I take my leave, my lord. + +TROILUS Your leave, sweet Cressid? + +PANDARUS Leave? An you take leave till tomorrow +morning-- + +CRESSIDA Pray you, content you. + +TROILUS What offends you, lady? + +CRESSIDA Sir, mine own company. + +TROILUS You cannot shun yourself. + +CRESSIDA Let me go and try. +I have a kind of self resides with you, +But an unkind self that itself will leave +To be another's fool. I would be gone. +Where is my wit? I know not what I speak. + +TROILUS +Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely. + +CRESSIDA +Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love +And fell so roundly to a large confession +To angle for your thoughts. But you are wise, +Or else you love not; for to be wise and love +Exceeds man's might. That dwells with gods above. + +TROILUS +O, that I thought it could be in a woman-- +As, if it can, I will presume in you-- +To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love, +To keep her constancy in plight and youth, +Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind +That doth renew swifter than blood decays! +Or that persuasion could but thus convince me +That my integrity and truth to you +Might be affronted with the match and weight +Of such a winnowed purity in love; +How were I then uplifted! But, alas, +I am as true as truth's simplicity +And simpler than the infancy of truth. + +CRESSIDA +In that I'll war with you. + +TROILUS O virtuous fight, +When right with right wars who shall be most right! +True swains in love shall in the world to come +Approve their truth by Troilus. When their rhymes, +Full of protest, of oath and big compare, +Wants similes, truth tired with iteration-- +"As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, +As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, +As iron to adamant, as Earth to th' center"-- +Yet, after all comparisons of truth, +As truth's authentic author to be cited, +"As true as Troilus" shall crown up the verse +And sanctify the numbers. + +CRESSIDA Prophet may you be! +If I be false or swerve a hair from truth, +When time is old and hath forgot itself, +When water drops have worn the stones of Troy +And blind oblivion swallowed cities up, +And mighty states characterless are grated +To dusty nothing, yet let memory, +From false to false, among false maids in love, +Upbraid my falsehood! When they've said "as false +As air, as water, wind or sandy earth, +As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer's calf, +Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son," +Yea, let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood, +"As false as Cressid." + +PANDARUS Go to, a bargain made. Seal it, seal it. I'll be +the witness. Here I hold your hand, here my +cousin's. If ever you prove false one to another, since +I have taken such pains to bring you together, let +all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's +end after my name: call them all panders. Let all +constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids, +and all brokers-between panders. Say "Amen." + +TROILUS Amen. + +CRESSIDA Amen. + +PANDARUS Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber +with a bed, which bed, because it shall not +speak of your pretty encounters, press it to death. +Away. [Troilus and Cressida exit.] +And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here +Bed, chamber, pander to provide this gear. +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Flourish. Enter Ulysses, Diomedes, Nestor, +Agamemnon, Calchas, Menelaus, and Ajax.] + + +CALCHAS +Now, princes, for the service I have done you, +Th' advantage of the time prompts me aloud +To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind +That, through the sight I bear in things to come, +I have abandoned Troy, left my possessions, +Incurred a traitor's name, exposed myself, +From certain and possessed conveniences, +To doubtful fortunes, sequest'ring from me all +That time, acquaintance, custom, and condition +Made tame and most familiar to my nature, +And here, to do you service, am become +As new into the world, strange, unacquainted. +I do beseech you, as in way of taste, +To give me now a little benefit +Out of those many regist'red in promise, +Which you say live to come in my behalf. + +AGAMEMNON +What wouldst thou of us, Trojan, make demand? + +CALCHAS +You have a Trojan prisoner called Antenor +Yesterday took. Troy holds him very dear. +Oft have you--often have you thanks therefor-- +Desired my Cressid in right great exchange, +Whom Troy hath still denied; but this Antenor, +I know, is such a wrest in their affairs +That their negotiations all must slack, +Wanting his manage; and they will almost +Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, +In change of him. Let him be sent, great princes, +And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence +Shall quite strike off all service I have done +In most accepted pain. + +AGAMEMNON Let Diomedes bear him, +And bring us Cressid hither. Calchas shall have +What he requests of us. Good Diomed, +Furnish you fairly for this interchange. +Withal, bring word if Hector will tomorrow +Be answered in his challenge. Ajax is ready. + +DIOMEDES +This shall I undertake, and 'tis a burden +Which I am proud to bear. [He exits with Calchas.] + +[Achilles and Patroclus stand in their tent.] + +ULYSSES +Achilles stands i' th' entrance of his tent. +Please it our General pass strangely by him +As if he were forgot, and, princes all, +Lay negligent and loose regard upon him. +I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me +Why such unplausive eyes are bent, why turned on +him. +If so, I have derision medicinable +To use between your strangeness and his pride, +Which his own will shall have desire to drink. +It may do good; pride hath no other glass +To show itself but pride, for supple knees +Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees. + +AGAMEMNON +We'll execute your purpose and put on +A form of strangeness as we pass along; +So do each lord, and either greet him not +Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more +Than if not looked on. I will lead the way. + +[They pass before Achilles and Patroclus. Ulysses +remains in place, reading.] + + + +ACHILLES +What, comes the General to speak with me? +You know my mind: I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy. + +AGAMEMNON, [to Nestor] +What says Achilles? Would he aught with us? + +NESTOR, [to Achilles] +Would you, my lord, aught with the General? + +ACHILLES No. + +NESTOR Nothing, my lord. + +AGAMEMNON The better. [Agamemnon and Nestor exit.] + +ACHILLES, [to Menelaus] Good day, good day. + +MENELAUS How do you? How do you? [He exits.] + +ACHILLES What, does the cuckold scorn me? + +AJAX How now, Patroclus? + +ACHILLES Good morrow, Ajax. + +AJAX Ha? + +ACHILLES Good morrow. + +AJAX Ay, and good next day too. [He exits.] + +ACHILLES +What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles? + +PATROCLUS +They pass by strangely. They were used to bend, +To send their smiles before them to Achilles, +To come as humbly as they use to creep +To holy altars. + +ACHILLES What, am I poor of late? +'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with Fortune, +Must fall out with men too. What the declined is +He shall as soon read in the eyes of others +As feel in his own fall, for men, like butterflies, +Show not their mealy wings but to the summer, +And not a man, for being simply man, +Hath any honor, but honor for those honors +That are without him--as place, riches, and favor, +Prizes of accident as oft as merit, +Which, when they fall, as being slippery slanders, +The love that leaned on them, as slippery too, +Doth one pluck down another and together +Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me. +Fortune and I are friends. I do enjoy, +At ample point, all that I did possess, +Save these men's looks, who do, methinks, find out +Something not worth in me such rich beholding +As they have often given. Here is Ulysses. +I'll interrupt his reading.--How now, Ulysses? + +ULYSSES Now, great Thetis' son-- + +ACHILLES What are you reading? + +ULYSSES A strange fellow here +Writes me that man, how dearly ever parted, +How much in having, or without or in, +Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, +Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; +As when his virtues, shining upon others, +Heat them, and they retort that heat again +To the first giver. + +ACHILLES This is not strange, Ulysses. +The beauty that is borne here in the face +The bearer knows not, but commends itself +To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself, +That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, +Not going from itself, but eye to eye opposed +Salutes each other with each other's form. +For speculation turns not to itself +Till it hath traveled and is mirrored there +Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all. + +ULYSSES +I do not strain at the position-- +It is familiar--but at the author's drift, +Who in his circumstance expressly proves +That no man is the lord of anything-- +Though in and of him there be much consisting-- +Till he communicate his parts to others; +Nor doth he of himself know them for aught +Till he behold them formed in the applause +Where they're extended; who, like an arch, reverb'rate +The voice again or, like a gate of steel +Fronting the sun, receives and renders back +His figure and his heat. I was much rapt in this +And apprehended here immediately +Th' unknown Ajax. Heavens, what a man is there! +A very horse, that has he knows not what! +Nature, what things there are +Most abject in regard, and dear in use, +What things again most dear in the esteem +And poor in worth! Now shall we see tomorrow-- +An act that very chance doth throw upon him-- +Ajax renowned. O, heavens, what some men do +While some men leave to do! +How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, +Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes! +How one man eats into another's pride, +While pride is fasting in his wantonness! +To see these Grecian lords--why, even already +They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder +As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast +And great Troy shrieking. + +ACHILLES +I do believe it, for they passed by me +As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me +Good word nor look. What, are my deeds forgot? + +ULYSSES +Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back +Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, +A great-sized monster of ingratitudes. +Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured +As fast as they are made, forgot as soon +As done. Perseverance, dear my lord, +Keeps honor bright. To have done is to hang +Quite out of fashion like a rusty mail +In monumental mock'ry. Take the instant way, +For honor travels in a strait so narrow +Where one but goes abreast. Keep, then, the path, +For Emulation hath a thousand sons +That one by one pursue. If you give way +Or turn aside from the direct forthright, +Like to an entered tide they all rush by +And leave you hindmost; +Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, +Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, +O'errun and trampled on. Then what they do in +present, +Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours; +For Time is like a fashionable host +That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand +And, with his arms outstretched as he would fly, +Grasps in the comer. Welcome ever smiles, +And Farewell goes out sighing. Let not virtue seek +Remuneration for the thing it was, +For beauty, wit, +High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service, +Love, friendship, charity are subjects all +To envious and calumniating Time. +One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, +That all, with one consent, praise newborn gauds, +Though they are made and molded of things past, +And give to dust that is a little gilt +More laud than gilt o'erdusted. +The present eye praises the present object. +Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, +That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax, +Since things in motion sooner catch the eye +Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee, +And still it might, and yet it may again, +If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive +And case thy reputation in thy tent, +Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late +Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves +And drave great Mars to faction. + +ACHILLES Of this my privacy, +I have strong reasons. + +ULYSSES But 'gainst your privacy +The reasons are more potent and heroical. +'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love +With one of Priam's daughters. + +ACHILLES Ha? Known? + +ULYSSES Is that a wonder? +The providence that's in a watchful state +Knows almost every grain of Pluto's gold, +Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deep, +Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods, +Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. +There is a mystery--with whom relation +Durst never meddle--in the soul of state, +Which hath an operation more divine +Than breath or pen can give expressure to. +All the commerce that you have had with Troy +As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord; +And better would it fit Achilles much +To throw down Hector than Polyxena. +But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home +When Fame shall in our islands sound her trump, +And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing +"Great Hector's sister did Achilles win, +But our great Ajax bravely beat down him." +Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak. +The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break. +[He exits.] + +PATROCLUS +To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you. +A woman impudent and mannish grown +Is not more loathed than an effeminate man +In time of action. I stand condemned for this. +They think my little stomach to the war, +And your great love to me, restrains you thus. +Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton Cupid +Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold +And, like a dewdrop from the lion's mane, +Be shook to air. + +ACHILLES Shall Ajax fight with Hector? + +PATROCLUS +Ay, and perhaps receive much honor by him. + +ACHILLES +I see my reputation is at stake; +My fame is shrewdly gored. + +PATROCLUS O, then, beware! +Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves. +Omission to do what is necessary +Seals a commission to a blank of danger, +And danger, like an ague, subtly taints +Even then when they sit idly in the sun. + +ACHILLES +Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus. +I'll send the fool to Ajax and desire him +T' invite the Trojan lords after the combat +To see us here unarmed. I have a woman's longing, +An appetite that I am sick withal, +To see great Hector in his weeds of peace, +To talk with him, and to behold his visage, +Even to my full of view. + +[Enter Thersites.] + +A labor saved. + +THERSITES A wonder! + +ACHILLES What? + +THERSITES Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for +himself. + +ACHILLES How so? + +THERSITES He must fight singly tomorrow with Hector +and is so prophetically proud of an heroical cudgeling +that he raves in saying nothing. + +ACHILLES How can that be? + +THERSITES Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock-- +a stride and a stand; ruminates like an hostess +that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set +down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politic regard, +as who should say "There were wit in this +head an 'twould out"--and so there is, but it lies +as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not +show without knocking. The man's undone forever, +for if Hector break not his neck i' th' combat, +he'll break 't himself in vainglory. He knows not +me. I said "Good morrow, Ajax," and he replies +"Thanks, Agamemnon." What think you of this +man that takes me for the General? He's grown a +very land-fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of +opinion! A man may wear it on both sides, like a +leather jerkin. + +ACHILLES Thou must be my ambassador to him, +Thersites. + +THERSITES Who, I? Why, he'll answer nobody. He professes +not answering; speaking is for beggars; he +wears his tongue in 's arms. I will put on his presence. +Let Patroclus make his demands to me. You +shall see the pageant of Ajax. + +ACHILLES To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire +the valiant Ajax to invite the most valorous Hector +to come unarmed to my tent, and to procure safe-conduct +for his person of the magnanimous and +most illustrious, six-or-seven-times-honored captain +general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, +et cetera. Do this. + +PATROCLUS, [to Thersites, who is playing Ajax] Jove +bless great Ajax. + +THERSITES Hum! + +PATROCLUS I come from the worthy Achilles-- + +THERSITES Ha? + +PATROCLUS Who most humbly desires you to invite +Hector to his tent-- + +THERSITES Hum! + +PATROCLUS And to procure safe-conduct from +Agamemnon. + +THERSITES Agamemnon? + +PATROCLUS Ay, my lord. + +THERSITES Ha! + +PATROCLUS What say you to 't? + +THERSITES God b' wi' you, with all my heart. + +PATROCLUS Your answer, sir. + +THERSITES If tomorrow be a fair day, by eleven of the +clock it will go one way or other. Howsoever, he +shall pay for me ere he has me. + +PATROCLUS Your answer, sir. + +THERSITES Fare you well with all my heart. +[He pretends to exit.] + +ACHILLES Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? + +THERSITES No, but he's out of tune thus. What music +will be in him when Hector has knocked out his +brains I know not. But I am sure none, unless the +fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make catlings on. + +ACHILLES Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him +straight. + +THERSITES Let me bear another to his horse, for that's +the more capable creature. + +ACHILLES +My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred, +And I myself see not the bottom of it. +[Achilles and Patroclus exit.] + +THERSITES Would the fountain of your mind were clear +again, that I might water an ass at it. I had rather +be a tick in a sheep than such a valiant ignorance. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter at one door Aeneas with a Torchbearer, at +another Paris, Deiphobus, Antenor, Diomedes and +Grecians with torches.] + + +PARIS See, ho! Who is that there? + +DEIPHOBUS It is the Lord Aeneas. + +AENEAS Is the Prince there in person?-- +Had I so good occasion to lie long +As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business +Should rob my bedmate of my company. + +DIOMEDES +That's my mind too.--Good morrow, Lord Aeneas. + +PARIS +A valiant Greek, Aeneas; take his hand. +Witness the process of your speech, wherein +You told how Diomed a whole week by days +Did haunt you in the field. + +AENEAS Health to you, valiant sir, +During all question of the gentle truce; +But when I meet you armed, as black defiance +As heart can think or courage execute. + +DIOMEDES +The one and other Diomed embraces. +Our bloods are now in calm, and, so long, health; +But when contention and occasion meet, +By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life +With all my force, pursuit, and policy. + +AENEAS +And thou shalt hunt a lion that will fly +With his face backward. In human gentleness, +Welcome to Troy. Now, by Anchises' life, +Welcome indeed. By Venus' hand I swear +No man alive can love in such a sort +The thing he means to kill more excellently. + +DIOMEDES +We sympathize. Jove, let Aeneas live, +If to my sword his fate be not the glory, +A thousand complete courses of the sun! +But in mine emulous honor let him die +With every joint a wound and that tomorrow. + +AENEAS We know each other well. + +DIOMEDES +We do, and long to know each other worse. + +PARIS +This is the most despiteful gentle greeting, +The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of. +[To Aeneas.] What business, lord, so early? + +AENEAS +I was sent for to the King, but why I know not. + +PARIS +His purpose meets you. 'Twas to bring this Greek +To Calchas' house, and there to render him, +For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid. +Let's have your company, or, if you please, +Haste there before us. [(Aside to Aeneas.)] I constantly +believe-- +Or, rather, call my thought a certain knowledge-- +My brother Troilus lodges there tonight. +Rouse him, and give him note of our approach, +With the whole quality whereof. I fear +We shall be much unwelcome. + +AENEAS, [aside to Paris] That I assure you. +Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece +Than Cressid borne from Troy. + +PARIS, [aside to Aeneas] There is no help. +The bitter disposition of the time +Will have it so.--On, lord, we'll follow you. + +AENEAS Good morrow, all. +[Aeneas exits with the Torchbearer.] + +PARIS +And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true, +Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship, +Who, in your thoughts, deserves fair Helen best, +Myself or Menelaus? + +DIOMEDES Both alike. +He merits well to have her that doth seek her, +Not making any scruple of her soilure, +With such a hell of pain and world of charge; +And you as well to keep her that defend her, +Not palating the taste of her dishonor, +With such a costly loss of wealth and friends. +He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up +The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece; +You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins +Are pleased to breed out your inheritors. +Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more; +But he as he, the heavier for a whore. + +PARIS +You are too bitter to your countrywoman. + +DIOMEDES +She's bitter to her country. Hear me, Paris: +For every false drop in her bawdy veins +A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple +Of her contaminated carrion weight +A Trojan hath been slain. Since she could speak, +She hath not given so many good words breath +As for her Greeks and Trojans suffered death. + +PARIS +Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do, +Dispraise the thing that they desire to buy. +But we in silence hold this virtue well: +We'll not commend that not intend to sell. +Here lies our way. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Troilus and Cressida.] + + +TROILUS +Dear, trouble not yourself. The morn is cold. + +CRESSIDA +Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down. +He shall unbolt the gates. + +TROILUS Trouble him not. +To bed, to bed! Sleep kill those pretty eyes +And give as soft attachment to thy senses +As infants' empty of all thought! + +CRESSIDA +Good morrow, then. + +TROILUS I prithee now, to bed. + +CRESSIDA Are you aweary of me? + +TROILUS +O Cressida! But that the busy day, +Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows, +And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer, +I would not from thee. + +CRESSIDA Night hath been too brief. + +TROILUS +Beshrew the witch! With venomous wights she stays +As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love +With wings more momentary-swift than thought. +You will catch cold and curse me. + +CRESSIDA +Prithee, tarry. You men will never tarry. +O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off, +And then you would have tarried. Hark, there's one up. + +PANDARUS, [within] What's all the doors open here? + +TROILUS It is your uncle. + +CRESSIDA +A pestilence on him! Now will he be mocking. +I shall have such a life! + +[Enter Pandarus.] + + +PANDARUS How now, how now? How go maidenheads? +Here, you maid! Where's my Cousin Cressid? + +CRESSIDA +Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle. +You bring me to do--and then you flout me too. + +PANDARUS To do what, to do what?--Let her say +what.--What have I brought you to do? + +CRESSIDA +Come, come, beshrew your heart! You'll ne'er be good +Nor suffer others. + +PANDARUS Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch! Ah, poor capocchia! +Has 't not slept tonight? Would he not--a +naughty man--let it sleep? A bugbear take him! + +CRESSIDA, [to Troilus] +Did not I tell you? Would he were knocked i' th' head! +[One knocks.] +Who's that at door?--Good uncle, go and see.-- +My lord, come you again into my chamber. +You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily. + +TROILUS Ha, ha! + +CRESSIDA +Come, you are deceived. I think of no such thing. +[Knock.] +How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in. +I would not for half Troy have you seen here. +[Troilus and Cressida exit.] + +PANDARUS Who's there? What's the matter? Will you +beat down the door? + +[Enter Aeneas.] + +How now? What's the matter? + +AENEAS Good morrow, lord, good morrow. + +PANDARUS Who's there? My Lord Aeneas? By my troth, +I knew you not. What news with you so early? + +AENEAS Is not Prince Troilus here? + +PANDARUS Here? What should he do here? + +AENEAS +Come, he is here, my lord. Do not deny him. +It doth import him much to speak with me. + +PANDARUS Is he here, say you? It's more than I know, +I'll be sworn. For my own part, I came in late. +What should he do here? + +AENEAS Ho, nay, then! Come, come, you'll do him +wrong ere you are ware. You'll be so true to him to +be false to him. Do not you know of him, but yet go +fetch him hither. Go. + +[Enter Troilus.] + + +TROILUS How now? What's the matter? + +AENEAS +My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you, +My matter is so rash. There is at hand +Paris your brother and Deiphobus, +The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor +Delivered to us; and for him forthwith, +Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, +We must give up to Diomedes' hand +The Lady Cressida. + +TROILUS Is it so concluded? + +AENEAS +By Priam and the general state of Troy. +They are at hand and ready to effect it. + +TROILUS How my achievements mock me! +I will go meet them. And, my Lord Aeneas, +We met by chance; you did not find me here. + +AENEAS +Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature +Have not more gift in taciturnity. +[Troilus and Aeneas exit.] + +PANDARUS Is 't possible? No sooner got but lost? The +devil take Antenor! The young prince will go mad. +A plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke 's +neck! + +[Enter Cressida.] + + +CRESSIDA +How now? What's the matter? Who was here? + +PANDARUS Ah, ah! + +CRESSIDA +Why sigh you so profoundly? Where's my lord? +Gone? Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter? + +PANDARUS Would I were as deep under the earth as I +am above! + +CRESSIDA O the gods! What's the matter? + +PANDARUS Pray thee, get thee in. Would thou hadst +ne'er been born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. +O, poor gentleman! A plague upon Antenor! + +CRESSIDA Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees I +beseech you, what's the matter? + +PANDARUS Thou must be gone, wench; thou must be +gone. Thou art changed for Antenor. Thou must to +thy father and be gone from Troilus. 'Twill be his +death; 'twill be his bane. He cannot bear it. + +CRESSIDA +O you immortal gods! I will not go. + +PANDARUS Thou must. + +CRESSIDA +I will not, uncle. I have forgot my father. +I know no touch of consanguinity, +No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near me +As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine, +Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood +If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death +Do to this body what extremes you can, +But the strong base and building of my love +Is as the very center of the Earth, +Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep-- + +PANDARUS Do, do. + +CRESSIDA +Tear my bright hair, and scratch my praised cheeks, +Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break my heart +With sounding "Troilus." I will not go from Troy. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Paris, Troilus, Aeneas, Deiphobus, Antenor, +and Diomedes.] + + +PARIS +It is great morning, and the hour prefixed +For her delivery to this valiant Greek +Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus, +Tell you the lady what she is to do +And haste her to the purpose. + +TROILUS Walk into her house. +I'll bring her to the Grecian presently; +And to his hand when I deliver her, +Think it an altar and thy brother Troilus +A priest there off'ring to it his own heart. [He exits.] + +PARIS I know what 'tis to love, +And would, as I shall pity, I could help.-- +Please you walk in, my lords? +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Pandarus and Cressida, weeping.] + + +PANDARUS Be moderate, be moderate. + +CRESSIDA +Why tell you me of moderation? +The grief is fine, full, perfect that I taste, +And violenteth in a sense as strong +As that which causeth it. How can I moderate it? +If I could temporize with my affection +Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, +The like allayment could I give my grief. +My love admits no qualifying dross; +No more my grief in such a precious loss. + +[Enter Troilus.] + + +PANDARUS Here, here, here he comes. Ah, sweet +ducks! + +CRESSIDA, [embracing Troilus] O Troilus, Troilus! + +PANDARUS What a pair of spectacles is here! Let me +embrace too. "O heart," as the goodly saying is, + O heart, heavy heart, + Why sigh'st thou without breaking? +where he answers again, + Because thou canst not ease thy smart + By friendship nor by speaking. +There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away +nothing, for we may live to have need of such a +verse. We see it, we see it. How now, lambs? + +TROILUS +Cressid, I love thee in so strained a purity +That the blest gods, as angry with my fancy-- +More bright in zeal than the devotion which +Cold lips blow to their deities--take thee from me. + +CRESSIDA Have the gods envy? + +PANDARUS Ay, ay, ay, ay, 'tis too plain a case. + +CRESSIDA +And is it true that I must go from Troy? + +TROILUS +A hateful truth. + +CRESSIDA What, and from Troilus too? + +TROILUS From Troy and Troilus. + +CRESSIDA Is 't possible? + +TROILUS +And suddenly, where injury of chance +Puts back leave-taking, jostles roughly by +All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips +Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents +Our locked embrasures, strangles our dear vows +Even in the birth of our own laboring breath. +We two, that with so many thousand sighs +Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves +With the rude brevity and discharge of one. +Injurious Time now with a robber's haste +Crams his rich thiev'ry up, he knows not how. +As many farewells as be stars in heaven, +With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them, +He fumbles up into a loose adieu +And scants us with a single famished kiss, +Distasted with the salt of broken tears. + +AENEAS, [within] My lord, is the lady ready? + +TROILUS +Hark, you are called. Some say the genius +Cries so to him that instantly must die.-- +Bid them have patience. She shall come anon. + +PANDARUS Where are my tears? Rain, to lay this wind, +or my heart will be blown up by the root. +[He exits.] + +CRESSIDA +I must, then, to the Grecians? + +TROILUS No remedy. + +CRESSIDA +A woeful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks. +When shall we see again? + +TROILUS +Hear me, my love. Be thou but true of heart-- + +CRESSIDA +I true? How now, what wicked deem is this? + +TROILUS +Nay, we must use expostulation kindly, +For it is parting from us. +I speak not "Be thou true" as fearing thee, +For I will throw my glove to Death himself +That there is no maculation in thy heart; +But "Be thou true," say I, to fashion in +My sequent protestation: "Be thou true, +And I will see thee." + +CRESSIDA +O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers +As infinite as imminent! But I'll be true. + +TROILUS +And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve. + +CRESSIDA And you this glove. When shall I see you? +[They exchange love-tokens.] + +TROILUS +I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels, +To give thee nightly visitation. +But yet, be true. + +CRESSIDA O heavens! "Be true" again? + +TROILUS Hear why I speak it, love. +The Grecian youths are full of quality, +Their loving well composed, with gift of nature +flowing, +And swelling o'er with arts and exercise. +How novelty may move, and parts with person, +Alas, a kind of godly jealousy-- +Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin-- +Makes me afeard. + +CRESSIDA O heavens, you love me not! + +TROILUS Die I a villain then! +In this I do not call your faith in question +So mainly as my merit. I cannot sing, +Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, +Nor play at subtle games--fair virtues all, +To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant. +But I can tell that in each grace of these +There lurks a still and dumb-discursive devil +That tempts most cunningly. But be not tempted. + +CRESSIDA Do you think I will? + +TROILUS No. +But something may be done that we will not, +And sometimes we are devils to ourselves +When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, +Presuming on their changeful potency. + +AENEAS, [within] +Nay, good my lord-- + +TROILUS Come, kiss, and let us part. +[They kiss.] + +PARIS, [within] +Brother Troilus! + +TROILUS, [calling] Good brother, come you hither, +And bring Aeneas and the Grecian with you. + +CRESSIDA My lord, will you be true? + +TROILUS +Who, I? Alas, it is my vice, my fault. +Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion, +I with great truth catch mere simplicity. +Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns, +With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. +Fear not my truth. The moral of my wit +Is "plain and true"; there's all the reach of it. + +[Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and +Diomedes.] + +Welcome, Sir Diomed. Here is the lady +Which for Antenor we deliver you. +At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand +And by the way possess thee what she is. +Entreat her fair and, by my soul, fair Greek, +If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword, +Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe +As Priam is in Ilium. + +DIOMEDES Fair Lady Cressid, +So please you, save the thanks this prince expects. +The luster in your eye, heaven in your cheek, +Pleads your fair usage, and to Diomed +You shall be mistress and command him wholly. + +TROILUS +Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously, +To shame the zeal of my petition to thee +In praising her. I tell thee, lord of Greece, +She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises +As thou unworthy to be called her servant. +I charge thee use her well, even for my charge, +For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, +Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, +I'll cut thy throat. + +DIOMEDES O, be not moved, Prince Troilus. +Let me be privileged by my place and message +To be a speaker free. When I am hence, +I'll answer to my lust, and know you, lord, +I'll nothing do on charge. To her own worth +She shall be prized; but that you say "Be 't so," +I speak it in my spirit and honor: "no." + +TROILUS +Come, to the port. I'll tell thee, Diomed, +This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.-- +Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk, +To our own selves bend we our needful talk. +[Cressida, Diomedes, and Troilus exit.] + +[Sound trumpet within.] + +PARIS +Hark, Hector's trumpet. + +AENEAS How have we spent this +morning! +The Prince must think me tardy and remiss +That swore to ride before him to the field. + +PARIS +'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come to field with him. + +DEIPHOBUS Let us make ready straight. + +AENEAS +Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity +Let us address to tend on Hector's heels. +The glory of our Troy doth this day lie +On his fair worth and single chivalry. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Ajax, armed, Achilles, Patroclus, Agamemnon, +Menelaus, Ulysses, Nestor, etc. and Trumpeter.] + + +AGAMEMNON, [to Ajax] +Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, +Anticipating time with starting courage. +Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, +Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air +May pierce the head of the great combatant +And hale him hither. + +AJAX Thou, trumpet, there's my purse. +[He gives money to Trumpeter.] +Now crack thy lungs and split thy brazen pipe. +Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek +Outswell the colic of puffed Aquilon. +Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood. +Thou blowest for Hector. [Sound trumpet.] + +ULYSSES +No trumpet answers. + +ACHILLES 'Tis but early days. + +[Enter Cressida and Diomedes.] + + +AGAMEMNON +Is not yond Diomed with Calchas' daughter? + +ULYSSES +'Tis he. I ken the manner of his gait. +He rises on the toe; that spirit of his +In aspiration lifts him from the earth. + +AGAMEMNON +Is this the Lady Cressid? + +DIOMEDES Even she. + +AGAMEMNON +Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. +[He kisses her.] + +NESTOR +Our general doth salute you with a kiss. + +ULYSSES +Yet is the kindness but particular. +'Twere better she were kissed in general. + +NESTOR +And very courtly counsel. I'll begin. [He kisses her.] +So much for Nestor. + +ACHILLES +I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady. +Achilles bids you welcome. [He kisses her.] + +MENELAUS +I had good argument for kissing once. + +PATROCLUS, [stepping between Menelaus and Cressida] +But that's no argument for kissing now, +For thus popped Paris in his hardiment +And parted thus you and your argument. +[He kisses her.] + +ULYSSES +O deadly gall and theme of all our scorns, +For which we lose our heads to gild his horns! + +PATROCLUS +The first was Menelaus' kiss; this mine. +Patroclus kisses you. [He kisses her again.] + +MENELAUS O, this is trim! + +PATROCLUS +Paris and I kiss evermore for him. + +MENELAUS +I'll have my kiss, sir.--Lady, by your leave. + +CRESSIDA +In kissing, do you render or receive? + +MENELAUS +Both take and give. + +CRESSIDA I'll make my match to live, +The kiss you take is better than you give. +Therefore no kiss. + +MENELAUS +I'll give you boot: I'll give you three for one. + +CRESSIDA +You are an odd man. Give even, or give none. + +MENELAUS +An odd man, lady? Every man is odd. + +CRESSIDA +No, Paris is not, for you know 'tis true +That you are odd, and he is even with you. + +MENELAUS +You fillip me o' th' head. + +CRESSIDA No, I'll be sworn. + +ULYSSES +It were no match, your nail against his horn. +May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you? + +CRESSIDA +You may. + +ULYSSES I do desire it. + +CRESSIDA Why, beg two. + +ULYSSES +Why, then, for Venus' sake, give me a kiss +When Helen is a maid again and his. + +CRESSIDA +I am your debtor; claim it when 'tis due. + +ULYSSES +Never's my day, and then a kiss of you. + +DIOMEDES +Lady, a word. I'll bring you to your father. +[Diomedes and Cressida talk aside.] + +NESTOR +A woman of quick sense. + +ULYSSES Fie, fie upon her! +There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; +Nay, her foot speaks. Her wanton spirits look out +At every joint and motive of her body. +O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, +That give accosting welcome ere it comes +And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts +To every tickling reader! Set them down +For sluttish spoils of opportunity +And daughters of the game. +[Diomedes and Cressida exit.] +[Flourish.] + +ALL +The Trojan's trumpet. + +[Enter all of Troy: Hector, armed, Paris, Aeneas, +Helenus, Troilus, and Attendants.] + + +AGAMEMNON Yonder comes the troop. + +AENEAS +Hail, all the state of Greece! What shall be done +To him that victory commands? Or do you purpose +A victor shall be known? Will you the knights +Shall to the edge of all extremity +Pursue each other, or shall they be divided +By any voice or order of the field? +Hector bade ask. + +AGAMEMNON Which way would Hector have it? + +AENEAS +He cares not; he'll obey conditions. + +AGAMEMNON +'Tis done like Hector. + +ACHILLES But securely done, +A little proudly, and great deal misprizing +The knight opposed. + +AENEAS If not Achilles, sir, +What is your name? + +ACHILLES If not Achilles, nothing. + +AENEAS +Therefore Achilles. But whate'er, know this: +In the extremity of great and little, +Valor and pride excel themselves in Hector, +The one almost as infinite as all, +The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well, +And that which looks like pride is courtesy. +This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood, +In love whereof half Hector stays at home; +Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek +This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek. + +ACHILLES +A maiden battle, then? O, I perceive you. + +[Enter Diomedes.] + + +AGAMEMNON +Here is Sir Diomed.--Go, gentle knight; +Stand by our Ajax. As you and Lord Aeneas +Consent upon the order of their fight, +So be it, either to the uttermost +Or else a breath. The combatants being kin +Half stints their strife before their strokes begin. + +[Hector and Ajax enter the lists.] + +ULYSSES They are opposed already. + +AGAMEMNON +What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy? + +ULYSSES +The youngest son of Priam, a true knight, +Not yet mature, yet matchless firm of word, +Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue, +Not soon provoked, nor being provoked soon calmed, +His heart and hand both open and both free. +For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he shows; +Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, +Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath; +Manly as Hector, but more dangerous, +For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes +To tender objects, but he in heat of action +Is more vindicative than jealous love. +They call him Troilus, and on him erect +A second hope, as fairly built as Hector. +Thus says Aeneas, one that knows the youth +Even to his inches, and with private soul +Did in great Ilium thus translate him to me. +[Alarum. The fight begins.] + +AGAMEMNON They are in action. + +NESTOR Now, Ajax, hold thine own! + +TROILUS Hector, thou sleep'st. Awake thee! + +AGAMEMNON +His blows are well disposed.--There, Ajax! +[Trumpets cease.] + +DIOMEDES +You must no more. + +AENEAS Princes, enough, so please you. + +AJAX +I am not warm yet. Let us fight again. + +DIOMEDES +As Hector pleases. + +HECTOR Why, then, will I no more.-- +Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, +A cousin-german to great Priam's seed. +The obligation of our blood forbids +A gory emulation 'twixt us twain. +Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so +That thou couldst say "This hand is Grecian all, +And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg +All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood +Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister +Bounds in my father's," by Jove multipotent, +Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member +Wherein my sword had not impressure made +Of our rank feud. But the just gods gainsay +That any drop thou borrowd'st from thy mother, +My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword +Be drained. Let me embrace thee, Ajax. +By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms! +Hector would have them fall upon him thus. +Cousin, all honor to thee! [They embrace.] + +AJAX I thank thee, Hector. +Thou art too gentle and too free a man. +I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence +A great addition earned in thy death. + +HECTOR +Not Neoptolemus so mirable-- +On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st "Oyez" +Cries "This is he"--could promise to himself +A thought of added honor torn from Hector. + +AENEAS +There is expectance here from both the sides +What further you will do. + +HECTOR We'll answer it; +The issue is embracement.--Ajax, farewell. +[They embrace again.] + +AJAX +If I might in entreaties find success, +As seld I have the chance, I would desire +My famous cousin to our Grecian tents. + +DIOMEDES +'Tis Agamemnon's wish; and great Achilles +Doth long to see unarmed the valiant Hector. + +HECTOR +Aeneas, call my brother Troilus to me, +And signify this loving interview +To the expecters of our Trojan part; +Desire them home. +[Aeneas speaks to Trojans, who exit; he then +returns with Troilus.] +[To Ajax.] Give me thy hand, my cousin. +I will go eat with thee and see your knights. +[Agamemnon and the rest come forward.] + +AJAX +Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. + +HECTOR, [to Aeneas] +The worthiest of them tell me name by name; +But for Achilles, my own searching eyes +Shall find him by his large and portly size. + +AGAMEMNON +Worthy all arms! As welcome as to one +That would be rid of such an enemy-- +But that's no welcome. Understand more clear: +What's past and what's to come is strewed with husks +And formless ruin of oblivion; +But in this extant moment, faith and troth, +Strained purely from all hollow bias-drawing, +Bids thee, with most divine integrity, +From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome. + +HECTOR +I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. + +AGAMEMNON, [to Troilus] +My well-famed lord of Troy, no less to you. + +MENELAUS +Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting: +You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. + +HECTOR, [to Aeneas] +Who must we answer? + +AENEAS The noble Menelaus. + +HECTOR +O, you, my lord? By Mars his gauntlet, thanks! +Mock not that I affect th' untraded oath; +Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove. +She's well, but bade me not commend her to you. + +MENELAUS +Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme. + +HECTOR O, pardon! I offend. + +NESTOR +I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, +Laboring for destiny, make cruel way +Through ranks of Greekish youth; and I have seen +thee, +As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, +Despising many forfeits and subduments, +When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' th' air, +Not letting it decline on the declined, +That I have said to some my standers-by +"Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!" +And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath +When that a ring of Greeks have hemmed thee in, +Like an Olympian wrestling. This have I seen. +But this thy countenance, still locked in steel, +I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire +And once fought with him; he was a soldier good, +But, by great Mars, the captain of us all, +Never like thee! O, let an old man embrace thee; +And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. + +AENEAS, [to Hector] 'Tis the old Nestor. + +HECTOR +Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle +That hast so long walked hand in hand with time. +Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee. +[They embrace.] + +NESTOR +I would my arms could match thee in contention +As they contend with thee in courtesy. + +HECTOR I would they could. + +NESTOR +Ha! By this white beard, I'd fight with thee tomorrow. +Well, welcome, welcome. I have seen the time! + +ULYSSES +I wonder now how yonder city stands +When we have here her base and pillar by us. + +HECTOR +I know your favor, Lord Ulysses, well. +Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead +Since first I saw yourself and Diomed +In Ilium, on your Greekish embassy. + +ULYSSES +Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue. +My prophecy is but half his journey yet, +For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, +Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, +Must kiss their own feet. + +HECTOR I must not believe you. +There they stand yet, and modestly I think +The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost +A drop of Grecian blood. The end crowns all, +And that old common arbitrator, Time, +Will one day end it. + +ULYSSES So to him we leave it. +Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome. +After the General, I beseech you next +To feast with me and see me at my tent. + +ACHILLES +I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!-- +Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; +I have with exact view perused thee, Hector, +And quoted joint by joint. + +HECTOR Is this Achilles? + +ACHILLES I am Achilles. + +HECTOR +Stand fair, I pray thee. Let me look on thee. + +ACHILLES +Behold thy fill. + +HECTOR Nay, I have done already. + +ACHILLES +Thou art too brief. I will the second time, +As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. + +HECTOR +O, like a book of sport thou 'lt read me o'er; +But there's more in me than thou understand'st. +Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye? + +ACHILLES +Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body +Shall I destroy him--whether there, or there, or +there-- +That I may give the local wound a name +And make distinct the very breach whereout +Hector's great spirit flew. Answer me, heavens! + +HECTOR +It would discredit the blest gods, proud man, +To answer such a question. Stand again. +Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly +As to prenominate in nice conjecture +Where thou wilt hit me dead? + +ACHILLES I tell thee, yea. + +HECTOR +Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, +I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well, +For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there, +But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, +I'll kill thee everywhere, yea, o'er and o'er.-- +You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag; +His insolence draws folly from my lips. +But I'll endeavor deeds to match these words, +Or may I never-- + +AJAX Do not chafe thee, cousin.-- +And you, Achilles, let these threats alone +Till accident or purpose bring you to 't. +You may have every day enough of Hector +If you have stomach. The general state, I fear, +Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. + +HECTOR, [to Achilles] +I pray you, let us see you in the field. +We have had pelting wars since you refused +The Grecians' cause. + +ACHILLES Dost thou entreat me, Hector? +Tomorrow do I meet thee, fell as death; +Tonight all friends. + +HECTOR Thy hand upon that match. + +AGAMEMNON +First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent; +There in the full convive we. Afterwards, +As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall +Concur together, severally entreat him. +Beat loud the taborins; let the trumpets blow, +That this great soldier may his welcome know. +[Flourish.] +[All but Troilus and Ulysses exit.] + +TROILUS +My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, +In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? + +ULYSSES +At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus. +There Diomed doth feast with him tonight, +Who neither looks upon the heaven nor Earth, +But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view +On the fair Cressid. + +TROILUS +Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, +After we part from Agamemnon's tent, +To bring me thither? + +ULYSSES You shall command me, sir. +As gentle tell me, of what honor was +This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there +That wails her absence? + +TROILUS +O sir, to such as boasting show their scars +A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? +She was beloved, she loved; she is, and doth; +But still sweet love is food for Fortune's tooth. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Achilles and Patroclus.] + + +ACHILLES +I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine tonight, +Which with my scimitar I'll cool tomorrow. +Patroclus, let us feast him to the height. + +PATROCLUS +Here comes Thersites. + +[Enter Thersites.] + + +ACHILLES How now, thou core of envy? +Thou crusty botch of nature, what's the news? + +THERSITES Why, thou picture of what thou seemest and +idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee. + +ACHILLES From whence, fragment? + +THERSITES Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. +[Achilles takes the letter and moves aside to read it.] + +PATROCLUS Who keeps the tent now? + +THERSITES The surgeon's box or the patient's wound. + +PATROCLUS Well said, adversity. And what need these +tricks? + +THERSITES Prithee, be silent, boy. I profit not by thy +talk. Thou art said to be Achilles' male varlet. + +PATROCLUS "Male varlet," you rogue! What's that? + +THERSITES Why, his masculine whore. Now the rotten +diseases of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, +catarrhs, loads o' gravel in the back, lethargies, +cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, whissing +lungs, bladders full of impostume, sciaticas, +limekilns i' th' palm, incurable bone-ache, and the +rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take +again such preposterous discoveries. + +PATROCLUS Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, +what means thou to curse thus? + +THERSITES Do I curse thee? + +PATROCLUS Why, no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson +indistinguishable cur, no. + +THERSITES No? Why art thou then exasperate, thou idle +immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarsenet +flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, +thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such +waterflies, diminutives of nature! + +PATROCLUS Out, gall! + +THERSITES Finch egg! + +ACHILLES, [coming forward] +My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite +From my great purpose in tomorrow's battle. +Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, +A token from her daughter, my fair love, +Both taxing me and gaging me to keep +An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it. +Fall, Greeks; fail, fame; honor, or go or stay; +My major vow lies here; this I'll obey. +Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent. +This night in banqueting must all be spent. +Away, Patroclus. [He exits with Patroclus.] + +THERSITES With too much blood and too little brain, +these two may run mad; but if with too much brain +and too little blood they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. +Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough +and one that loves quails, but he has not so much +brain as earwax. And the goodly transformation +of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull--the primitive +statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds, a +thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his +brother's leg--to what form but that he is should +wit larded with malice and malice forced with +wit turn him to? To an ass were nothing; he is both +ass and ox. To an ox were nothing; he is both ox +and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a +toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without +a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus! I +would conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I +would be, if I were not Thersites, for I care not to be +the louse of a lazar so I were not Menelaus. + +[Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulysses, +Nestor, Menelaus, and Diomedes, with lights.] + +Heyday! Sprites and fires! + +AGAMEMNON We go wrong, we go wrong. + +AJAX +No, yonder--'tis there, where we see the lights. + +HECTOR I trouble you. + +AJAX No, not a whit. + +[Enter Achilles.] + + +ULYSSES, [to Hector] Here comes himself to guide you. + +ACHILLES +Welcome, brave Hector. Welcome, princes all. + +AGAMEMNON, [to Hector] +So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night. +Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. + +HECTOR +Thanks, and good night to the Greeks' general. + +MENELAUS +Good night, my lord. + +HECTOR Good night, sweet lord +Menelaus. + +THERSITES, [aside] Sweet draught. "Sweet," quoth he? +Sweet sink, sweet sewer. + +ACHILLES +Good night and welcome, both at once, to those +That go or tarry. + +AGAMEMNON Good night. +[Agamemnon and Menelaus exit.] + +ACHILLES +Old Nestor tarries, and you too, Diomed. +Keep Hector company an hour or two. + +DIOMEDES +I cannot, lord. I have important business, +The tide whereof is now.--Good night, great Hector. + +HECTOR Give me your hand. + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +Follow his torch; he goes to Calchas' tent. +I'll keep you company. + +TROILUS Sweet sir, you honor me. + +HECTOR +And so, good night. +[Diomedes exits, followed by Troilus and Ulysses.] + +ACHILLES Come, come, enter my tent. +[Achilles, Ajax, Nestor, and Hector exit.] + +THERSITES That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, +a most unjust knave. I will no more trust him when +he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses. He +will spend his mouth and promise like Brabbler +the hound, but when he performs, astronomers +foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some +change. The sun borrows of the moon when +Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to see +Hector than not to dog him. They say he keeps a +Trojan drab and uses the traitor Calchas his tent. +I'll after. Nothing but lechery! All incontinent varlets! +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Diomedes.] + + +DIOMEDES What, are you up here, ho? Speak. + +CALCHAS, [within] Who calls? + +DIOMEDES Diomed. Calchas, I think? Where's your +daughter? + +CALCHAS, [within] She comes to you. + +[Enter Troilus and Ulysses, at a distance, and then, +apart from them, Thersites.] + + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +Stand where the torch may not discover us. + +[Enter Cressida.] + + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +Cressid comes forth to him. + +DIOMEDES How now, my charge? + +CRESSIDA +Now, my sweet guardian. Hark, a word with you. +[She whispers to him.] + +TROILUS, [aside] Yea, so familiar? + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] She will sing any man at +first sight. + +THERSITES, [aside] And any man may sing her, if he +can take her clef. She's noted. + +DIOMEDES Will you remember? + +CRESSIDA Remember? Yes. + +DIOMEDES Nay, but do, then, and let your mind be +coupled with your words. + +TROILUS, [aside] What should she remember? + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] List! + +CRESSIDA +Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. + +THERSITES, [aside] Roguery! + +DIOMEDES Nay, then-- + +CRESSIDA I'll tell you what-- + +DIOMEDES +Foh, foh, come, tell a pin! You are forsworn. + +CRESSIDA +In faith, I cannot. What would you have me do? + +THERSITES, [aside] A juggling trick: to be secretly open! + +DIOMEDES +What did you swear you would bestow on me? + +CRESSIDA +I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath. +Bid me do anything but that, sweet Greek. + +DIOMEDES Good night. + +TROILUS, [aside] Hold, patience! + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] How now, Trojan? + +CRESSIDA Diomed-- + +DIOMEDES +No, no, good night. I'll be your fool no more. + +TROILUS, [aside] Thy better must. + +CRESSIDA Hark, a word in your ear. +[She whispers to him.] + +TROILUS, [aside] O plague and madness! + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +You are moved, prince. Let us depart, I pray you, +Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself +To wrathful terms. This place is dangerous; +The time right deadly. I beseech you, go. + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +Behold, I pray you. + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] Nay, good my lord, go off. +You flow to great distraction. Come, my lord. + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +I prithee, stay. + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] You have not patience. Come. + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +I pray you, stay. By hell and all hell's torments, +I will not speak a word. + +DIOMEDES +And so good night. [He starts to leave.] + +CRESSIDA Nay, but you part in anger. + +TROILUS, [aside] Doth that grieve thee? O withered +truth! + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +How now, my lord? + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] By Jove, I will be patient. + +CRESSIDA +Guardian! Why, Greek! + +DIOMEDES Foh foh! Adieu. You palter. + +CRESSIDA +In faith, I do not. Come hither once again. + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +You shake, my lord, at something. Will you go? +You will break out. + +TROILUS, [aside] She strokes his cheek! + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] Come, come. + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +Nay, stay. By Jove, I will not speak a word. +There is between my will and all offenses +A guard of patience. Stay a little while. + +THERSITES, [aside] How the devil Luxury, with his fat +rump and potato finger, tickles these together. +Fry, lechery, fry! + +DIOMEDES But will you, then? + +CRESSIDA +In faith, I will, la. Never trust me else. + +DIOMEDES +Give me some token for the surety of it. + +CRESSIDA I'll fetch you one. [She exits.] + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] +You have sworn patience. + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] Fear me not, my lord. +I will not be myself nor have cognition +Of what I feel. I am all patience. + +[Enter Cressida with Troilus's sleeve.] + + +THERSITES, [aside] Now the pledge, now, now, now! + +CRESSIDA, [giving the sleeve] Here, Diomed. Keep this +sleeve. + +TROILUS, [aside] O beauty, where is thy faith? + +ULYSSES, [aside to Troilus] My lord-- + +TROILUS, [aside to Ulysses] +I will be patient; outwardly I will. + +CRESSIDA +You look upon that sleeve? Behold it well. +He loved me--O false wench!--Give 't me again. +[She snatches the sleeve from Diomedes.] + +DIOMEDES Whose was 't? + +CRESSIDA +It is no matter, now I ha 't again. +I will not meet with you tomorrow night. +I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. + +THERSITES, [aside] Now she sharpens. Well said, +whetstone. + +DIOMEDES I shall have it. + +CRESSIDA What, this? + +DIOMEDES Ay, that. + +CRESSIDA +O all you gods!--O pretty, pretty pledge! +Thy master now lies thinking on his bed +Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, +And gives memorial dainty kisses to it +As I kiss thee. +[He grabs the sleeve, and she tries to retrieve it.] + +DIOMEDES Nay, do not snatch it from me. + +CRESSIDA +He that takes that doth take my heart withal. + +DIOMEDES +I had your heart before. This follows it. + +TROILUS, [aside] I did swear patience. + +CRESSIDA +You shall not have it, Diomed, faith, you shall not. +I'll give you something else. + +DIOMEDES I will have this. Whose was it? + +CRESSIDA It is no matter. + +DIOMEDES Come, tell me whose it was. + +CRESSIDA +'Twas one's that loved me better than you will. +But now you have it, take it. + +DIOMEDES Whose was it? + +CRESSIDA +By all Diana's waiting-women yond, +And by herself, I will not tell you whose. + +DIOMEDES +Tomorrow will I wear it on my helm +And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. + +TROILUS, [aside] +Wert thou the devil and wor'st it on thy horn, +It should be challenged. + +CRESSIDA +Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past. And yet it is not. +I will not keep my word. + +DIOMEDES Why, then, farewell. +Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. +[He starts to leave.] + +CRESSIDA +You shall not go. One cannot speak a word +But it straight starts you. + +DIOMEDES I do not like this fooling. + +TROILUS, [aside] +Nor I, by Pluto! But that that likes not you +Pleases me best. + +DIOMEDES What, shall I come? The hour? + +CRESSIDA +Ay, come.--O Jove!--Do, come.--I shall be plagued. + +DIOMEDES +Farewell, till then. + +CRESSIDA Good night. I prithee, come.-- +[He exits.] +Troilus, farewell. One eye yet looks on thee, +But with my heart the other eye doth see. +Ah, poor our sex! This fault in us I find: +The error of our eye directs our mind. +What error leads must err. O, then conclude: +Minds swayed by eyes are full of turpitude. [She exits.] + +THERSITES, [aside] +A proof of strength she could not publish more, +Unless she said "My mind is now turned whore." + +ULYSSES +All's done, my lord. + +TROILUS It is. + +ULYSSES Why stay we then? + +TROILUS +To make a recordation to my soul +Of every syllable that here was spoke. +But if I tell how these two did co-act, +Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? +Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, +An esperance so obstinately strong. +That doth invert th' attest of eyes and ears, +As if those organs had deceptious functions, +Created only to calumniate. +Was Cressid here? + +ULYSSES I cannot conjure, Trojan. + +TROILUS She was not, sure. + +ULYSSES Most sure she was. + +TROILUS +Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. + +ULYSSES +Nor mine, my lord. Cressid was here but now. + +TROILUS +Let it not be believed for womanhood! +Think, we had mothers. Do not give advantage +To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme +For depravation, to square the general sex +By Cressid's rule. Rather, think this not Cressid. + +ULYSSES +What hath she done, prince, that can soil our +mothers? + +TROILUS +Nothing at all, unless that this were she. + +THERSITES, [aside] Will he swagger himself out on 's +own eyes? + +TROILUS +This she? No, this is Diomed's Cressida. +If beauty have a soul, this is not she; +If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies, +If sanctimony be the gods' delight, +If there be rule in unity itself, +This is not she. O madness of discourse, +That cause sets up with and against itself! +Bifold authority, where reason can revolt +Without perdition, and loss assume all reason +Without revolt. This is and is not Cressid. +Within my soul there doth conduce a fight +Of this strange nature, that a thing inseparate +Divides more wider than the sky and Earth, +And yet the spacious breadth of this division +Admits no orifex for a point as subtle +As Ariachne's broken woof to enter. +Instance, O instance, strong as Pluto's gates, +Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven; +Instance, O instance, strong as heaven itself, +The bonds of heaven are slipped, dissolved, and +loosed, +And with another knot, five-finger-tied, +The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, +The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics +Of her o'er-eaten faith are given to Diomed. + +ULYSSES +May worthy Troilus be half attached +With that which here his passion doth express? + +TROILUS +Ay, Greek, and that shall be divulged well +In characters as red as Mars his heart +Inflamed with Venus. Never did young man fancy +With so eternal and so fixed a soul. +Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love, +So much by weight hate I her Diomed. +That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm. +Were it a casque composed by Vulcan's skill, +My sword should bite it. Not the dreadful spout +Which shipmen do the hurricano call, +Constringed in mass by the almighty sun, +Shall dizzy with more clamor Neptune's ear +In his descent than shall my prompted sword +Falling on Diomed. + +THERSITES, [aside] He'll tickle it for his concupy. + +TROILUS +O Cressid! O false Cressid! False, false, false! +Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, +And they'll seem glorious. + +ULYSSES O, contain yourself. +Your passion draws ears hither. + +[Enter Aeneas.] + + +AENEAS, [to Troilus] +I have been seeking you this hour, my lord. +Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy. +Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home. + +TROILUS +Have with you, prince.--My courteous lord, adieu.-- +Farewell, revolted fair!--And, Diomed, +Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head! + +ULYSSES I'll bring you to the gates. + +TROILUS Accept distracted thanks. +[Troilus, Aeneas, and Ulysses exit.] + +THERSITES Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I +would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would +bode. Patroclus will give me anything for the intelligence +of this whore. The parrot will not do more +for an almond than he for a commodious drab. +Lechery, lechery, still wars and lechery! Nothing +else holds fashion. A burning devil take them! +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Hector, armed, and Andromache.] + + +ANDROMACHE +When was my lord so much ungently tempered +To stop his ears against admonishment? +Unarm, unarm, and do not fight today. + +HECTOR +You train me to offend you. Get you in. +By all the everlasting gods, I'll go! + +ANDROMACHE +My dreams will sure prove ominous to the day. + +HECTOR +No more, I say. + +[Enter Cassandra.] + + +CASSANDRA Where is my brother Hector? + +ANDROMACHE +Here, sister, armed and bloody in intent. +Consort with me in loud and dear petition; +Pursue we him on knees. For I have dreamt +Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night +Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter. + +CASSANDRA +O, 'tis true! + +HECTOR, [calling out] Ho! Bid my trumpet sound! + +CASSANDRA +No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother! + +HECTOR +Begone, I say. The gods have heard me swear. + +CASSANDRA +The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows. +They are polluted off'rings more abhorred +Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. + +ANDROMACHE, [to Hector] +O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy +To hurt by being just. It is as lawful, +For we would give much, to use violent thefts +And rob in the behalf of charity. + +CASSANDRA +It is the purpose that makes strong the vow, +But vows to every purpose must not hold. +Unarm, sweet Hector. + +HECTOR Hold you still, I say. +Mine honor keeps the weather of my fate. +Life every man holds dear, but the dear man +Holds honor far more precious-dear than life. + +[Enter Troilus, armed.] + +How now, young man? Meanest thou to fight today? + +ANDROMACHE +Cassandra, call my father to persuade. +[Cassandra exits.] + +HECTOR +No, faith, young Troilus, doff thy harness, youth. +I am today i' th' vein of chivalry. +Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, +And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. +Unarm thee, go, and doubt thou not, brave boy, +I'll stand today for thee and me and Troy. + +TROILUS +Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you +Which better fits a lion than a man. + +HECTOR +What vice is that? Good Troilus, chide me for it. + +TROILUS +When many times the captive Grecian falls, +Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword, +You bid them rise and live. + +HECTOR +O, 'tis fair play. + +TROILUS Fool's play, by heaven. Hector. + +HECTOR +How now? How now? + +TROILUS For th' love of all the gods, +Let's leave the hermit Pity with our mother, +And when we have our armors buckled on, +The venomed Vengeance ride upon our swords, +Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth. + +HECTOR +Fie, savage, fie! + +TROILUS Hector, then 'tis wars. + +HECTOR +Troilus, I would not have you fight today. + +TROILUS Who should withhold me? +Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars, +Beck'ning with fiery truncheon my retire; +Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, +Their eyes o'er-galled with recourse of tears; +Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn +Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way, +But by my ruin. + +[Enter Priam and Cassandra.] + + +CASSANDRA, [indicating Hector] +Lay hold upon him, Priam; hold him fast. +He is thy crutch. Now if thou loose thy stay, +Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, +Fall all together. + +PRIAM Come, Hector, come. Go back. +Thy wife hath dreamt, thy mother hath had visions, +Cassandra doth foresee, and I myself +Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt +To tell thee that this day is ominous. +Therefore, come back. + +HECTOR Aeneas is afield, +And I do stand engaged to many Greeks, +Even in the faith of valor, to appear +This morning to them. + +PRIAM Ay, but thou shalt not go. + +HECTOR I must not break my faith. +You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, +Let me not shame respect, but give me leave +To take that course by your consent and voice +Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. + +CASSANDRA +O Priam, yield not to him! + +ANDROMACHE Do not, dear father. + +HECTOR +Andromache, I am offended with you. +Upon the love you bear me, get you in. +[Andromache exits.] + +TROILUS +This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl +Makes all these bodements. + +CASSANDRA O farewell, dear Hector. +Look how thou diest! Look how thy eye turns pale! +Look how thy wounds do bleed at many vents! +Hark, how Troy roars, how Hecuba cries out, +How poor Andromache shrills her dolor forth! +Behold, distraction, frenzy, and amazement, +Like witless antics, one another meet, +And all cry "Hector! Hector's dead! O, Hector!" + +TROILUS Away, away! + +CASSANDRA +Farewell.--Yet soft! Hector, I take my leave. +Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. [She exits.] + +HECTOR +You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim. +Go in and cheer the town. We'll forth and fight, +Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. + +PRIAM +Farewell. The gods with safety stand about thee! +[Hector and Priam exit at separate doors.] +[Alarum.] + +TROILUS +They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe, +I come to lose my arm or win my sleeve. + +[Enter Pandarus, with a paper.] + + +PANDARUS Do you hear, my lord? Do you hear? + +TROILUS What now? + +PANDARUS Here's a letter come from yond poor girl. + +TROILUS Let me read. [He reads.] + +PANDARUS A whoreson phthisic, a whoreson rascally +phthisic so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of +this girl, and what one thing, what another, that I +shall leave you one o' these days. And I have a +rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my +bones that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell +what to think on 't.--What says she there? + +TROILUS +Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart. +Th' effect doth operate another way. +Go, wind, to wind! There turn and change together. +[He tears up the paper and throws the pieces in the air.] +My love with words and errors still she feeds, +But edifies another with her deeds. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Alarum. Excursions. Enter Thersites.] + + +THERSITES Now they are clapper-clawing one another. +I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet, +Diomed, has got that same scurvy doting foolish +young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm. +I would fain see them meet, that that same young +Trojan ass that loves the whore there might send +that Greekish whoremasterly villain with the sleeve +back to the dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless +errand. O' th' t'other side, the policy of those +crafty swearing rascals--that stale old mouse-eaten +dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, +Ulysses--is proved not worth a blackberry. They +set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against +that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles. And now is the +cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will +not arm today, whereupon the Grecians begin to +proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill +opinion. + +[Enter Diomedes, and Troilus pursuing him.] + +Soft! Here comes sleeve and t' other. +[Thersites moves aside.] + +TROILUS, [to Diomedes] +Fly not, for shouldst thou take the river Styx +I would swim after. + +DIOMEDES Thou dost miscall retire. +I do not fly, but advantageous care +Withdrew me from the odds of multitude. +Have at thee! [They fight.] + +THERSITES Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now for thy +whore, Trojan! Now the sleeve, now the sleeve! +[Diomedes and Troilus exit fighting.] + +[Enter Hector.] + + +HECTOR +What art thou, Greek? Art thou for Hector's match? +Art thou of blood and honor? + +THERSITES No, no, I am a rascal, a scurvy railing +knave, a very filthy rogue. + +HECTOR I do believe thee. Live. [He exits.] + +THERSITES God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me! +But a plague break thy neck for frighting me! +What's become of the wenching rogues? I think +they have swallowed one another. I would laugh at +that miracle--yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll +seek them. +[He exits.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Diomedes and Servingman.] + + +DIOMEDES +Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse; +Present the fair steed to my Lady Cressid. +Fellow, commend my service to her beauty. +Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan +And am her knight by proof. + +MAN I go, my lord. [He exits.] + +[Enter Agamemnon.] + + +AGAMEMNON +Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas +Hath beat down Menon; bastard Margareton +Hath Doreus prisoner, +And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam +Upon the pashed corses of the kings +Epistrophus and Cedius. Polyxenes is slain, +Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt, +Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes +Sore hurt and bruised. The dreadful Sagittary +Appals our numbers. Haste we, Diomed, +To reinforcement, or we perish all. + +[Enter Nestor, with Soldiers bearing the body of +Patroclus.] + + +NESTOR +Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles, +And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame. +[Soldiers exit with Patroclus's body.] +There is a thousand Hectors in the field. +Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, +And here lacks work; anon he's there afoot +And there they fly or die, like scaled schools +Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, +And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, +Fall down before him like a mower's swath. +Here, there, and everywhere he leaves and takes, +Dexterity so obeying appetite +That what he will he does, and does so much +That proof is called impossibility. + +[Enter Ulysses.] + + +ULYSSES +O, courage, courage, princes! Great Achilles +Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance. +Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood, +Together with his mangled Myrmidons, +That noseless, handless, hacked and chipped, come +to him, +Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend +And foams at mouth, and he is armed and at it, +Roaring for Troilus, who hath done today +Mad and fantastic execution, +Engaging and redeeming of himself +With such a careless force and forceless care +As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, +Bade him win all. + +[Enter Ajax.] + + +AJAX Troilus, thou coward Troilus! [He exits.] + +DIOMEDES Ay, there, there! [He exits.] + +NESTOR So, so, we draw together. + +[Enter Achilles.] + + +ACHILLES Where is this Hector?-- +Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face! +Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. +Hector! Where's Hector? I will none but Hector. +[He exits, with the others.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter Ajax.] + + +AJAX +Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head! + +[Enter Diomedes.] + + +DIOMEDES Troilus, I say! Where's Troilus? + +AJAX What wouldst thou? + +DIOMEDES I would correct him. + +AJAX +Were I the General, thou shouldst have my office +Ere that correction.--Troilus, I say! What, Troilus! + +[Enter Troilus.] + + +TROILUS +O traitor Diomed! Turn thy false face, thou traitor, +And pay the life thou owest me for my horse! + +DIOMEDES Ha! Art thou there? + +AJAX +I'll fight with him alone. Stand, Diomed. + +DIOMEDES +He is my prize. I will not look upon. + +TROILUS +Come, both you cogging Greeks. Have at you both! + +[Enter Hector.] + +[Troilus exits, fighting Diomedes and Ajax.] + +HECTOR +Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother! + +[Enter Achilles.] + + +ACHILLES +Now do I see thee. Ha! Have at thee, Hector! +[They fight.] + +HECTOR Pause if thou wilt. + +ACHILLES +I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan. +Be happy that my arms are out of use. +My rest and negligence befriends thee now, +But thou anon shalt hear of me again; +Till when, go seek thy fortune. [He exits.] + +HECTOR Fare thee well. +I would have been much more a fresher man +Had I expected thee. + +[Enter Troilus.] + +How now, my brother? + +TROILUS +Ajax hath ta'en Aeneas. Shall it be? +No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, +He shall not carry him. I'll be ta'en too +Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say! +I reck not though I end my life today. +[He exits.] + +[Enter one in Greek armor.] + + +HECTOR +Stand, stand, thou Greek! Thou art a goodly mark. +No? Wilt thou not? I like thy armor well. +I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all, +But I'll be master of it. [The Greek exits.] +Wilt thou not, beast, abide? +Why then, fly on. I'll hunt thee for thy hide. +[He exits.] + +Scene 7 +======= +[Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.] + + +ACHILLES +Come here about me, you my Myrmidons. +Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel. +Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath, +And, when I have the bloody Hector found, +Empale him with your weapons round about. +In fellest manner execute your arms. +Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye. +It is decreed Hector the great must die. +[They exit.] + +Scene 8 +======= +[Enter Thersites; then Menelaus fighting Paris.] + + +THERSITES The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at +it. Now, bull! Now, dog! Loo, Paris, loo! Now, my +double-horned Spartan! Loo, Paris, loo! The bull +has the game. Ware horns, ho! +[Paris and Menelaus exit, fighting.] + +[Enter Bastard.] + + +BASTARD Turn, slave, and fight. + +THERSITES What art thou? + +BASTARD A bastard son of Priam's. + +THERSITES I am a bastard too. I love bastards. I am +bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, +bastard in valor, in everything illegitimate. One +bear will not bite another, and wherefore should +one bastard? Take heed: the quarrel's most ominous +to us. If the son of a whore fight for a whore, +he tempts judgment. Farewell, bastard. [He exits.] + +BASTARD The devil take thee, coward! +[He exits.] + +Scene 9 +======= +[Enter Hector, with the body of the Greek in armor.] + + +HECTOR +Most putrefied core, so fair without, +Thy goodly armor thus hath cost thy life. +Now is my day's work done. I'll take my breath. +Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death. +[He begins to disarm.] + +[Enter Achilles and his Myrmidons.] + + +ACHILLES +Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set, +How ugly night comes breathing at his heels. +Even with the vail and dark'ning of the sun +To close the day up, Hector's life is done. + +HECTOR +I am unarmed. Forgo this vantage, Greek. + +ACHILLES +Strike, fellows, strike! This is the man I seek. +[The Myrmidons kill Hector.] +So, Ilium, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down! +Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. +On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain +"Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain." +[Retreat sounded from both armies.] +Hark! A retire upon our Grecian part. + +A MYRMIDON +The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. + +ACHILLES +The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the Earth +And, stickler-like, the armies separates. +My half-supped sword, that frankly would have fed, +Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed. +[He sheathes his sword.] +Come, tie his body to my horse's tail; +Along the field I will the Trojan trail. +[They exit with the bodies.] + +Scene 10 +======== +[Sound retreat. Enter Agamemnon, Ajax, Menelaus, +Nestor, Diomedes, and the rest, marching to the beat of +drums. Shout within.] + + +AGAMEMNON Hark, hark, what shout is this? + +NESTOR Peace, drums! [The drums cease.] + +SOLDIERS, [within] +Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles! + +DIOMEDES +The bruit is Hector's slain, and by Achilles. + +AJAX +If it be so, yet bragless let it be. +Great Hector was as good a man as he. + +AGAMEMNON +March patiently along. Let one be sent +To pray Achilles see us at our tent. +If in his death the gods have us befriended, +Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. +[They exit, marching.] + +Scene 11 +======== +[Enter Aeneas, Paris, Antenor, Deiphobus, and Trojan +soldiers.] + + +AENEAS +Stand, ho! Yet are we masters of the field. +Never go home; here starve we out the night. + +[Enter Troilus.] + + +TROILUS +Hector is slain. + +ALL Hector! The gods forbid! + +TROILUS +He's dead, and at the murderer's horse's tail, +In beastly sort, dragged through the shameful field. +Frown on, you heavens; effect your rage with speed. +Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smite at Troy! +I say at once: let your brief plagues be mercy, +And linger not our sure destructions on! + +AENEAS +My lord, you do discomfort all the host. + +TROILUS +You understand me not that tell me so. +I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death, +But dare all imminence that gods and men +Address their dangers in. Hector is gone. +Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba? +Let him that will a screech-owl aye be called +Go into Troy and say their Hector's dead. +There is a word will Priam turn to stone, +Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives, +Cold statues of the youth and, in a word, +Scare Troy out of itself. But march away. +Hector is dead. There is no more to say. +Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, +Thus proudly pitched upon our Phrygian plains, +Let Titan rise as early as he dare, +I'll through and through you! And, thou great-sized +coward, +No space of earth shall sunder our two hates. +I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, +That moldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. +Strike a free march to Troy! With comfort go. +Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. + +[Enter Pandarus.] + + +PANDARUS But hear you, hear you! + +TROILUS +Hence, broker, lackey! Ignomy and shame +Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name! +[All but Pandarus exit.] + +PANDARUS A goodly medicine for my aching bones! O +world, world, world! Thus is the poor agent despised. +O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are +you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should +our endeavor be so loved and the performance so +loathed? What verse for it? What instance for it? +Let me see: + Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing, + Till he hath lost his honey and his sting; + And being once subdued in armed tail, + Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. +Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted +cloths: +As many as be here of panders' hall, +Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall; +Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans, +Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. +Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade, +Some two months hence my will shall here be made. +It should be now, but that my fear is this: +Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss. +Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases, +And at that time bequeath you my diseases. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/twelfth-night_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/twelfth-night_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ddff43 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/twelfth-night_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4071 @@ +Twelfth Night +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/twelfth-night/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2 + +Characters in the Play +====================== +VIOLA, a lady of Messaline shipwrecked on the coast of Illyria (later disguised as CESARIO) +OLIVIA, an Illyrian countess +MARIA, her waiting-gentlewoman +SIR TOBY BELCH, Olivia's kinsman +SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, Sir Toby's companion +MALVOLIO, steward in Olivia's household +FOOL, Olivia's jester, named Feste +FABIAN, a gentleman in Olivia's household +ORSINO, duke (or count) of Illyria +Gentlemen serving Orsino: + VALENTINE + CURIO +SEBASTIAN, Viola's brother +ANTONIO, friend to Sebastian +CAPTAIN +PRIEST +Two OFFICERS +Lords, Sailors, Musicians, and other Attendants + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords, +with Musicians playing.] + + +ORSINO +If music be the food of love, play on. +Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, +The appetite may sicken and so die. +That strain again! It had a dying fall. +O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound +That breathes upon a bank of violets, +Stealing and giving odor. Enough; no more. +'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. +O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, +That, notwithstanding thy capacity +Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there, +Of what validity and pitch soe'er, +But falls into abatement and low price +Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy +That it alone is high fantastical. + +CURIO +Will you go hunt, my lord? + +ORSINO What, Curio? + +CURIO The hart. + +ORSINO +Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. +O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, +Methought she purged the air of pestilence. +That instant was I turned into a hart, +And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, +E'er since pursue me. + +[Enter Valentine.] + +How now, what news from her? + +VALENTINE +So please my lord, I might not be admitted, +But from her handmaid do return this answer: +The element itself, till seven years' heat, +Shall not behold her face at ample view, +But like a cloistress she will veiled walk, +And water once a day her chamber round +With eye-offending brine--all this to season +A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh +And lasting in her sad remembrance. + +ORSINO +O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame +To pay this debt of love but to a brother, +How will she love when the rich golden shaft +Hath killed the flock of all affections else +That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart, +These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled +Her sweet perfections with one self king! +Away before me to sweet beds of flowers! +Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.] + + +VIOLA What country, friends, is this? + +CAPTAIN This is Illyria, lady. + +VIOLA +And what should I do in Illyria? +My brother he is in Elysium. +Perchance he is not drowned.--What think you, +sailors? + +CAPTAIN +It is perchance that you yourself were saved. + +VIOLA +O, my poor brother! And so perchance may he be. + +CAPTAIN +True, madam. And to comfort you with chance, +Assure yourself, after our ship did split, +When you and those poor number saved with you +Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, +Most provident in peril, bind himself +(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) +To a strong mast that lived upon the sea, +Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, +I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves +So long as I could see. + +VIOLA, [giving him money] For saying so, there's gold. +Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, +Whereto thy speech serves for authority, +The like of him. Know'st thou this country? + +CAPTAIN +Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and born +Not three hours' travel from this very place. + +VIOLA Who governs here? + +CAPTAIN +A noble duke, in nature as in name. + +VIOLA What is his name? + +CAPTAIN Orsino. + +VIOLA +Orsino. I have heard my father name him. +He was a bachelor then. + +CAPTAIN +And so is now, or was so very late; +For but a month ago I went from hence, +And then 'twas fresh in murmur (as, you know, +What great ones do the less will prattle of) +That he did seek the love of fair Olivia. + +VIOLA What's she? + +CAPTAIN +A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count +That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her +In the protection of his son, her brother, +Who shortly also died, for whose dear love, +They say, she hath abjured the sight +And company of men. + +VIOLA O, that I served that lady, +And might not be delivered to the world +Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, +What my estate is. + +CAPTAIN That were hard to compass +Because she will admit no kind of suit, +No, not the Duke's. + +VIOLA +There is a fair behavior in thee, captain, +And though that nature with a beauteous wall +Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee +I will believe thou hast a mind that suits +With this thy fair and outward character. +I prithee--and I'll pay thee bounteously-- +Conceal me what I am, and be my aid +For such disguise as haply shall become +The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke. +Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him. +It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing +And speak to him in many sorts of music +That will allow me very worth his service. +What else may hap, to time I will commit. +Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. + +CAPTAIN +Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be. +When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. + +VIOLA I thank thee. Lead me on. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir Toby and Maria.] + + +TOBY What a plague means my niece to take the death +of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to +life. + +MARIA By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier +o' nights. Your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions +to your ill hours. + +TOBY Why, let her except before excepted! + +MARIA Ay, but you must confine yourself within the +modest limits of order. + +TOBY Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am. +These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so +be these boots too. An they be not, let them hang +themselves in their own straps! + +MARIA That quaffing and drinking will undo you. I +heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish +knight that you brought in one night here to be her +wooer. + +TOBY Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek? + +MARIA Ay, he. + +TOBY He's as tall a man as any 's in Illyria. + +MARIA What's that to th' purpose? + +TOBY Why, he has three thousand ducats a year! + +MARIA Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats. +He's a very fool and a prodigal. + +TOBY Fie that you'll say so! He plays o' th' viol-de-gamboys +and speaks three or four languages word +for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of +nature. + +MARIA He hath indeed, almost natural, for, besides +that he's a fool, he's a great quarreler, and, but that +he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath +in quarreling, 'tis thought among the prudent he +would quickly have the gift of a grave. + +TOBY By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors +that say so of him. Who are they? + +MARIA They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in +your company. + +TOBY With drinking healths to my niece. I'll drink to +her as long as there is a passage in my throat and +drink in Illyria. He's a coward and a coistrel that +will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o' th' +toe like a parish top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo, +for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface. + +[Enter Sir Andrew.] + + +ANDREW Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch? + +TOBY Sweet Sir Andrew! + +ANDREW, [to Maria] Bless you, fair shrew. + +MARIA And you too, sir. + +TOBY Accost, Sir Andrew, accost! + +ANDREW What's that? + +TOBY My niece's chambermaid. + +ANDREW Good Mistress Accost, I desire better +acquaintance. + +MARIA My name is Mary, sir. + +ANDREW Good Mistress Mary Accost-- + +TOBY You mistake, knight. "Accost" is front her, board +her, woo her, assail her. + +ANDREW By my troth, I would not undertake her in +this company. Is that the meaning of "accost"? + +MARIA Fare you well, gentlemen. [She begins to exit.] + +TOBY An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou +mightst never draw sword again. + +ANDREW An you part so, mistress, I would I might +never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you +have fools in hand? + +MARIA Sir, I have not you by th' hand. + +ANDREW Marry, but you shall have, and here's my +hand. [He offers his hand.] + +MARIA, [taking his hand] Now sir, thought is free. I +pray you, bring your hand to th' butt'ry bar and let +it drink. + +ANDREW Wherefore, sweetheart? What's your +metaphor? + +MARIA It's dry, sir. + +ANDREW Why, I think so. I am not such an ass but I +can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? + +MARIA A dry jest, sir. + +ANDREW Are you full of them? + +MARIA Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends. Marry, +now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Maria exits.] + +TOBY O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary! When did +I see thee so put down? + +ANDREW Never in your life, I think, unless you see +canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have +no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man +has. But I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that +does harm to my wit. + +TOBY No question. + +ANDREW An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride +home tomorrow, Sir Toby. + +TOBY Pourquoi, my dear knight? + +ANDREW What is "pourquoi"? Do, or not do? I would I +had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in +fencing, dancing, and bearbaiting. O, had I but +followed the arts! + +TOBY Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair. + +ANDREW Why, would that have mended my hair? + +TOBY Past question, for thou seest it will not curl by +nature. + +ANDREW But it becomes me well enough, does 't not? + +TOBY Excellent! It hangs like flax on a distaff, and I +hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs +and spin it off. + +ANDREW Faith, I'll home tomorrow, Sir Toby. Your +niece will not be seen, or if she be, it's four to one +she'll none of me. The Count himself here hard by +woos her. + +TOBY She'll none o' th' Count. She'll not match above +her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit. I have +heard her swear 't. Tut, there's life in 't, man. + +ANDREW I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' +strangest mind i' th' world. I delight in masques +and revels sometimes altogether. + +TOBY Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight? + +ANDREW As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, +under the degree of my betters, and yet I will not +compare with an old man. + +TOBY What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? + +ANDREW Faith, I can cut a caper. + +TOBY And I can cut the mutton to 't. + +ANDREW And I think I have the back-trick simply as +strong as any man in Illyria. + +TOBY Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have +these gifts a curtain before 'em? Are they like to +take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? Why dost +thou not go to church in a galliard and come home +in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig. I would +not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. +What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues +in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy +leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. + +ANDREW Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a +dun-colored stock. Shall we set about some +revels? + +TOBY What shall we do else? Were we not born under +Taurus? + +ANDREW Taurus? That's sides and heart. + +TOBY No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee +caper. [Sir Andrew dances.] Ha, higher! Ha, ha, +excellent! +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire as Cesario.] + + +VALENTINE If the Duke continue these favors towards +you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced. He +hath known you but three days, and already you +are no stranger. + +VIOLA You either fear his humor or my negligence, that +you call in question the continuance of his love. Is +he inconstant, sir, in his favors? + +VALENTINE No, believe me. + +VIOLA I thank you. + +[Enter Orsino, Curio, and Attendants.] + +Here comes the Count. + +ORSINO Who saw Cesario, ho? + +VIOLA On your attendance, my lord, here. + +ORSINO, [to Curio and Attendants] +Stand you awhile aloof.--Cesario, +Thou know'st no less but all. I have unclasped +To thee the book even of my secret soul. +Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her. +Be not denied access. Stand at her doors +And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow +Till thou have audience. + +VIOLA Sure, my noble lord, +If she be so abandoned to her sorrow +As it is spoke, she never will admit me. + +ORSINO +Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds +Rather than make unprofited return. + +VIOLA +Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then? + +ORSINO +O, then unfold the passion of my love. +Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith. +It shall become thee well to act my woes. +She will attend it better in thy youth +Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect. + +VIOLA +I think not so, my lord. + +ORSINO Dear lad, believe it; +For they shall yet belie thy happy years +That say thou art a man. Diana's lip +Is not more smooth and rubious, thy small pipe +Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound, +And all is semblative a womans part. +I know thy constellation is right apt +For this affair.--Some four or five attend him, +All, if you will, for I myself am best +When least in company.--Prosper well in this +And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, +To call his fortunes thine. + +VIOLA I'll do my best +To woo your lady. [Aside.] Yet a barful strife! +Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Maria and Feste, the Fool.] + + +MARIA Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I +will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter +in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy +absence. + +FOOL Let her hang me. He that is well hanged in this +world needs to fear no colors. + +MARIA Make that good. + +FOOL He shall see none to fear. + +MARIA A good Lenten answer. I can tell thee where +that saying was born, of "I fear no colors." + +FOOL Where, good Mistress Mary? + +MARIA In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in +your foolery. + +FOOL Well, God give them wisdom that have it, and +those that are Fools, let them use their talents. + +MARIA Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent. +Or to be turned away, is not that as good as a +hanging to you? + +FOOL Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage, +and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. + +MARIA You are resolute, then? + +FOOL Not so, neither, but I am resolved on two points. + +MARIA That if one break, the other will hold, or if both +break, your gaskins fall. + +FOOL Apt, in good faith, very apt. Well, go thy way. If Sir +Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a +piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. + +MARIA Peace, you rogue. No more o' that. Here comes +my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best. +[She exits.] + +[Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio and Attendants.] + + +FOOL, [aside] Wit, an 't be thy will, put me into good +fooling! Those wits that think they have thee do very +oft prove fools, and I that am sure I lack thee may +pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus? +"Better a witty Fool than a foolish wit."--God bless +thee, lady! + +OLIVIA Take the Fool away. + +FOOL Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady. + +OLIVIA Go to, you're a dry Fool. I'll no more of you. +Besides, you grow dishonest. + +FOOL Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel +will amend. For give the dry Fool drink, then is +the Fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend +himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he +cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that's +mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is +but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but +patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism +will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is +no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower. +The Lady bade take away the Fool. Therefore, I say +again, take her away. + +OLIVIA Sir, I bade them take away you. + +FOOL Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus +non facit monachum. That's as much to say as, I +wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give +me leave to prove you a fool. + +OLIVIA Can you do it? + +FOOL Dexteriously, good madonna. + +OLIVIA Make your proof. + +FOOL I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my +mouse of virtue, answer me. + +OLIVIA Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide +your proof. + +FOOL Good madonna, why mourn'st thou? + +OLIVIA Good Fool, for my brother's death. + +FOOL I think his soul is in hell, madonna. + +OLIVIA I know his soul is in heaven, Fool. + +FOOL The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your +brother's soul, being in heaven. Take away the fool, +gentlemen. + +OLIVIA What think you of this Fool, Malvolio? Doth he +not mend? + +MALVOLIO Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death +shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth +ever make the better Fool. + +FOOL God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the +better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn +that I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for +twopence that you are no fool. + +OLIVIA How say you to that, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO I marvel your Ladyship takes delight in +such a barren rascal. I saw him put down the other +day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain +than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard +already. Unless you laugh and minister occasion to +him, he is gagged. I protest I take these wise men +that crow so at these set kind of Fools no better than +the Fools' zanies. + +OLIVIA O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste +with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless, +and of free disposition is to take those things +for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There +is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do +nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet +man, though he do nothing but reprove. + +FOOL Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou +speak'st well of Fools! + +[Enter Maria.] + + +MARIA Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman +much desires to speak with you. + +OLIVIA From the Count Orsino, is it? + +MARIA I know not, madam. 'Tis a fair young man, and +well attended. + +OLIVIA Who of my people hold him in delay? + +MARIA Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. + +OLIVIA Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks nothing +but madman. Fie on him! [Maria exits.] Go you, +Malvolio. If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick, +or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. [(Malvolio +exits.)] Now you see, sir, how your fooling +grows old, and people dislike it. + +FOOL Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest +son should be a Fool, whose skull Jove cram with +brains, for--here he comes--one of thy kin has a +most weak pia mater. + +[Enter Sir Toby.] + + +OLIVIA By mine honor, half drunk!--What is he at the +gate, cousin? + +TOBY A gentleman. + +OLIVIA A gentleman? What gentleman? + +TOBY 'Tis a gentleman here--a plague o' these pickle +herring!--How now, sot? + +FOOL Good Sir Toby. + +OLIVIA Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by +this lethargy? + +TOBY Lechery? I defy lechery. There's one at the gate. + +OLIVIA Ay, marry, what is he? + +TOBY Let him be the devil an he will, I care not. Give +me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [He exits.] + +OLIVIA What's a drunken man like, Fool? + +FOOL Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One +draught above heat makes him a fool, the second +mads him, and a third drowns him. + +OLIVIA Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o' +my coz, for he's in the third degree of drink: he's +drowned. Go look after him. + +FOOL He is but mad yet, madonna, and the Fool shall +look to the madman. [He exits.] + +[Enter Malvolio.] + + +MALVOLIO Madam, yond young fellow swears he will +speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes +on him to understand so much, and therefore +comes to speak with you. I told him you were +asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that +too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is +to be said to him, lady? He's fortified against any +denial. + +OLIVIA Tell him he shall not speak with me. + +MALVOLIO Has been told so, and he says he'll stand at +your door like a sheriff's post and be the supporter +to a bench, but he'll speak with you. + +OLIVIA What kind o' man is he? + +MALVOLIO Why, of mankind. + +OLIVIA What manner of man? + +MALVOLIO Of very ill manner. He'll speak with you, +will you or no. + +OLIVIA Of what personage and years is he? + +MALVOLIO Not yet old enough for a man, nor young +enough for a boy--as a squash is before 'tis a +peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple. 'Tis +with him in standing water, between boy and man. +He is very well-favored, and he speaks very shrewishly. +One would think his mother's milk were +scarce out of him. + +OLIVIA +Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman. + +MALVOLIO Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [He exits.] + +[Enter Maria.] + + +OLIVIA +Give me my veil. Come, throw it o'er my face. +[Olivia veils.] +We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. + +[Enter Viola.] + + +VIOLA The honorable lady of the house, which is she? + +OLIVIA Speak to me. I shall answer for her. Your will? + +VIOLA Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable +beauty--I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the +house, for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast +away my speech, for, besides that it is excellently +well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good +beauties, let me sustain no scorn. I am very comptible +even to the least sinister usage. + +OLIVIA Whence came you, sir? + +VIOLA I can say little more than I have studied, and +that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, +give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the +house, that I may proceed in my speech. + +OLIVIA Are you a comedian? + +VIOLA No, my profound heart. And yet by the very +fangs of malice I swear I am not that I play. Are +you the lady of the house? + +OLIVIA If I do not usurp myself, I am. + +VIOLA Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp +yourself, for what is yours to bestow is not yours to +reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on +with my speech in your praise and then show you +the heart of my message. + +OLIVIA Come to what is important in 't. I forgive you +the praise. + +VIOLA Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis +poetical. + +OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you, +keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and +allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than +to hear you. If you be not mad, begone; if you have +reason, be brief. 'Tis not that time of moon with me +to make one in so skipping a dialogue. + +MARIA Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way. + +VIOLA No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little +longer.--Some mollification for your giant, sweet +lady. + +OLIVIA Tell me your mind. + +VIOLA I am a messenger. + +OLIVIA Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver +when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your +office. + +VIOLA It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture +of war, no taxation of homage. I hold the olive in +my hand. My words are as full of peace as matter. + +OLIVIA Yet you began rudely. What are you? What +would you? + +VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I +learned from my entertainment. What I am and +what I would are as secret as maidenhead: to your +ears, divinity; to any other's, profanation. + +OLIVIA Give us the place alone. We will hear this +divinity. [Maria and Attendants exit.] Now, sir, what +is your text? + +VIOLA Most sweet lady-- + +OLIVIA A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said +of it. Where lies your text? + +VIOLA In Orsino's bosom. + +OLIVIA In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? + +VIOLA To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. + +OLIVIA O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more +to say? + +VIOLA Good madam, let me see your face. + +OLIVIA Have you any commission from your lord to +negotiate with my face? You are now out of your +text. But we will draw the curtain and show you the +picture. [She removes her veil.] Look you, sir, such a +one I was this present. Is 't not well done? + +VIOLA Excellently done, if God did all. + +OLIVIA 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and +weather. + +VIOLA +'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white +Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. +Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive +If you will lead these graces to the grave +And leave the world no copy. + +OLIVIA O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted! I will give +out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be +inventoried and every particle and utensil labeled +to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, +two gray eyes with lids to them; item, one neck, one +chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise +me? + +VIOLA +I see you what you are. You are too proud. +But if you were the devil you are fair. +My lord and master loves you. O, such love +Could be but recompensed though you were +crowned +The nonpareil of beauty. + +OLIVIA How does he love me? + +VIOLA With adorations, fertile tears, +With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. + +OLIVIA +Your lord does know my mind. I cannot love him. +Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, +Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; +In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant, +And in dimension and the shape of nature +A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him. +He might have took his answer long ago. + +VIOLA +If I did love you in my master's flame, +With such a suff'ring, such a deadly life, +In your denial I would find no sense. +I would not understand it. + +OLIVIA Why, what would you? + +VIOLA +Make me a willow cabin at your gate +And call upon my soul within the house, +Write loyal cantons of contemned love +And sing them loud even in the dead of night, +Hallow your name to the reverberate hills +And make the babbling gossip of the air +Cry out "Olivia!" O, you should not rest +Between the elements of air and earth +But you should pity me. + +OLIVIA You might do much. +What is your parentage? + +VIOLA +Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. +I am a gentleman. + +OLIVIA Get you to your lord. +I cannot love him. Let him send no more-- +Unless perchance you come to me again +To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well. +I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me. +[She offers money.] + +VIOLA +I am no fee'd post, lady. Keep your purse. +My master, not myself, lacks recompense. +Love make his heart of flint that you shall love, +And let your fervor, like my master's, be +Placed in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty. [She exits.] + +OLIVIA "What is your parentage?" +"Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. +I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art. +Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit +Do give thee fivefold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, +soft! +Unless the master were the man. How now? +Even so quickly may one catch the plague? +Methinks I feel this youth's perfections +With an invisible and subtle stealth +To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.-- +What ho, Malvolio! + +[Enter Malvolio.] + + +MALVOLIO Here, madam, at your service. + +OLIVIA +Run after that same peevish messenger, +The County's man. He left this ring behind him, +Would I or not. Tell him I'll none of it. +[She hands him a ring.] +Desire him not to flatter with his lord, +Nor hold him up with hopes. I am not for him. +If that the youth will come this way tomorrow, +I'll give him reasons for 't. Hie thee, Malvolio. + +MALVOLIO Madam, I will. [He exits.] + +OLIVIA +I do I know not what, and fear to find +Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. +Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe. +What is decreed must be, and be this so. +[She exits.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Antonio and Sebastian.] + + +ANTONIO Will you stay no longer? Nor will you not that +I go with you? + +SEBASTIAN By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly +over me. The malignancy of my fate might perhaps +distemper yours. Therefore I shall crave of you your +leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad +recompense for your love to lay any of them on you. + +ANTONIO Let me yet know of you whither you are +bound. + +SEBASTIAN No, sooth, sir. My determinate voyage is +mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent +a touch of modesty that you will not extort +from me what I am willing to keep in. Therefore it +charges me in manners the rather to express myself. +You must know of me, then, Antonio, my name +is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. My father was +that Sebastian of Messaline whom I know you have +heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister, +both born in an hour. If the heavens had been +pleased, would we had so ended! But you, sir, +altered that, for some hour before you took me +from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned. + +ANTONIO Alas the day! + +SEBASTIAN A lady, sir, though it was said she much +resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful. +But though I could not with such estimable +wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly +publish her: she bore a mind that envy could not but +call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water, +though I seem to drown her remembrance again +with more. + +ANTONIO Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. + +SEBASTIAN O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. + +ANTONIO If you will not murder me for my love, let me +be your servant. + +SEBASTIAN If you will not undo what you have done-- +that is, kill him whom you have recovered--desire +it not. Fare you well at once. My bosom is full of +kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my +mother that, upon the least occasion more, mine +eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count +Orsino's court. Farewell. [He exits.] + +ANTONIO +The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! +I have many enemies in Orsino's court, +Else would I very shortly see thee there. +But come what may, I do adore thee so +That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. +[He exits.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors.] + + +MALVOLIO Were not you even now with the Countess +Olivia? + +VIOLA Even now, sir. On a moderate pace I have since +arrived but hither. + +MALVOLIO She returns this ring to you, sir. You might +have saved me my pains to have taken it away +yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put +your lord into a desperate assurance she will none +of him. And one thing more, that you be never so +hardy to come again in his affairs unless it be to +report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. + +VIOLA She took the ring of me. I'll none of it. + +MALVOLIO Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and +her will is it should be so returned. [He throws +down the ring.] If it be worth stooping for, there it +lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. +[He exits.] + +VIOLA +I left no ring with her. What means this lady? +[She picks up the ring.] +Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her! +She made good view of me, indeed so much +That methought her eyes had lost her tongue, +For she did speak in starts distractedly. +She loves me, sure! The cunning of her passion +Invites me in this churlish messenger. +None of my lord's ring? Why, he sent her none! +I am the man. If it be so, as 'tis, +Poor lady, she were better love a dream. +Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness +Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. +How easy is it for the proper false +In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! +Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, +For such as we are made of, such we be. +How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly, +And I, poor monster, fond as much on him, +And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. +What will become of this? As I am man, +My state is desperate for my master's love. +As I am woman (now, alas the day!), +What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe! +O Time, thou must untangle this, not I. +It is too hard a knot for me t' untie. +[She exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.] + + +TOBY Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after +midnight is to be up betimes, and "diluculo surgere," +thou know'st-- + +ANDREW Nay, by my troth, I know not. But I know to +be up late is to be up late. + +TOBY A false conclusion. I hate it as an unfilled can. To +be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early, +so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed +betimes. Does not our lives consist of the four +elements? + +ANDREW Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists +of eating and drinking. + +TOBY Thou 'rt a scholar. Let us therefore eat and +drink. Marian, I say, a stoup of wine! + +[Enter Feste, the Fool.] + + +ANDREW Here comes the Fool, i' faith. + +FOOL How now, my hearts? Did you never see the +picture of "We Three"? + +TOBY Welcome, ass! Now let's have a catch. + +ANDREW By my troth, the Fool has an excellent breast. +I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, +and so sweet a breath to sing, as the Fool has.--In +sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night +when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus of the Vapians +passing the equinoctial of Queubus. 'Twas very +good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman. +Hadst it? + +FOOL I did impeticos thy gratillity, for Malvolio's nose +is no whipstock, my lady has a white hand, and the +Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. + +ANDREW Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling when +all is done. Now, a song! + +TOBY, [giving money to the Fool] Come on, there is +sixpence for you. Let's have a song. + +ANDREW, [giving money to the Fool] There's a testril of +me, too. If one knight give a-- + +FOOL Would you have a love song or a song of good +life? + +TOBY A love song, a love song. + +ANDREW Ay, ay, I care not for good life. + +FOOL [sings] + O mistress mine, where are you roaming? + O, stay and hear! Your truelove's coming, + That can sing both high and low. + Trip no further, pretty sweeting. + Journeys end in lovers meeting, + Every wise man's son doth know. + +ANDREW Excellent good, i' faith! + +TOBY Good, good. + +FOOL [sings] + What is love? 'Tis not hereafter. + Present mirth hath present laughter. + What's to come is still unsure. + In delay there lies no plenty, + Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty. + Youth's a stuff will not endure. + +ANDREW A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. + +TOBY A contagious breath. + +ANDREW Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. + +TOBY To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. +But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall +we rouse the night owl in a catch that will draw +three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that? + +ANDREW An you love me, let's do 't. I am dog at a +catch. + +FOOL By 'r Lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. + +ANDREW Most certain. Let our catch be "Thou +Knave." + +FOOL "Hold thy peace, thou knave," knight? I shall be +constrained in 't to call thee "knave," knight. + +ANDREW 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one +to call me "knave." Begin, Fool. It begins "Hold +thy peace." + +FOOL I shall never begin if I hold my peace. + +ANDREW Good, i' faith. Come, begin. [Catch sung.] + +[Enter Maria.] + + +MARIA What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my +lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and +bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. + +TOBY My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's +a Peg-a-Ramsey, and [Sings.] Three merry men be +we. Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her +blood? Tillyvally! "Lady"! [Sings.] There dwelt a man +in Babylon, lady, lady. + +FOOL Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. + +ANDREW Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, +and so do I, too. He does it with a better grace, but +I do it more natural. + +TOBY [sings] O' the twelfth day of December-- + +MARIA For the love o' God, peace! + +[Enter Malvolio.] + + +MALVOLIO My masters, are you mad? Or what are you? +Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty but to +gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you +make an ale-house of my lady's house, that you +squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation +or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of +place, persons, nor time in you? + +TOBY We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up! + +MALVOLIO Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady +bade me tell you that, though she harbors you as her +kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If +you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, +you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would +please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to +bid you farewell. + +TOBY [sings] +Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone. + +MARIA Nay, good Sir Toby. + +FOOL [sings] +His eyes do show his days are almost done. + +MALVOLIO Is 't even so? + +TOBY [sings] +But I will never die. + +FOOL [sings] +Sir Toby, there you lie. + +MALVOLIO This is much credit to you. + +TOBY [sings] +Shall I bid him go? + +FOOL [sings] +What an if you do? + +TOBY [sings] +Shall I bid him go, and spare not? + +FOOL [sings] +O no, no, no, no, you dare not. + +TOBY Out o' tune, sir? You lie. Art any more than a +steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, +there shall be no more cakes and ale? + +FOOL Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' th' +mouth, too. + +TOBY Thou 'rt i' th' right.--Go, sir, rub your chain +with crumbs.--A stoup of wine, Maria! + +MALVOLIO Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favor +at anything more than contempt, you would not give +means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by +this hand. [He exits.] + +MARIA Go shake your ears! + +ANDREW 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a +man's a-hungry, to challenge him the field and +then to break promise with him and make a fool of +him. + +TOBY Do 't, knight. I'll write thee a challenge. Or I'll +deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. + +MARIA Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight. Since the +youth of the Count's was today with my lady, she is +much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me +alone with him. If I do not gull him into a nayword +and make him a common recreation, do not think I +have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I +can do it. + +TOBY Possess us, possess us, tell us something of him. + +MARIA Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. + +ANDREW O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog! + +TOBY What, for being a puritan? Thy exquisite reason, +dear knight? + +ANDREW I have no exquisite reason for 't, but I have +reason good enough. + +MARIA The devil a puritan that he is, or anything +constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass +that cons state without book and utters it by great +swaths; the best persuaded of himself, so crammed, +as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his grounds +of faith that all that look on him love him. And on +that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause +to work. + +TOBY What wilt thou do? + +MARIA I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of +love, wherein by the color of his beard, the shape of +his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his +eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself +most feelingly personated. I can write very like my +lady your niece; on a forgotten matter, we can +hardly make distinction of our hands. + +TOBY Excellent! I smell a device. + +ANDREW I have 't in my nose, too. + +TOBY He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, +that they come from my niece, and that she's in +love with him. + +MARIA My purpose is indeed a horse of that color. + +ANDREW And your horse now would make him an ass. + +MARIA Ass, I doubt not. + +ANDREW O, 'twill be admirable! + +MARIA Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic +will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the +Fool make a third, where he shall find the letter. +Observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, +and dream on the event. Farewell. + +TOBY Good night, Penthesilea. [She exits.] + +ANDREW Before me, she's a good wench. + +TOBY She's a beagle true bred, and one that adores +me. What o' that? + +ANDREW I was adored once, too. + +TOBY Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for +more money. + +ANDREW If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way +out. + +TOBY Send for money, knight. If thou hast her not i' +th' end, call me "Cut." + +ANDREW If I do not, never trust me, take it how you +will. + +TOBY Come, come, I'll go burn some sack. 'Tis too +late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and others.] + + +ORSINO +Give me some music. [Music plays.] Now, good +morrow, friends.-- +Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, +That old and antique song we heard last night. +Methought it did relieve my passion much, +More than light airs and recollected terms +Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times. +Come, but one verse. + +CURIO He is not here, so please your Lordship, that +should sing it. + +ORSINO Who was it? + +CURIO Feste the jester, my lord, a Fool that the Lady +Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about +the house. + +ORSINO +Seek him out [Curio exits,] and play the tune the +while. [Music plays.] +[To Viola.] Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love, +In the sweet pangs of it remember me, +For such as I am, all true lovers are, +Unstaid and skittish in all motions else +Save in the constant image of the creature +That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune? + +VIOLA +It gives a very echo to the seat +Where love is throned. + +ORSINO Thou dost speak masterly. +My life upon 't, young though thou art, thine eye +Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves. +Hath it not, boy? + +VIOLA A little, by your favor. + +ORSINO +What kind of woman is 't? + +VIOLA Of your complexion. + +ORSINO +She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith? + +VIOLA About your years, my lord. + +ORSINO +Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take +An elder than herself. So wears she to him; +So sways she level in her husband's heart. +For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, +Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, +More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, +Than women's are. + +VIOLA I think it well, my lord. + +ORSINO +Then let thy love be younger than thyself, +Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. +For women are as roses, whose fair flower, +Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour. + +VIOLA +And so they are. Alas, that they are so, +To die even when they to perfection grow! + +[Enter Curio and Feste, the Fool.] + + +ORSINO +O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.-- +Mark it, Cesario. It is old and plain; +The spinsters and the knitters in the sun +And the free maids that weave their thread with +bones +Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth, +And dallies with the innocence of love +Like the old age. + +FOOL Are you ready, sir? + +ORSINO Ay, prithee, sing. [Music.] +The Song. + +FOOL + Come away, come away, death, + And in sad cypress let me be laid. + Fly away, fly away, breath, + I am slain by a fair cruel maid. + My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, + O, prepare it! + My part of death, no one so true + Did share it. + + Not a flower, not a flower sweet + On my black coffin let there be strown; + Not a friend, not a friend greet + My poor corpse where my bones shall be thrown. + A thousand thousand sighs to save, + Lay me, O, where + Sad true lover never find my grave + To weep there. + +ORSINO, [giving money] There's for thy pains. + +FOOL No pains, sir. I take pleasure in singing, sir. + +ORSINO I'll pay thy pleasure, then. + +FOOL Truly sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or +another. + +ORSINO Give me now leave to leave thee. + +FOOL Now the melancholy god protect thee and the +tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy +mind is a very opal. I would have men of such +constancy put to sea, that their business might be +everything and their intent everywhere, for that's it +that always makes a good voyage of nothing. +Farewell. [He exits.] + +ORSINO +Let all the rest give place. +[All but Orsino and Viola exit.] +Once more, Cesario, +Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty. +Tell her my love, more noble than the world, +Prizes not quantity of dirty lands. +The parts that Fortune hath bestowed upon her, +Tell her, I hold as giddily as Fortune. +But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems +That nature pranks her in attracts my soul. + +VIOLA But if she cannot love you, sir-- + +ORSINO +I cannot be so answered. + +VIOLA Sooth, but you must. +Say that some lady, as perhaps there is, +Hath for your love as great a pang of heart +As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her; +You tell her so. Must she not then be answered? + +ORSINO There is no woman's sides +Can bide the beating of so strong a passion +As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart +So big, to hold so much; they lack retention. +Alas, their love may be called appetite, +No motion of the liver but the palate, +That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt; +But mine is all as hungry as the sea, +And can digest as much. Make no compare +Between that love a woman can bear me +And that I owe Olivia. + +VIOLA Ay, but I know-- + +ORSINO What dost thou know? + +VIOLA +Too well what love women to men may owe. +In faith, they are as true of heart as we. +My father had a daughter loved a man +As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, +I should your Lordship. + +ORSINO And what's her history? + +VIOLA +A blank, my lord. She never told her love, +But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, +Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, +And with a green and yellow melancholy +She sat like Patience on a monument, +Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? +We men may say more, swear more, but indeed +Our shows are more than will; for still we prove +Much in our vows but little in our love. + +ORSINO +But died thy sister of her love, my boy? + +VIOLA +I am all the daughters of my father's house, +And all the brothers, too--and yet I know not. +Sir, shall I to this lady? + +ORSINO Ay, that's the theme. +To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say +My love can give no place, bide no denay. +[He hands her a jewel and they exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.] + + +TOBY Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. + +FABIAN Nay, I'll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport, +let me be boiled to death with melancholy. + +TOBY Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly +rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame? + +FABIAN I would exult, man. You know he brought me +out o' favor with my lady about a bearbaiting here. + +TOBY To anger him, we'll have the bear again, and we +will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir +Andrew? + +ANDREW An we do not, it is pity of our lives. + +[Enter Maria.] + + +TOBY Here comes the little villain.--How now, my +metal of India? + +MARIA Get you all three into the boxtree. Malvolio's +coming down this walk. He has been yonder i' the +sun practicing behavior to his own shadow this half +hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery, for I +know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of +him. Close, in the name of jesting! [They hide.] Lie +thou there [putting down the letter,] for here comes +the trout that must be caught with tickling. +[She exits.] + +[Enter Malvolio.] + + +MALVOLIO 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once +told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself +come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be +one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a +more exalted respect than anyone else that follows +her. What should I think on 't? + +TOBY, [aside] Here's an overweening rogue. + +FABIAN, [aside] O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare +turkeycock of him. How he jets under his advanced +plumes! + +ANDREW, [aside] 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue! + +TOBY, [aside] Peace, I say. + +MALVOLIO To be Count Malvolio. + +TOBY, [aside] Ah, rogue! + +ANDREW, [aside] Pistol him, pistol him! + +TOBY, [aside] Peace, peace! + +MALVOLIO There is example for 't. The lady of the +Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. + +ANDREW, [aside] Fie on him, Jezebel! + +FABIAN, [aside] O, peace, now he's deeply in. Look how +imagination blows him. + +MALVOLIO Having been three months married to her, +sitting in my state-- + +TOBY, [aside] O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! + +MALVOLIO Calling my officers about me, in my +branched velvet gown, having come from a daybed +where I have left Olivia sleeping-- + +TOBY, [aside] Fire and brimstone! + +FABIAN, [aside] O, peace, peace! + +MALVOLIO And then to have the humor of state; and +after a demure travel of regard, telling them I +know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to +ask for my kinsman Toby-- + +TOBY, [aside] Bolts and shackles! + +FABIAN, [aside] O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now. + +MALVOLIO Seven of my people, with an obedient start, +make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance +wind up my watch, or play with my--some +rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me-- + +TOBY, [aside] Shall this fellow live? + +FABIAN, [aside] Though our silence be drawn from us +with cars, yet peace! + +MALVOLIO I extend my hand to him thus, quenching +my familiar smile with an austere regard of +control-- + +TOBY, [aside] And does not Toby take you a blow o' the +lips then? + +MALVOLIO Saying, "Cousin Toby, my fortunes, having +cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of +speech--" + +TOBY, [aside] What, what? + +MALVOLIO "You must amend your drunkenness." + +TOBY, [aside] Out, scab! + +FABIAN, [aside] Nay, patience, or we break the sinews +of our plot! + +MALVOLIO "Besides, you waste the treasure of your +time with a foolish knight--" + +ANDREW, [aside] That's me, I warrant you. + +MALVOLIO "One Sir Andrew." + +ANDREW, [aside] I knew 'twas I, for many do call me +fool. + +MALVOLIO, [seeing the letter] What employment have +we here? + +FABIAN, [aside] Now is the woodcock near the gin. + +TOBY, [aside] O, peace, and the spirit of humors intimate +reading aloud to him. + +MALVOLIO, [taking up the letter] By my life, this is my +lady's hand! These be her very c's, her u's, and her +t's, and thus she makes her great P's. It is in +contempt of question her hand. + +ANDREW, [aside] Her c's, her u's, and her t's. Why that? + +MALVOLIO [reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my +good wishes--Her very phrases! By your leave, wax. +Soft. And the impressure her Lucrece, with which +she uses to seal--'tis my lady! [He opens the letter.] +To whom should this be? + +FABIAN, [aside] This wins him, liver and all. + +MALVOLIO [reads] + Jove knows I love, + But who? + Lips, do not move; + No man must know. +"No man must know." What follows? The numbers +altered. "No man must know." If this should be +thee, Malvolio! + +TOBY, [aside] Marry, hang thee, brock! + +MALVOLIO [reads] + I may command where I adore, + But silence, like a Lucrece knife, + With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore; + M.O.A.I. doth sway my life. + +FABIAN, [aside] A fustian riddle! + +TOBY, [aside] Excellent wench, say I. + +MALVOLIO "M.O.A.I. doth sway my life." Nay, but first +let me see, let me see, let me see. + +FABIAN, [aside] What dish o' poison has she dressed +him! + +TOBY, [aside] And with what wing the staniel checks +at it! + +MALVOLIO "I may command where I adore." Why, she +may command me; I serve her; she is my lady. Why, +this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no +obstruction in this. And the end--what should that +alphabetical position portend? If I could make that +resemble something in me! Softly! "M.O.A.I."-- + +TOBY, [aside] O, ay, make up that.--He is now at a cold +scent. + +FABIAN, [aside] Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, +though it be as rank as a fox. + +MALVOLIO "M"--Malvolio. "M"--why, that begins +my name! + +FABIAN, [aside] Did not I say he would work it out? The +cur is excellent at faults. + +MALVOLIO "M." But then there is no consonancy in +the sequel that suffers under probation. "A" should +follow, but "O" does. + +FABIAN, [aside] And "O" shall end, I hope. + +TOBY, [aside] Ay, or I'll cudgel him and make him cry +"O." + +MALVOLIO And then "I" comes behind. + +FABIAN, [aside] Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you +might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes +before you. + +MALVOLIO "M.O.A.I." This simulation is not as the +former, and yet to crush this a little, it would bow +to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. +Soft, here follows prose. +[He reads.] If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my +stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness. +Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and +some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy fates open +their hands. Let thy blood and spirit embrace them. +And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast +thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with +a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang +arguments of state. Put thyself into the trick of singularity. +She thus advises thee that sighs for thee. +Remember who commended thy yellow stockings and +wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remember. +Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so. If +not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of +servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. +Farewell. She that would alter services with thee, +The Fortunate-Unhappy. +Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is +open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I +will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, +I will be point-devise the very man. I do not +now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for +every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. +She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she +did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this +she manifests herself to my love and, with a kind of +injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I +thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, +in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with +the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be +praised! Here is yet a postscript. +[He reads.] Thou canst not choose but know who I +am. If thou entertain'st my love, let it appear in thy +smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore in my +presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee. +Jove, I thank thee! I will smile. I will do everything +that thou wilt have me. [He exits.] + +FABIAN I will not give my part of this sport for a +pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. + +TOBY I could marry this wench for this device. + +ANDREW So could I too. + +TOBY And ask no other dowry with her but such +another jest. + +ANDREW Nor I neither. + +[Enter Maria.] + + +FABIAN Here comes my noble gull-catcher. + +TOBY Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck? + +ANDREW Or o' mine either? + +TOBY Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip and become +thy bondslave? + +ANDREW I' faith, or I either? + +TOBY Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that +when the image of it leaves him he must run mad. + +MARIA Nay, but say true, does it work upon him? + +TOBY Like aqua vitae with a midwife. + +MARIA If you will then see the fruits of the sport, +mark his first approach before my lady. He will +come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color +she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; +and he will smile upon her, which will now +be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted +to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot +but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will +see it, follow me. + +TOBY To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil +of wit! + +ANDREW I'll make one, too. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Viola and Feste, the Fool, playing a tabor.] + + +VIOLA Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live +by thy tabor? + +FOOL No, sir, I live by the church. + +VIOLA Art thou a churchman? + +FOOL No such matter, sir. I do live by the church, for I +do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the +church. + +VIOLA So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar if a +beggar dwell near him, or the church stands by thy +tabor if thy tabor stand by the church. + +FOOL You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is +but a chev'ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the +wrong side may be turned outward! + +VIOLA Nay, that's certain. They that dally nicely with +words may quickly make them wanton. + +FOOL I would therefore my sister had had no name, +sir. + +VIOLA Why, man? + +FOOL Why, sir, her name's a word, and to dally with +that word might make my sister wanton. But, +indeed, words are very rascals since bonds disgraced +them. + +VIOLA Thy reason, man? + +FOOL Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, +and words are grown so false I am loath to prove +reason with them. + +VIOLA I warrant thou art a merry fellow and car'st for +nothing. + +FOOL Not so, sir. I do care for something. But in my +conscience, sir, I do not care for you. If that be to +care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you +invisible. + +VIOLA Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool? + +FOOL No, indeed, sir. The Lady Olivia has no folly. She +will keep no Fool, sir, till she be married, and Fools +are as like husbands as pilchers are to herrings: the +husband's the bigger. I am indeed not her Fool but +her corrupter of words. + +VIOLA I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. + +FOOL Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the +sun; it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but +the Fool should be as oft with your master as with +my mistress. I think I saw your Wisdom there. + +VIOLA Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with +thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. [Giving a +coin.] + +FOOL Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send +thee a beard! + +VIOLA By my troth I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for +one, [aside] though I would not have it grow on my +chin.--Is thy lady within? + +FOOL Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? + +VIOLA Yes, being kept together and put to use. + +FOOL I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to +bring a Cressida to this Troilus. + +VIOLA I understand you, sir. 'Tis well begged. [Giving +another coin.] + +FOOL The matter I hope is not great, sir, begging but a +beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. +I will conster to them whence you come. Who you +are and what you would are out of my welkin--I +might say "element," but the word is overworn. +[He exits.] + +VIOLA +This fellow is wise enough to play the Fool, +And to do that well craves a kind of wit. +He must observe their mood on whom he jests, +The quality of persons, and the time, +And, like the haggard, check at every feather +That comes before his eye. This is a practice +As full of labor as a wise man's art: +For folly that he wisely shows is fit; +But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit. + +[Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.] + + +TOBY Save you, gentleman. + +VIOLA And you, sir. + +ANDREW Dieu vous garde, monsieur. + +VIOLA Et vous aussi. Votre serviteur! + +ANDREW I hope, sir, you are, and I am yours. + +TOBY Will you encounter the house? My niece is +desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. + +VIOLA I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the +list of my voyage. + +TOBY Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion. + +VIOLA My legs do better understand me, sir, than I +understand what you mean by bidding me taste my +legs. + +TOBY I mean, to go, sir, to enter. + +VIOLA I will answer you with gait and entrance--but +we are prevented. + +[Enter Olivia, and Maria, her Gentlewoman.] + +Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain +odors on you! + +ANDREW, [aside] That youth's a rare courtier. "Rain +odors," well. + +VIOLA My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own +most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. + +ANDREW, [aside] "Odors," "pregnant," and "vouchsafed." +I'll get 'em all three all ready. + +OLIVIA Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to +my hearing. [Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria exit.] +Give me your hand, sir. + +VIOLA +My duty, madam, and most humble service. + +OLIVIA What is your name? + +VIOLA +Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. + +OLIVIA +My servant, sir? 'Twas never merry world +Since lowly feigning was called compliment. +You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. + +VIOLA +And he is yours, and his must needs be yours. +Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. + +OLIVIA +For him, I think not on him. For his thoughts, +Would they were blanks rather than filled with me. + +VIOLA +Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts +On his behalf. + +OLIVIA O, by your leave, I pray you. +I bade you never speak again of him. +But would you undertake another suit, +I had rather hear you to solicit that +Than music from the spheres. + +VIOLA Dear lady-- + +OLIVIA +Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, +After the last enchantment you did here, +A ring in chase of you. So did I abuse +Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you. +Under your hard construction must I sit, +To force that on you in a shameful cunning +Which you knew none of yours. What might you +think? +Have you not set mine honor at the stake +And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts +That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your +receiving +Enough is shown. A cypress, not a bosom, +Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak. + +VIOLA +I pity you. + +OLIVIA That's a degree to love. + +VIOLA +No, not a grize, for 'tis a vulgar proof +That very oft we pity enemies. + +OLIVIA +Why then methinks 'tis time to smile again. +O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! +If one should be a prey, how much the better +To fall before the lion than the wolf. [Clock strikes.] +The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. +Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you. +And yet when wit and youth is come to harvest, +Your wife is like to reap a proper man. +There lies your way, due west. + +VIOLA Then westward ho! +Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship. +You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? + +OLIVIA +Stay. I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. + +VIOLA +That you do think you are not what you are. + +OLIVIA +If I think so, I think the same of you. + +VIOLA +Then think you right. I am not what I am. + +OLIVIA +I would you were as I would have you be. + +VIOLA +Would it be better, madam, than I am? +I wish it might, for now I am your fool. + +OLIVIA, [aside] +O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful +In the contempt and anger of his lip! +A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon +Than love that would seem hid. Love's night is +noon.-- +Cesario, by the roses of the spring, +By maidhood, honor, truth, and everything, +I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, +Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. +Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, +For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause; +But rather reason thus with reason fetter: +Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. + +VIOLA +By innocence I swear, and by my youth, +I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, +And that no woman has, nor never none +Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. +And so adieu, good madam. Nevermore +Will I my master's tears to you deplore. + +OLIVIA +Yet come again, for thou perhaps mayst move +That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.] + + +ANDREW No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. + +TOBY Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. + +FABIAN You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. + +ANDREW Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the +Count's servingman than ever she bestowed upon +me. I saw 't i' th' orchard. + +TOBY Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me +that. + +ANDREW As plain as I see you now. + +FABIAN This was a great argument of love in her toward +you. + +ANDREW 'Slight, will you make an ass o' me? + +FABIAN I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of +judgment and reason. + +TOBY And they have been grand-jurymen since before +Noah was a sailor. + +FABIAN She did show favor to the youth in your sight +only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse +valor, to put fire in your heart and brimstone in +your liver. You should then have accosted her, and +with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, +you should have banged the youth into dumbness. +This was looked for at your hand, and this was +balked. The double gilt of this opportunity you let +time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north +of my lady's opinion, where you will hang like an +icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem +it by some laudable attempt either of valor or +policy. + +ANDREW An 't be any way, it must be with valor, for +policy I hate. I had as lief be a Brownist as a +politician. + +TOBY Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis +of valor. Challenge me the Count's youth to fight +with him. Hurt him in eleven places. My niece shall +take note of it, and assure thyself there is no +love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's +commendation with woman than report of valor. + +FABIAN There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. + +ANDREW Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? + +TOBY Go, write it in a martial hand. Be curst and +brief. It is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent +and full of invention. Taunt him with the license of +ink. If thou "thou"-est him some thrice, it shall not +be amiss, and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of +paper, although the sheet were big enough for the +bed of Ware in England, set 'em down. Go, about it. +Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou +write with a goose-pen, no matter. About it. + +ANDREW Where shall I find you? + +TOBY We'll call thee at the cubiculo. Go. +[Sir Andrew exits.] + +FABIAN This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby. + +TOBY I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand +strong or so. + +FABIAN We shall have a rare letter from him. But you'll +not deliver 't? + +TOBY Never trust me, then. And by all means stir on +the youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes +cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were +opened and you find so much blood in his liver as +will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of th' +anatomy. + +FABIAN And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage +no great presage of cruelty. + +[Enter Maria.] + + +TOBY Look where the youngest wren of mine comes. + +MARIA If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves +into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is +turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no +Christian that means to be saved by believing rightly +can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. +He's in yellow stockings. + +TOBY And cross-gartered? + +MARIA Most villainously, like a pedant that keeps a +school i' th' church. I have dogged him like his +murderer. He does obey every point of the letter +that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face +into more lines than is in the new map with the +augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such +a thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things at +him. I know my lady will strike him. If she do, he'll +smile and take 't for a great favor. + +TOBY Come, bring us, bring us where he is. +[They all exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sebastian and Antonio.] + + +SEBASTIAN +I would not by my will have troubled you, +But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, +I will no further chide you. + +ANTONIO +I could not stay behind you. My desire, +More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; +And not all love to see you, though so much +As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, +But jealousy what might befall your travel, +Being skill-less in these parts, which to a stranger, +Unguided and unfriended, often prove +Rough and unhospitable. My willing love, +The rather by these arguments of fear, +Set forth in your pursuit. + +SEBASTIAN My kind Antonio, +I can no other answer make but thanks, +And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns +Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay. +But were my worth, as is my conscience, firm, +You should find better dealing. What's to do? +Shall we go see the relics of this town? + +ANTONIO +Tomorrow, sir. Best first go see your lodging. + +SEBASTIAN +I am not weary, and 'tis long to night. +I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes +With the memorials and the things of fame +That do renown this city. + +ANTONIO Would you'd pardon me. +I do not without danger walk these streets. +Once in a sea fight 'gainst the Count his galleys +I did some service, of such note indeed +That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answered. + +SEBASTIAN +Belike you slew great number of his people? + +ANTONIO +Th' offense is not of such a bloody nature, +Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel +Might well have given us bloody argument. +It might have since been answered in repaying +What we took from them, which, for traffic's sake, +Most of our city did. Only myself stood out, +For which, if I be lapsed in this place, +I shall pay dear. + +SEBASTIAN Do not then walk too open. + +ANTONIO +It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse. +[Giving him money.] +In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, +Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet +Whiles you beguile the time and feed your +knowledge +With viewing of the town. There shall you have me. + +SEBASTIAN Why I your purse? + +ANTONIO +Haply your eye shall light upon some toy +You have desire to purchase, and your store, +I think, is not for idle markets, sir. + +SEBASTIAN +I'll be your purse-bearer and leave you +For an hour. + +ANTONIO To th' Elephant. + +SEBASTIAN I do remember. +[They exit in different directions.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Olivia and Maria.] + + +OLIVIA, [aside] +I have sent after him. He says he'll come. +How shall I feast him? What bestow of him? +For youth is bought more oft than begged or +borrowed. +I speak too loud.-- +Where's Malvolio? He is sad and civil +And suits well for a servant with my fortunes. +Where is Malvolio? + +MARIA He's coming, madam, but in very strange manner. +He is sure possessed, madam. + +OLIVIA Why, what's the matter? Does he rave? + +MARIA No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your +Ladyship were best to have some guard about you if +he come, for sure the man is tainted in 's wits. + +OLIVIA +Go call him hither. [Maria exits.] I am as mad as he, +If sad and merry madness equal be. + +[Enter Maria with Malvolio.] + +How now, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO Sweet lady, ho, ho! + +OLIVIA Smil'st thou? I sent for thee upon a sad +occasion. + +MALVOLIO Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make +some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering, +but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is +with me as the very true sonnet is: "Please one, and +please all." + +OLIVIA Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter +with thee? + +MALVOLIO Not black in my mind, though yellow in my +legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall +be executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman +hand. + +OLIVIA Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO To bed? "Ay, sweetheart, and I'll come to +thee." + +OLIVIA God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and +kiss thy hand so oft? + +MARIA How do you, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO At your request? Yes, nightingales answer +daws! + +MARIA Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness +before my lady? + +MALVOLIO "Be not afraid of greatness." 'Twas well +writ. + +OLIVIA What mean'st thou by that, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO "Some are born great--" + +OLIVIA Ha? + +MALVOLIO "Some achieve greatness--" + +OLIVIA What sayst thou? + +MALVOLIO "And some have greatness thrust upon +them." + +OLIVIA Heaven restore thee! + +MALVOLIO "Remember who commended thy yellow +stockings--" + +OLIVIA Thy yellow stockings? + +MALVOLIO "And wished to see thee cross-gartered." + +OLIVIA Cross-gartered? + +MALVOLIO "Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be +so--" + +OLIVIA Am I made? + +MALVOLIO "If not, let me see thee a servant still." + +OLIVIA Why, this is very midsummer madness! + +[Enter Servant.] + + +SERVANT Madam, the young gentleman of the Count +Orsino's is returned. I could hardly entreat him +back. He attends your Ladyship's pleasure. + +OLIVIA I'll come to him. [Servant exits.] Good Maria, let +this fellow be looked to. Where's my Cousin Toby? +Let some of my people have a special care of him. I +would not have him miscarry for the half of my +dowry. +[Olivia and Maria exit in different directions.] + +MALVOLIO O ho, do you come near me now? No worse +man than Sir Toby to look to me. This concurs +directly with the letter. She sends him on purpose +that I may appear stubborn to him, for she incites +me to that in the letter: "Cast thy humble slough," +says she. "Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with +servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of +state; put thyself into the trick of singularity," and +consequently sets down the manner how: as, a sad +face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit +of some Sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her, +but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! +And when she went away now, "Let this fellow be +looked to." "Fellow!" Not "Malvolio," nor after my +degree, but "fellow." Why, everything adheres together, +that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a +scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe +circumstance--what can be said? Nothing that can +be can come between me and the full prospect of +my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and +he is to be thanked. + +[Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.] + + +TOBY Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all +the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion +himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. + +FABIAN Here he is, here he is.--How is 't with you, sir? +How is 't with you, man? + +MALVOLIO Go off, I discard you. Let me enjoy my +private. Go off. + +MARIA, [to Toby] Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks +within him! Did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady +prays you to have a care of him. + +MALVOLIO Aha, does she so? + +TOBY, [to Fabian and Maria] Go to, go to! Peace, peace. +We must deal gently with him. Let me alone.--How +do you, Malvolio? How is 't with you? What, man, +defy the devil! Consider, he's an enemy to mankind. + +MALVOLIO Do you know what you say? + +MARIA, [to Toby] La you, an you speak ill of the devil, +how he takes it at heart! Pray God he be not +bewitched! + +FABIAN Carry his water to th' wisewoman. + +MARIA Marry, and it shall be done tomorrow morning +if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than +I'll say. + +MALVOLIO How now, mistress? + +MARIA O Lord! + +TOBY Prithee, hold thy peace. This is not the way. Do +you not see you move him? Let me alone with +him. + +FABIAN No way but gentleness, gently, gently. The +fiend is rough and will not be roughly used. + +TOBY, [to Malvolio] Why, how now, my bawcock? How +dost thou, chuck? + +MALVOLIO Sir! + +TOBY Ay, biddy, come with me.--What, man, 'tis not +for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. Hang +him, foul collier! + +MARIA Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby; get +him to pray. + +MALVOLIO My prayers, minx? + +MARIA, [to Toby] No, I warrant you, he will not hear of +godliness. + +MALVOLIO Go hang yourselves all! You are idle, shallow +things. I am not of your element. You shall +know more hereafter. [He exits.] + +TOBY Is 't possible? + +FABIAN If this were played upon a stage now, I could +condemn it as an improbable fiction. + +TOBY His very genius hath taken the infection of the +device, man. + +MARIA Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air +and taint. + +FABIAN Why, we shall make him mad indeed. + +MARIA The house will be the quieter. + +TOBY Come, we'll have him in a dark room and +bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's +mad. We may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his +penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, +prompt us to have mercy on him, at which time we +will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a +finder of madmen. But see, but see! + +[Enter Sir Andrew.] + + +FABIAN More matter for a May morning. + +ANDREW, [presenting a paper] Here's the challenge. +Read it. I warrant there's vinegar and pepper in 't. + +FABIAN Is 't so saucy? + +ANDREW Ay, is 't. I warrant him. Do but read. + +TOBY Give me. [He reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, +thou art but a scurvy fellow. + +FABIAN Good, and valiant. + +TOBY [reads] Wonder not nor admire not in thy mind +why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason +for 't. + +FABIAN A good note, that keeps you from the blow of +the law. + +TOBY [reads] Thou com'st to the Lady Olivia, and in my +sight she uses thee kindly. But thou liest in thy throat; +that is not the matter I challenge thee for. + +FABIAN Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less. + +TOBY [reads] I will waylay thee going home, where if it be +thy chance to kill me-- + +FABIAN Good. + +TOBY [reads] Thou kill'st me like a rogue and a villain. + +FABIAN Still you keep o' th' windy side of the law. +Good. + +TOBY [reads] Fare thee well, and God have mercy upon +one of our souls. He may have mercy upon mine, but +my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as +thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy, +Andrew Aguecheek. +If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I'll +give 't him. + +MARIA You may have very fit occasion for 't. He is now +in some commerce with my lady and will by and +by depart. + +TOBY Go, Sir Andrew. Scout me for him at the corner +of the orchard like a bum-baily. So soon as ever +thou seest him, draw, and as thou draw'st, swear +horrible, for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, +with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives +manhood more approbation than ever proof itself +would have earned him. Away! + +ANDREW Nay, let me alone for swearing. [He exits.] + +TOBY Now will not I deliver his letter, for the behavior +of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good +capacity and breeding; his employment between +his lord and my niece confirms no less. Therefore, +this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed +no terror in the youth. He will find it comes from a +clodpoll. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by +word of mouth, set upon Aguecheek a notable +report of valor, and drive the gentleman (as I know +his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous +opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This +will so fright them both that they will kill one +another by the look, like cockatrices. + +[Enter Olivia and Viola.] + + +FABIAN Here he comes with your niece. Give them +way till he take leave, and presently after him. + +TOBY I will meditate the while upon some horrid +message for a challenge. +[Toby, Fabian, and Maria exit.] + +OLIVIA +I have said too much unto a heart of stone +And laid mine honor too unchary on 't. +There's something in me that reproves my fault, +But such a headstrong potent fault it is +That it but mocks reproof. + +VIOLA +With the same 'havior that your passion bears +Goes on my master's griefs. + +OLIVIA +Here, wear this jewel for me. 'Tis my picture. +Refuse it not. It hath no tongue to vex you. +And I beseech you come again tomorrow. +What shall you ask of me that I'll deny, +That honor, saved, may upon asking give? + +VIOLA +Nothing but this: your true love for my master. + +OLIVIA +How with mine honor may I give him that +Which I have given to you? + +VIOLA I will acquit you. + +OLIVIA +Well, come again tomorrow. Fare thee well. +A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. +[She exits.] + +[Enter Toby and Fabian.] + + +TOBY Gentleman, God save thee. + +VIOLA And you, sir. + +TOBY That defense thou hast, betake thee to 't. Of what +nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know +not, but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as +the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end. Dismount +thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy +assailant is quick, skillful, and deadly. + +VIOLA You mistake, sir. I am sure no man hath any +quarrel to me. My remembrance is very free and +clear from any image of offense done to any man. + +TOBY You'll find it otherwise, I assure you. Therefore, +if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your +guard, for your opposite hath in him what youth, +strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal. + +VIOLA I pray you, sir, what is he? + +TOBY He is knight dubbed with unhatched rapier and +on carpet consideration, but he is a devil in private +brawl. Souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and +his incensement at this moment is so implacable +that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death +and sepulcher. "Hob, nob" is his word; "give 't or +take 't." + +VIOLA I will return again into the house and desire +some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have +heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely +on others to taste their valor. Belike this is a +man of that quirk. + +TOBY Sir, no. His indignation derives itself out of a very +competent injury. Therefore get you on and give +him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, +unless you undertake that with me which with as +much safety you might answer him. Therefore on, +or strip your sword stark naked, for meddle you +must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about +you. + +VIOLA This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do +me this courteous office, as to know of the knight +what my offense to him is. It is something of my +negligence, nothing of my purpose. + +TOBY I will do so.--Signior Fabian, stay you by this +gentleman till my return. [Toby exits.] + +VIOLA Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? + +FABIAN I know the knight is incensed against you even +to a mortal arbitrament, but nothing of the circumstance +more. + +VIOLA I beseech you, what manner of man is he? + +FABIAN Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read +him by his form, as you are like to find him in the +proof of his valor. He is indeed, sir, the most skillful, +bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly +have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk +towards him? I will make your peace with him if I +can. + +VIOLA I shall be much bound to you for 't. I am one +that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight, I +care not who knows so much of my mettle. +[They exit.] + +[Enter Toby and Andrew.] + + +TOBY Why, man, he's a very devil. I have not seen such +a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, +and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such +a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the +answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hits the +ground they step on. They say he has been fencer +to the Sophy. + +ANDREW Pox on 't! I'll not meddle with him. + +TOBY Ay, but he will not now be pacified. Fabian can +scarce hold him yonder. + +ANDREW Plague on 't! An I thought he had been +valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him +damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let +the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, gray +Capilet. + +TOBY I'll make the motion. Stand here, make a good +show on 't. This shall end without the perdition of +souls. [Aside.] Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I +ride you. + +[Enter Fabian and Viola.] + +[Toby crosses to meet them.] +[Aside to Fabian.] I have his horse to take up the +quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. + +FABIAN, [aside to Toby] He is as horribly conceited of +him, and pants and looks pale as if a bear were at his +heels. + +TOBY, [to Viola] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight +with you for 's oath sake. Marry, he hath better +bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now +scarce to be worth talking of. Therefore, draw for +the supportance of his vow. He protests he will not +hurt you. + +VIOLA Pray God defend me! [Aside.] A little thing +would make me tell them how much I lack of a +man. + +FABIAN Give ground if you see him furious. +[Toby crosses to Andrew.] + +TOBY Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy. The +gentleman will, for his honor's sake, have one bout +with you. He cannot by the duello avoid it. But he +has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, +he will not hurt you. Come on, to 't. + +ANDREW, [drawing his sword] Pray God he keep his +oath! + +VIOLA, [drawing her sword] +I do assure you 'tis against my will. + +[Enter Antonio.] + + +ANTONIO, [to Andrew] +Put up your sword. If this young gentleman +Have done offense, I take the fault on me. +If you offend him, I for him defy you. + +TOBY You, sir? Why, what are you? + +ANTONIO, [drawing his sword] +One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more +Than you have heard him brag to you he will. + +TOBY, [drawing his sword] +Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. + +[Enter Officers.] + + +FABIAN O, good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers. + +TOBY, [to Antonio] I'll be with you anon. + +VIOLA, [to Andrew] Pray, sir, put your sword up, if +you please. + +ANDREW Marry, will I, sir. And for that I promised +you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear you +easily, and reins well. + +FIRST OFFICER This is the man. Do thy office. + +SECOND OFFICER Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of +Count Orsino. + +ANTONIO You do mistake me, sir. + +FIRST OFFICER +No, sir, no jot. I know your favor well, +Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.-- +Take him away. He knows I know him well. + +ANTONIO +I must obey. [To Viola.] This comes with seeking +you. +But there's no remedy. I shall answer it. +What will you do, now my necessity +Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me +Much more for what I cannot do for you +Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed, +But be of comfort. + +SECOND OFFICER Come, sir, away. + +ANTONIO, [to Viola] +I must entreat of you some of that money. + +VIOLA What money, sir? +For the fair kindness you have showed me here, +And part being prompted by your present trouble, +Out of my lean and low ability +I'll lend you something. My having is not much. +I'll make division of my present with you. +Hold, there's half my coffer. [Offering him money.] + +ANTONIO Will you deny me now? +Is 't possible that my deserts to you +Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, +Lest that it make me so unsound a man +As to upbraid you with those kindnesses +That I have done for you. + +VIOLA I know of none, +Nor know I you by voice or any feature. +I hate ingratitude more in a man +Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness, +Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption +Inhabits our frail blood-- + +ANTONIO O heavens themselves! + +SECOND OFFICER Come, sir, I pray you go. + +ANTONIO +Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here +I snatched one half out of the jaws of death, +Relieved him with such sanctity of love, +And to his image, which methought did promise +Most venerable worth, did I devotion. + +FIRST OFFICER +What's that to us? The time goes by. Away! + +ANTONIO +But O, how vile an idol proves this god! +Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. +In nature there's no blemish but the mind; +None can be called deformed but the unkind. +Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil +Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil. + +FIRST OFFICER +The man grows mad. Away with him.--Come, +come, sir. + +ANTONIO Lead me on. +[Antonio and Officers exit.] + +VIOLA, [aside] +Methinks his words do from such passion fly +That he believes himself; so do not I. +Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, +That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you! + +TOBY Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian. We'll +whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws. +[Toby, Fabian, and Andrew move aside.] + +VIOLA, [aside] +He named Sebastian. I my brother know +Yet living in my glass. Even such and so +In favor was my brother, and he went +Still in this fashion, color, ornament, +For him I imitate. O, if it prove, +Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! +[She exits.] + +TOBY A very dishonest, paltry boy, and more a coward +than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his +friend here in necessity and denying him; and for +his cowardship, ask Fabian. + +FABIAN A coward, a most devout coward, religious +in it. + +ANDREW 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him. + +TOBY Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy +sword. + +ANDREW An I do not-- + +FABIAN Come, let's see the event. + +TOBY I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Sebastian and Feste, the Fool.] + + +FOOL Will you make me believe that I am not sent for +you? + +SEBASTIAN Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow. Let +me be clear of thee. + +FOOL Well held out, i' faith. No, I do not know you, nor +I am not sent to you by my lady to bid you come +speak with her, nor your name is not Master +Cesario, nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing +that is so is so. + +SEBASTIAN I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else. +Thou know'st not me. + +FOOL Vent my folly? He has heard that word of some +great man and now applies it to a Fool. Vent my +folly? I am afraid this great lubber the world will +prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness +and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I +vent to her that thou art coming? + +SEBASTIAN I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me. +There's money for thee. [Giving money.] If you +tarry longer, I shall give worse payment. + +FOOL By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise +men that give Fools money get themselves a good +report--after fourteen years' purchase. + +[Enter Andrew, Toby, and Fabian.] + + +ANDREW, [to Sebastian] Now, sir, have I met you again? +There's for you. [He strikes Sebastian.] + +SEBASTIAN, [returning the blow] Why, there's for thee, +and there, and there.--Are all the people mad? + +TOBY Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the +house. + +FOOL, [aside] This will I tell my lady straight. I would +not be in some of your coats for twopence. +[He exits.] + +TOBY, [seizing Sebastian] Come on, sir, hold! + +ANDREW Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to +work with him. I'll have an action of battery against +him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck +him first, yet it's no matter for that. + +SEBASTIAN, [to Toby] Let go thy hand! + +TOBY Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young +soldier, put up your iron. You are well fleshed. +Come on. + +SEBASTIAN +I will be free from thee. +[He pulls free and draws his sword.] +What wouldst thou now? +If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. + +TOBY What, what? Nay, then, I must have an ounce or +two of this malapert blood from you. +[He draws his sword.] + +[Enter Olivia.] + + +OLIVIA +Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee, hold! + +TOBY Madam. + +OLIVIA +Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, +Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, +Where manners ne'er were preached! Out of my +sight!-- +Be not offended, dear Cesario.-- +Rudesby, begone! [Toby, Andrew, and Fabian exit.] +I prithee, gentle friend, +Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway +In this uncivil and unjust extent +Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, +And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks +This ruffian hath botched up, that thou thereby +Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go. +Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me! +He started one poor heart of mine, in thee. + +SEBASTIAN, [aside] +What relish is in this? How runs the stream? +Or I am mad, or else this is a dream. +Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; +If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! + +OLIVIA +Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou 'dst be ruled by +me! + +SEBASTIAN +Madam, I will. + +OLIVIA O, say so, and so be! +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Maria and Feste, the Fool.] + + +MARIA Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; +make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate. Do +it quickly. I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. [She exits.] + +FOOL Well, I'll put it on and I will dissemble myself in +'t, and I would I were the first that ever dissembled +in such a gown. [He puts on gown and beard.] I am +not tall enough to become the function well, nor +lean enough to be thought a good student, but to be +said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as +fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. +The competitors enter. + +[Enter Toby and Maria.] + + +TOBY Jove bless thee, Master Parson. + +FOOL Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for, as the old hermit of +Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said +to a niece of King Gorboduc "That that is, is," so I, +being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for what is +"that" but "that" and "is" but "is"? + +TOBY To him, Sir Topas. + +FOOL, [disguising his voice] What ho, I say! Peace in this +prison! + +TOBY The knave counterfeits well. A good knave. + +[Malvolio within.] + + +MALVOLIO Who calls there? + +FOOL Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio +the lunatic. + +MALVOLIO Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to +my lady-- + +FOOL Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this +man! Talkest thou nothing but of ladies? + +TOBY, [aside] Well said, Master Parson. + +MALVOLIO Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. +Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad. They have +laid me here in hideous darkness-- + +FOOL Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most +modest terms, for I am one of those gentle ones +that will use the devil himself with courtesy. Sayst +thou that house is dark? + +MALVOLIO As hell, Sir Topas. + +FOOL Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, +and the clerestories toward the south-north +are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest +thou of obstruction? + +MALVOLIO I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this +house is dark. + +FOOL Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness +but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than +the Egyptians in their fog. + +MALVOLIO I say this house is as dark as ignorance, +though ignorance were as dark as hell. And I say +there was never man thus abused. I am no more +mad than you are. Make the trial of it in any +constant question. + +FOOL What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning +wildfowl? + +MALVOLIO That the soul of our grandam might haply +inhabit a bird. + +FOOL What thinkst thou of his opinion? + +MALVOLIO I think nobly of the soul, and no way +approve his opinion. + +FOOL Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness. +Thou shalt hold th' opinion of Pythagoras ere I will +allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock lest +thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee +well. + +MALVOLIO Sir Topas, Sir Topas! + +TOBY My most exquisite Sir Topas! + +FOOL Nay, I am for all waters. + +MARIA Thou mightst have done this without thy beard +and gown. He sees thee not. + +TOBY To him in thine own voice, and bring me word +how thou find'st him. I would we were well rid +of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, +I would he were, for I am now so far in +offense with my niece that I cannot pursue with +any safety this sport the upshot. Come by and by +to my chamber. +[Toby and Maria exit.] + +FOOL [sings, in his own voice] +Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, +Tell me how thy lady does. + +MALVOLIO Fool! + +FOOL [sings] +My lady is unkind, perdy. + +MALVOLIO Fool! + +FOOL [sings] +Alas, why is she so? + +MALVOLIO Fool, I say! + +FOOL [sings] +She loves another-- +Who calls, ha? + +MALVOLIO Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at +my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and +paper. As I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful +to thee for 't. + +FOOL Master Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO Ay, good Fool. + +FOOL Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? + +MALVOLIO Fool, there was never man so notoriously +abused. I am as well in my wits, Fool, as thou art. + +FOOL But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be +no better in your wits than a Fool. + +MALVOLIO They have here propertied me, keep me in +darkness, send ministers to me--asses!--and do +all they can to face me out of my wits. + +FOOL Advise you what you say. The minister is here. +[In the voice of Sir Topas.] Malvolio, Malvolio, thy +wits the heavens restore. Endeavor thyself to sleep +and leave thy vain bibble-babble. + +MALVOLIO Sir Topas! + +FOOL, [as Sir Topas] Maintain no words with him, good +fellow. [As Fool.] Who, I, sir? Not I, sir! God buy +you, good Sir Topas. [As Sir Topas.] Marry, amen. +[As Fool.] I will, sir, I will. + +MALVOLIO Fool! Fool! Fool, I say! + +FOOL Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am +shent for speaking to you. + +MALVOLIO Good Fool, help me to some light and some +paper. I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any +man in Illyria. + +FOOL Welladay that you were, sir! + +MALVOLIO By this hand, I am. Good Fool, some ink, +paper, and light; and convey what I will set down to +my lady. It shall advantage thee more than ever the +bearing of letter did. + +FOOL I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you not +mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit? + +MALVOLIO Believe me, I am not. I tell thee true. + +FOOL Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his +brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink. + +MALVOLIO Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree. I +prithee, begone. + +FOOL [sings] + I am gone, sir, and anon, sir, + I'll be with you again, + In a trice, like to the old Vice, + Your need to sustain. + Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath, + Cries "aha!" to the devil; + Like a mad lad, "Pare thy nails, dad! + Adieu, goodman devil." +[He exits.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Sebastian.] + + +SEBASTIAN +This is the air; that is the glorious sun. +This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't. +And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, +Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then? +I could not find him at the Elephant. +Yet there he was; and there I found this credit, +That he did range the town to seek me out. +His counsel now might do me golden service. +For though my soul disputes well with my sense +That this may be some error, but no madness, +Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune +So far exceed all instance, all discourse, +That I am ready to distrust mine eyes +And wrangle with my reason that persuades me +To any other trust but that I am mad-- +Or else the lady's mad. Yet if 'twere so, +She could not sway her house, command her +followers, +Take and give back affairs and their dispatch +With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing +As I perceive she does. There's something in 't +That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. + +[Enter Olivia, and a Priest.] + + +OLIVIA, [to Sebastian] +Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, +Now go with me and with this holy man +Into the chantry by. There, before him +And underneath that consecrated roof, +Plight me the full assurance of your faith, +That my most jealous and too doubtful soul +May live at peace. He shall conceal it +Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, +What time we will our celebration keep +According to my birth. What do you say? + +SEBASTIAN +I'll follow this good man and go with you, +And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. + +OLIVIA +Then lead the way, good father, and heavens so +shine +That they may fairly note this act of mine. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Feste, the Fool and Fabian.] + + +FABIAN Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see his letter. + +FOOL Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. + +FABIAN Anything. + +FOOL Do not desire to see this letter. + +FABIAN This is to give a dog and in recompense desire +my dog again. + +[Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and Lords.] + + +ORSINO +Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends? + +FOOL Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings. + +ORSINO +I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow? + +FOOL Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse +for my friends. + +ORSINO +Just the contrary: the better for thy friends. + +FOOL No, sir, the worse. + +ORSINO How can that be? + +FOOL Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. +Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by +my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and +by my friends I am abused. So that, conclusions to +be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two +affirmatives, why then the worse for my friends and +the better for my foes. + +ORSINO Why, this is excellent. + +FOOL By my troth, sir, no--though it please you to be +one of my friends. + +ORSINO, [giving a coin] +Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold. + +FOOL But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would +you could make it another. + +ORSINO O, you give me ill counsel. + +FOOL Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, +and let your flesh and blood obey it. + +ORSINO Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a +double-dealer: there's another. [He gives a coin.] + +FOOL Primo, secundo, tertio is a good play, and the old +saying is, the third pays for all. The triplex, sir, is a +good tripping measure, or the bells of Saint Bennet, +sir, may put you in mind--one, two, three. + +ORSINO You can fool no more money out of me at this +throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to +speak with her, and bring her along with you, it +may awake my bounty further. + +FOOL Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come +again. I go, sir, but I would not have you to think +that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness. +But, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap. I +will awake it anon. [He exits.] + +[Enter Antonio and Officers.] + + +VIOLA +Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. + +ORSINO +That face of his I do remember well. +Yet when I saw it last, it was besmeared +As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war. +A baubling vessel was he captain of, +For shallow draught and bulk unprizable, +With which such scatheful grapple did he make +With the most noble bottom of our fleet +That very envy and the tongue of loss +Cried fame and honor on him.--What's the matter? + +FIRST OFFICER +Orsino, this is that Antonio +That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy, +And this is he that did the Tiger board +When your young nephew Titus lost his leg. +Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, +In private brabble did we apprehend him. + +VIOLA +He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side, +But in conclusion put strange speech upon me. +I know not what 'twas but distraction. + +ORSINO +Notable pirate, thou saltwater thief, +What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies +Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, +Hast made thine enemies? + +ANTONIO Orsino, noble sir, +Be pleased that I shake off these names you give +me. +Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, +Though, I confess, on base and ground enough, +Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither. +That most ingrateful boy there by your side +From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth +Did I redeem; a wrack past hope he was. +His life I gave him and did thereto add +My love, without retention or restraint, +All his in dedication. For his sake +Did I expose myself, pure for his love, +Into the danger of this adverse town; +Drew to defend him when he was beset; +Where, being apprehended, his false cunning +(Not meaning to partake with me in danger) +Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance +And grew a twenty years' removed thing +While one would wink; denied me mine own purse, +Which I had recommended to his use +Not half an hour before. + +VIOLA How can this be? + +ORSINO, [to Antonio] When came he to this town? + +ANTONIO +Today, my lord; and for three months before, +No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy, +Both day and night did we keep company. + +[Enter Olivia and Attendants.] + + +ORSINO +Here comes the Countess. Now heaven walks on +Earth!-- +But for thee, fellow: fellow, thy words are madness. +Three months this youth hath tended upon me-- +But more of that anon. [To an Officer.] Take him +aside. + +OLIVIA +What would my lord, but that he may not have, +Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?-- +Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. + +VIOLA Madam? + +ORSINO Gracious Olivia-- + +OLIVIA +What do you say, Cesario?--Good my lord-- + +VIOLA +My lord would speak; my duty hushes me. + +OLIVIA +If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, +It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear +As howling after music. + +ORSINO +Still so cruel? + +OLIVIA Still so constant, lord. + +ORSINO +What, to perverseness? You, uncivil lady, +To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars +My soul the faithful'st off'rings have breathed out +That e'er devotion tendered--what shall I do? + +OLIVIA +Even what it please my lord that shall become him. + +ORSINO +Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, +Like to th' Egyptian thief at point of death, +Kill what I love?--a savage jealousy +That sometime savors nobly. But hear me this: +Since you to nonregardance cast my faith, +And that I partly know the instrument +That screws me from my true place in your favor, +Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still. +But this your minion, whom I know you love, +And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, +Him will I tear out of that cruel eye +Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.-- +Come, boy, with me. My thoughts are ripe in +mischief. +I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love +To spite a raven's heart within a dove. + +VIOLA +And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, +To do you rest a thousand deaths would die. + +OLIVIA +Where goes Cesario? + +VIOLA After him I love +More than I love these eyes, more than my life, +More by all mores than e'er I shall love wife. +If I do feign, you witnesses above, +Punish my life for tainting of my love. + +OLIVIA +Ay me, detested! How am I beguiled! + +VIOLA +Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong? + +OLIVIA +Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?-- +Call forth the holy father. [An Attendant exits.] + +ORSINO, [to Viola] Come, away! + +OLIVIA +Whither, my lord?--Cesario, husband, stay. + +ORSINO +Husband? + +OLIVIA Ay, husband. Can he that deny? + +ORSINO +Her husband, sirrah? + +VIOLA No, my lord, not I. + +OLIVIA +Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear +That makes thee strangle thy propriety. +Fear not, Cesario. Take thy fortunes up. +Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art +As great as that thou fear'st. + +[Enter Priest.] + +O, welcome, father. +Father, I charge thee by thy reverence +Here to unfold (though lately we intended +To keep in darkness what occasion now +Reveals before 'tis ripe) what thou dost know +Hath newly passed between this youth and me. + +PRIEST +A contract of eternal bond of love, +Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, +Attested by the holy close of lips, +Strengthened by interchangement of your rings, +And all the ceremony of this compact +Sealed in my function, by my testimony; +Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my +grave +I have traveled but two hours. + +ORSINO, [to Viola] +O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be +When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case? +Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow +That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? +Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feet +Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. + +VIOLA +My lord, I do protest-- + +OLIVIA O, do not swear. +Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. + +[Enter Sir Andrew.] + + +ANDREW For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one +presently to Sir Toby. + +OLIVIA What's the matter? + +ANDREW Has broke my head across, and has given Sir +Toby a bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God, +your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at +home. + +OLIVIA Who has done this, Sir Andrew? + +ANDREW The Count's gentleman, one Cesario. We took +him for a coward, but he's the very devil +incardinate. + +ORSINO My gentleman Cesario? + +ANDREW 'Od's lifelings, here he is!--You broke my +head for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to +do 't by Sir Toby. + +VIOLA +Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you. +You drew your sword upon me without cause, +But I bespake you fair and hurt you not. + +ANDREW If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt +me. I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. + +[Enter Toby and Feste, the Fool.] + +Here comes Sir Toby halting. You shall hear +more. But if he had not been in drink, he would +have tickled you othergates than he did. + +ORSINO How now, gentleman? How is 't with you? + +TOBY That's all one. Has hurt me, and there's th' end +on 't. [To Fool.] Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot? + +FOOL O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes +were set at eight i' th' morning. + +TOBY Then he's a rogue and a passy-measures pavin. I +hate a drunken rogue. + +OLIVIA Away with him! Who hath made this havoc +with them? + +ANDREW I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be +dressed together. + +TOBY Will you help?--an ass-head, and a coxcomb, +and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull? + +OLIVIA +Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to. +[Toby, Andrew, Fool, and Fabian exit.] + +[Enter Sebastian.] + + +SEBASTIAN +I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman, +But, had it been the brother of my blood, +I must have done no less with wit and safety. +You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that +I do perceive it hath offended you. +Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows +We made each other but so late ago. + +ORSINO +One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons! +A natural perspective, that is and is not! + +SEBASTIAN +Antonio, O, my dear Antonio! +How have the hours racked and tortured me +Since I have lost thee! + +ANTONIO +Sebastian are you? + +SEBASTIAN Fear'st thou that, Antonio? + +ANTONIO +How have you made division of yourself? +An apple cleft in two is not more twin +Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? + +OLIVIA Most wonderful! + +SEBASTIAN, [looking at Viola] +Do I stand there? I never had a brother, +Nor can there be that deity in my nature +Of here and everywhere. I had a sister +Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured. +Of charity, what kin are you to me? +What countryman? What name? What parentage? + +VIOLA +Of Messaline. Sebastian was my father. +Such a Sebastian was my brother too. +So went he suited to his watery tomb. +If spirits can assume both form and suit, +You come to fright us. + +SEBASTIAN A spirit I am indeed, +But am in that dimension grossly clad +Which from the womb I did participate. +Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, +I should my tears let fall upon your cheek +And say "Thrice welcome, drowned Viola." + +VIOLA +My father had a mole upon his brow. + +SEBASTIAN And so had mine. + +VIOLA +And died that day when Viola from her birth +Had numbered thirteen years. + +SEBASTIAN +O, that record is lively in my soul! +He finished indeed his mortal act +That day that made my sister thirteen years. + +VIOLA +If nothing lets to make us happy both +But this my masculine usurped attire, +Do not embrace me till each circumstance +Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump +That I am Viola; which to confirm, +I'll bring you to a captain in this town, +Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help +I was preserved to serve this noble count. +All the occurrence of my fortune since +Hath been between this lady and this lord. + +SEBASTIAN, [to Olivia] +So comes it, lady, you have been mistook. +But nature to her bias drew in that. +You would have been contracted to a maid. +Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived: +You are betrothed both to a maid and man. + +ORSINO, [to Olivia] +Be not amazed; right noble is his blood. +If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, +I shall have share in this most happy wrack.-- +Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times +Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. + +VIOLA +And all those sayings will I overswear, +And all those swearings keep as true in soul +As doth that orbed continent the fire +That severs day from night. + +ORSINO Give me thy hand, +And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. + +VIOLA +The Captain that did bring me first on shore +Hath my maid's garments. He, upon some action, +Is now in durance at Malvolio's suit, +A gentleman and follower of my lady's. + +OLIVIA +He shall enlarge him. + +[Enter Feste, the Fool with a letter, and Fabian.] + +Fetch Malvolio hither. +And yet, alas, now I remember me, +They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract. +A most extracting frenzy of mine own +From my remembrance clearly banished his. +[To the Fool.] How does he, sirrah? + +FOOL Truly, madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave's +end as well as a man in his case may do. Has here +writ a letter to you. I should have given 't you today +morning. But as a madman's epistles are no gospels, +so it skills not much when they are delivered. + +OLIVIA Open 't and read it. + +FOOL Look then to be well edified, when the Fool +delivers the madman. [He reads.] By the Lord, +madam-- + +OLIVIA How now, art thou mad? + +FOOL No, madam, I do but read madness. An your +Ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must +allow vox. + +OLIVIA Prithee, read i' thy right wits. + +FOOL So I do, madonna. But to read his right wits is to +read thus. Therefore, perpend, my princess, and +give ear. + +OLIVIA, [giving letter to Fabian] Read it you, sirrah. + +FABIAN [(reads)] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and +the world shall know it. Though you have put me into +darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over +me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your +Ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to +the semblance I put on, with the which I doubt not but +to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of +me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of +and speak out of my injury. +The madly used Malvolio. + +OLIVIA Did he write this? + +FOOL Ay, madam. + +ORSINO +This savors not much of distraction. + +OLIVIA +See him delivered, Fabian. Bring him hither. +[Fabian exits.] +[To Orsino.] My lord, so please you, these things +further thought on, +To think me as well a sister as a wife, +One day shall crown th' alliance on 't, so please +you, +Here at my house, and at my proper cost. + +ORSINO +Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer. +[To Viola.] Your master quits you; and for your +service done him, +So much against the mettle of your sex, +So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, +And since you called me "master" for so long, +Here is my hand. You shall from this time be +Your master's mistress. + +OLIVIA, [to Viola] A sister! You are she. + +[Enter Malvolio and Fabian.] + + +ORSINO +Is this the madman? + +OLIVIA Ay, my lord, this same.-- +How now, Malvolio? + +MALVOLIO Madam, you have done me +wrong, +Notorious wrong. + +OLIVIA Have I, Malvolio? No. + +MALVOLIO, [handing her a paper] +Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter. +You must not now deny it is your hand. +Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase, +Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention. +You can say none of this. Well, grant it then, +And tell me, in the modesty of honor, +Why you have given me such clear lights of favor? +Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you, +To put on yellow stockings, and to frown +Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people? +And, acting this in an obedient hope, +Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned, +Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, +And made the most notorious geck and gull +That e'er invention played on? Tell me why. + +OLIVIA +Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, +Though I confess much like the character. +But out of question, 'tis Maria's hand. +And now I do bethink me, it was she +First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling, +And in such forms which here were presupposed +Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content. +This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee. +But when we know the grounds and authors of it, +Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge +Of thine own cause. + +FABIAN Good madam, hear me speak, +And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come +Taint the condition of this present hour, +Which I have wondered at. In hope it shall not, +Most freely I confess, myself and Toby +Set this device against Malvolio here, +Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts +We had conceived against him. Maria writ +The letter at Sir Toby's great importance, +In recompense whereof he hath married her. +How with a sportful malice it was followed +May rather pluck on laughter than revenge, +If that the injuries be justly weighed +That have on both sides passed. + +OLIVIA, [to Malvolio] +Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee! + +FOOL Why, "some are born great, some achieve greatness, +and some have greatness thrown upon them." +I was one, sir, in this interlude, one Sir Topas, sir, +but that's all one. "By the Lord, Fool, I am not +mad"--but, do you remember "Madam, why laugh +you at such a barren rascal; an you smile not, he's +gagged"? And thus the whirligig of time brings in +his revenges. + +MALVOLIO +I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you! [He exits.] + +OLIVIA +He hath been most notoriously abused. + +ORSINO +Pursue him and entreat him to a peace. [Some exit.] +He hath not told us of the Captain yet. +When that is known, and golden time convents, +A solemn combination shall be made +Of our dear souls.--Meantime, sweet sister, +We will not part from hence.--Cesario, come, +For so you shall be while you are a man. +But when in other habits you are seen, +Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen. +[All but the Fool exit.] + +FOOL [sings] + When that I was and a little tiny boy, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + A foolish thing was but a toy, + For the rain it raineth every day. + + But when I came to man's estate, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, + For the rain it raineth every day. + + But when I came, alas, to wive, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + By swaggering could I never thrive, + For the rain it raineth every day. + + But when I came unto my beds, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + With tosspots still had drunken heads, + For the rain it raineth every day. + + A great while ago the world begun, + With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, + But that's all one, our play is done, + And we'll strive to please you every day. +[He exits.] diff --git a/datasets/bard/venus-and-adonis_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt b/datasets/bard/venus-and-adonis_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d28da76 --- /dev/null +++ b/datasets/bard/venus-and-adonis_TXT_FolgerShakespeare.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1434 @@ +Venus and Adonis +by William Shakespeare +Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine + with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles +Folger Shakespeare Library +https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/venus-and-adonis/ +Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.0.1 + + +Vilia miretur vulgus: mihi flavus Apollo +Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua. + +TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE +Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, +and Baron of Titchfield. + + +Right Honorable, + +I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to +your Lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so +strong a prop to support so weak a burden; only if your Honor seem +but pleased, I account myself highly praised and vow to take advantage +of all idle hours till I have honored you with some graver labor. +But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it +had so noble a godfather and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it +yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honorable survey, and +your Honor to your heart's content, which I wish may always answer +your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation. + + +Your Honor's in all duty, +William Shakespeare. + + + + +Venus and Adonis + + +Even as the sun with purple-colored face +Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn, +Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase. +Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn. + Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him + And, like a bold-faced suitor, gins to woo him. + +"Thrice fairer than myself," thus she began, +"The field's chief flower, sweet above compare, +Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man, +More white and red than doves or roses are, + Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, + Saith that the world hath ending with thy life. + +"Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed, +And rein his proud head to the saddlebow. +If thou wilt deign this favor, for thy meed +A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know. + Here come and sit where never serpent hisses, + And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses, + +"And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety, +But rather famish them amid their plenty, +Making them red and pale with fresh variety-- +Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty. + A summer's day will seem an hour but short, + Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport." + +With this she seizeth on his sweating palm, +The precedent of pith and livelihood, +And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm, +Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good. + Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force + Courageously to pluck him from his horse. + +Over one arm the lusty courser's rein, +Under her other was the tender boy, +Who blushed and pouted in a dull disdain, +With leaden appetite, unapt to toy-- + She red and hot as coals of glowing fire, + He red for shame but frosty in desire. + +The studded bridle on a ragged bough +Nimbly she fastens. O, how quick is love! +The steed is stalled up, and even now +To tie the rider she begins to prove. + Backward she pushed him as she would be thrust, + And governed him in strength though not in lust. + +So soon was she along as he was down, +Each leaning on their elbows and their hips. +Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown +And gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips + And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken, + "If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open." + +He burns with bashful shame; she with her tears +Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks. +Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs +To fan and blow them dry again she seeks. + He saith she is immodest, blames her miss; + What follows more she murders with a kiss. + +Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, +Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone, +Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste +Till either gorge be stuffed or prey be gone, + Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin, + And where she ends she doth anew begin. + +Forced to content but never to obey, +Panting he lies and breatheth in her face. +She feedeth on the steam as on a prey +And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace, + Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers, + So they were dewed with such distilling showers. + +Look how a bird lies tangled in a net, +So fastened in her arms Adonis lies. +Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret, +Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes. + Rain added to a river that is rank + Perforce will force it overflow the bank. + +Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, +For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale. +Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets, +'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy pale; + Being red, she loves him best, and being white, + Her best is bettered with a more delight. + +Look how he can, she cannot choose but love, +And by her fair immortal hand she swears +From his soft bosom never to remove +Till he take truce with her contending tears, + Which long have rained, making her cheeks all wet, + And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt. + +Upon this promise did he raise his chin +Like a divedapper peering through a wave, +Who, being looked on, ducks as quickly in; +So offers he to give what she did crave, + But when her lips were ready for his pay, + He winks and turns his lips another way. + +Never did passenger in summer's heat +More thirst for drink than she for this good turn. +Her help she sees, but help she cannot get; +She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn. + "O, pity," gan she cry, "flint-hearted boy! + 'Tis but a kiss I beg. Why art thou coy? + +"I have been wooed, as I entreat thee now, +Even by the stern and direful god of war, +Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow, +Who conquers where he comes in every jar, + Yet hath he been my captive and my slave + And begged for that which thou unasked shalt have. + +"Over my altars hath he hung his lance, +His battered shield, his uncontrolled crest, +And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance, +To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest, + Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red, + Making my arms his field, his tent my bed. + +"Thus he that overruled I overswayed, +Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain; +Strong-tempered steel his stronger strength obeyed, +Yet was he servile to my coy disdain. + O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might + For mastering her that foiled the god of fight! + +"Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine; +Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red. +The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine. +What seest thou in the ground? Hold up thy head. + Look in mine eyeballs; there thy beauty lies. + Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes? + +"Art thou ashamed to kiss? Then wink again, +And I will wink; so shall the day seem night. +Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; +Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight. + These blue-veined violets whereon we lean + Never can blab, nor know not what we mean. + +"The tender spring upon thy tempting lip +Shows thee unripe, yet mayst thou well be tasted. +Make use of time, let not advantage slip; +Beauty within itself should not be wasted. + Fair flowers that are not gathered in their prime + Rot and consume themselves in little time. + +"Were I hard-favored, foul, or wrinkled old, +Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, +O'erworn, despised, rheumatic, and cold, +Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice, + Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee, + But having no defects, why dost abhor me? + +"Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; +Mine eyes are gray, and bright, and quick in turning; +My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow, +My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning; + My smooth, moist hand, were it with thy hand felt, + Would in thy palm dissolve or seem to melt. + +"Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, +Or like a fairy trip upon the green, +Or like a nymph, with long disheveled hair, +Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen. + Love is a spirit all compact of fire, + Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire. + +"Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie; +These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me; +Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky +From morn till night, even where I list to sport me. + Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be + That thou should think it heavy unto thee? + +"Is thine own heart to thine own face affected? +Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left? +Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected; +Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft. + Narcissus so himself himself forsook + And died to kiss his shadow in the brook. + +"Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, +Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, +Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear. +Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse; + Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty; + Thou wast begot; to get, it is thy duty. + +"Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed, +Unless the earth with thy increase be fed? +By law of nature thou art bound to breed, +That thine may live when thou thyself art dead; + And so in spite of death thou dost survive, + In that thy likeness still is left alive." + +By this the lovesick queen began to sweat, +For where they lay the shadow had forsook them, +And Titan, tired in the midday heat, +With burning eye did hotly overlook them, + Wishing Adonis had his team to guide, + So he were like him and by Venus' side. + +And now Adonis, with a lazy sprite +And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye, +His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight, +Like misty vapors when they blot the sky, + Souring his cheeks, cries, "Fie, no more of love! + The sun doth burn my face; I must remove." + +"Ay, me," quoth Venus, "young and so unkind, +What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone! +I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind +Shall cool the heat of this descending sun. + I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs; + If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears. + +"The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm, +And, lo, I lie between that sun and thee. +The heat I have from thence doth little harm; +Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me, + And were I not immortal, life were done + Between this heavenly and earthly sun. + +"Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel? +Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth. +Art thou a woman's son and canst not feel +What 'tis to love, how want of love tormenteth? + O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind, + She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind. + +"What am I that thou shouldst contemn me this? +Or what great danger dwells upon my suit? +What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss? +Speak, fair, but speak fair words, or else be mute. + Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again, + And one for interest if thou wilt have twain. + +"Fie, liveless picture, cold and senseless stone, +Well-painted idol, image dull and dead, +Statue contenting but the eye alone, +Thing like a man, but of no woman bred! + Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion, + For men will kiss even by their own direction." + +This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, +And swelling passion doth provoke a pause. +Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong. +Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause. + And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak, + And now her sobs do her intendments break. + +Sometimes she shakes her head, and then his hand. +Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground; +Sometimes her arms enfold him like a band. +She would, he will not in her arms be bound. + And when from thence he struggles to be gone, + She locks her lily fingers one in one. + +"Fondling," she saith, "since I have hemmed thee here +Within the circuit of this ivory pale, +I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer. +Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale; + Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, + Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. + +"Within this limit is relief enough, +Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain, +Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough, +To shelter thee from tempest and from rain. + Then be my deer, since I am such a park; + No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand bark." + +At this Adonis smiles as in disdain, +That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple; +Love made those hollows, if himself were slain, +He might be buried in a tomb so simple, + Foreknowing well if there he came to lie, + Why, there Love lived, and there he could not die. + +These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits, +Opened their mouths to swallow Venus' liking. +Being mad before, how doth she now for wits? +Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking? + Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn, + To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn! + +Now which way shall she turn? What shall she say? +Her words are done, her woes the more increasing; +The time is spent; her object will away +And from her twining arms doth urge releasing. + "Pity," she cries, "some favor, some remorse!" + Away he springs and hasteth to his horse. + +But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by, +A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud, +Adonis' trampling courser doth espy, +And forth she rushes, snorts, and neighs aloud. + The strong-necked steed, being tied unto a tree, + Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he. + +Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, +And now his woven girths he breaks asunder. +The bearing Earth with his hard hoof he wounds, +Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder. + The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth, + Controlling what he was controlled with. + +His ears up-pricked, his braided hanging mane +Upon his compassed crest now stand on end. +His nostrils drink the air, and forth again, +As from a furnace, vapors doth he send. + His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire, + Shows his hot courage and his high desire. + +Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps, +With gentle majesty and modest pride. +Anon he rears upright, curvets, and leaps, +As who should say, "Lo, thus my strength is tried, + And this I do to captivate the eye + Of the fair breeder that is standing by." + +What recketh he his rider's angry stir, +His flattering "Holla," or his "Stand, I say"? +What cares he now for curb or pricking spur, +For rich caparisons or trappings gay? + He sees his love, and nothing else he sees, + For nothing else with his proud sight agrees. + +Look when a painter would surpass the life +In limning out a well-proportioned steed, +His art with Nature's workmanship at strife, +As if the dead the living should exceed, + So did this horse excel a common one + In shape, in courage, color, pace, and bone. + +Round-hoofed, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, +Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide, +High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, +Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide-- + Look what a horse should have he did not lack, + Save a proud rider on so proud a back. + +Sometimes he scuds far off, and there he stares. +Anon he starts at stirring of a feather. +To bid the wind a base he now prepares, +And whe'er he run or fly, they know not whether, + For through his mane and tail the high wind sings, + Fanning the hairs, who wave like feathered wings. + +He looks upon his love and neighs unto her. +She answers him as if she knew his mind. +Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her, +She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind, + Spurns at his love, and scorns the heat he feels, + Beating his kind embracements with her heels. + +Then like a melancholy malcontent, +He vails his tail that like a falling plume +Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent. +He stamps and bites the poor flies in his fume. + His love, perceiving how he was enraged, + Grew kinder, and his fury was assuaged. + +His testy master goeth about to take him +When, lo, the unbacked breeder, full of fear, +Jealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake him, +With her the horse, and left Adonis there. + As they were mad unto the wood they hie them, + Outstripping crows that strive to overfly them. + +All swollen with chafing, down Adonis sits, +Banning his boisterous and unruly beast; +And now the happy season once more fits +That lovesick Love by pleading may be blessed; + For lovers say the heart hath treble wrong + When it is barred the aidance of the tongue. + +An oven that is stopped, or river stayed, +Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage; +So of concealed sorrow may be said, +Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage, + But when the heart's attorney once is mute, + The client breaks, as desperate in his suit. + +He sees her coming and begins to glow, +Even as a dying coal revives with wind, +And with his bonnet hides his angry brow, +Looks on the dull earth with disturbed mind, + Taking no notice that she is so nigh, + For all askance he holds her in his eye. + +O, what a sight it was wistly to view +How she came stealing to the wayward boy, +To note the fighting conflict of her hue, +How white and red each other did destroy! + But now her cheek was pale, and by and by + It flashed forth fire as lightning from the sky. + +Now was she just before him as he sat, +And like a lowly lover down she kneels. +With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat; +Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels. + His tend'rer cheek receives her soft hand's print + As apt as new-fall'n snow takes any dint. + +O, what a war of looks was then between them! +Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing, +His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them; +Her eyes wooed still, his eyes disdained the wooing; + And all this dumb play had his acts made plain + With tears which, choruslike, her eyes did rain. + +Full gently now she takes him by the hand, +A lily prisoned in a jail of snow, +Or ivory in an alabaster band, +So white a friend engirts so white a foe. + This beauteous combat, willful and unwilling, + Showed like two silver doves that sit a-billing. + +Once more the engine of her thoughts began: +"O, fairest mover on this mortal round, +Would thou wert as I am and I a man, +My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound! + For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, + Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee." + +"Give me my hand," saith he. "Why dost thou feel it?" +"Give me my heart," saith she, "and thou shalt have it. +O, give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it, +And being steeled, soft sighs can never grave it. + Then love's deep groans I never shall regard + Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard." + +"For shame," he cries, "let go, and let me go. +My day's delight is past, my horse is gone, +And 'tis your fault I am bereft him so. +I pray you hence, and leave me here alone, + For all my mind, my thought, my busy care, + Is how to get my palfrey from the mare." + +Thus she replies: "Thy palfrey, as he should, +Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire. +Affection is a coal that must be cooled; +Else, suffered, it will set the heart on fire. + The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none; + Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone. + +"How like a jade he stood tied to the tree, +Servilely mastered with a leathern rein; +But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee, +He held such petty bondage in disdain, + Throwing the base thong from his bending crest, + Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast. + +"Who sees his truelove in her naked bed, +Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white, +But when his glutton eye so full hath fed, +His other agents aim at like delight? + Who is so faint that dares not be so bold + To touch the fire, the weather being cold? + +"Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy, +And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee, +To take advantage on presented joy; +Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee. + O, learn to love; the lesson is but plain + And, once made perfect, never lost again." + +"I know not love," quoth he, "nor will not know it, +Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it. +'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it. +My love to love is love but to disgrace it, + For I have heard it is a life in death + That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath. + +"Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished? +Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth? +If springing things be any jot diminished, +They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth. + The colt that's backed and burdened being young + Loseth his pride and never waxeth strong. + +"You hurt my hand with wringing. Let us part, +And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat. +Remove your siege from my unyielding heart; +To love's alarms it will not ope the gate. + Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flatt'ry, + For where a heart is hard, they make no batt'ry." + +"What, canst thou talk?" quoth she. "Hast thou a tongue? +O, would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing! +Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong; +I had my load before, now pressed with bearing: + Melodious discord, heavenly tune harsh sounding, + Ears' deep sweet music, and heart's deep sore wounding. + +"Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love +That inward beauty and invisible. +Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move +Each part in me that were but sensible. + Though neither eyes, nor ears, to hear nor see, + Yet should I be in love by touching thee. + +"Say that the sense of feeling were bereft me, +And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, +And nothing but the very smell were left me, +Yet would my love to thee be still as much, + For from the stillatory of thy face excelling + Comes breath perfumed that breedeth love by smelling. + +"But, O, what banquet wert thou to the taste, +Being nurse and feeder of the other four! +Would they not wish the feast might ever last, +And bid Suspicion double-lock the door, + Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest, + Should by his stealing in disturb the feast?" + +Once more the ruby-colored portal opened, +Which to his speech did honey passage yield, +Like a red morn, that ever yet betokened +Wrack to the seaman, tempest to the field, + Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds, + Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds. + +This ill presage advisedly she marketh. +Even as the wind is hushed before it raineth, +Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh, +Or as the berry breaks before it staineth, + Or like the deadly bullet of a gun, + His meaning struck her ere his words begun. + +And at his look she flatly falleth down, +For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth; +A smile recures the wounding of a frown. +But blessed bankrout, that by love so thriveth! + The silly boy, believing she is dead, + Claps her pale cheek till clapping makes it red, + +And, all amazed, brake off his late intent; +For sharply he did think to reprehend her, +Which cunning Love did wittily prevent. +Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her! + For on the grass she lies as she were slain, + Till his breath breatheth life in her again. + +He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks, +He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, +He chafes her lips--a thousand ways he seeks +To mend the hurt that his unkindness marred. + He kisses her, and she, by her good will, + Will never rise, so he will kiss her still. + +The night of sorrow now is turned to day. +Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth +Like the fair sun when in his fresh array +He cheers the morn and all the earth relieveth; + And as the bright sun glorifies the sky, + So is her face illumined with her eye, + +Whose beams upon his hairless face are fixed +As if from thence they borrowed all their shine. +Were never four such lamps together mixed, +Had not his clouded with his brow's repine. + But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, + Shone like the moon in water seen by night. + +"O, where am I?" quoth she. "In earth or heaven, +Or in the ocean drenched, or in the fire? +What hour is this? Or morn or weary even? +Do I delight to die or life desire? + But now I lived, and life was death's annoy; + But now I died, and death was lively joy. + +"O, thou didst kill me; kill me once again. +Thy eyes' shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine, +Hath taught them scornful tricks and such disdain +That they have murdered this poor heart of mine, + And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen, + But for thy piteous lips no more had seen. + +"Long may they kiss each other for this cure! +O, never let their crimson liveries wear, +And, as they last, their verdure still endure +To drive infection from the dangerous year, + That the star-gazers, having writ on death, + May say the plague is banished by thy breath! + +"Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, +What bargains may I make, still to be sealing? +To sell myself I can be well contented, +So thou wilt buy, and pay, and use good dealing; + Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips, + Set thy seal manual on my wax-red lips. + +"A thousand kisses buys my heart from me, +And pay them at thy leisure, one by one. +What is ten hundred touches unto thee? +Are they not quickly told and quickly gone? + Say for non-payment that the debt should double, + Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?" + +"Fair queen," quoth he, "if any love you owe me, +Measure my strangeness with my unripe years. +Before I know myself, seek not to know me. +No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears. + The mellow plum doth fall; the green sticks fast + Or, being early plucked, is sour to taste. + +"Look the world's comforter with weary gait +His day's hot task hath ended in the west. +The owl, night's herald, shrieks; 'tis very late. +The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest, + And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light + Do summon us to part and bid good night. + +"Now let me say goodnight, and so say you. +If you will say so, you shall have a kiss." +"Good night," quoth she, and ere he says "Adieu," +The honey fee of parting tendered is. + Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace; + Incorporate then they seem; face grows to face, + +Till, breathless, he disjoined and backward drew +The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth, +Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew, +Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drouth. + He with her plenty pressed, she faint with dearth, + Their lips together glued, fall to the earth. + +Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey, +And gluttonlike she feeds yet never filleth. +Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey, +Paying what ransom the insulter willeth, + Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high + That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry. + +And having felt the sweetness of the spoil, +With blindfold fury she begins to forage. +Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil, +And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage, + Planting oblivion, beating reason back, + Forgetting shame's pure blush and honor's wrack. + +Hot, faint, and weary with her hard embracing, +Like a wild bird being tamed with too much handling, +Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tired with chasing, +Or like the froward infant stilled with dandling, + He now obeys and now no more resisteth, + While she takes all she can, not all she listeth. + +What wax so frozen but dissolves with temp'ring +And yields at last to every light impression? +Things out of hope are compassed oft with vent'ring, +Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission. + Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward + But then woos best when most his choice is froward. + +When he did frown, O, had she then gave over, +Such nectar from his lips she had not sucked. +Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover. +What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis plucked. + Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, + Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last. + +For pity now she can no more detain him. +The poor fool prays her that he may depart. +She is resolved no longer to restrain him, +Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart, + The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest, + He carries thence encaged in his breast. + +"Sweet boy," she says, "this night I'll waste in sorrow, +For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. +Tell me, Love's master, shall we meet tomorrow? +Say, shall we, shall we? Wilt thou make the match?" + He tells her no, tomorrow he intends + To hunt the boar with certain of his friends. + +"The boar!" quoth she, whereat a sudden pale, +Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose, +Usurps her cheek. She trembles at his tale, +And on his neck her yoking arms she throws. + She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck; + He on her belly falls, she on her back. + +Now is she in the very lists of love, +Her champion mounted for the hot encounter. +All is imaginary she doth prove; +He will not manage her, although he mount her, + That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy, + To clip Elysium and to lack her joy. + +Even so poor birds, deceived with painted grapes, +Do surfeit by the eye, and pine the maw; +Even so she languisheth in her mishaps +As those poor birds that helpless berries saw. + The warm effects which she in him finds missing + She seeks to kindle with continual kissing. + +But all in vain; good queen, it will not be. +She hath assayed as much as may be proved. +Her pleading hath deserved a greater fee. +She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not loved. + "Fie, fie," he says, "you crush me. Let me go. + You have no reason to withhold me so." + +"Thou hadst been gone," quoth she, "sweet boy, ere this, +But that thou toldst me thou wouldst hunt the boar. +O, be advised! Thou know'st not what it is +With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, + Whose tushes, never sheathed, he whetteth still + Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill. + +"On his bow-back he hath a battle set +Of bristly pikes that ever threat his foes. +His eyes like glowworms shine when he doth fret. +His snout digs sepulchers where'er he goes. + Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way, + And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay. + +"His brawny sides, with hairy bristles armed, +Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter. +His short thick neck cannot be easily harmed. +Being ireful, on the lion he will venter. + The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, + As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes. + +"Alas, he naught esteems that face of thine, +To which Love's eyes pays tributary gazes, +Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne, +Whose full perfection all the world amazes; + But having thee at vantage--wondrous dread!-- + Would root these beauties as he roots the mead. + +"O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still! +Beauty hath naught to do with such foul fiends. +Come not within his danger by thy will. +They that thrive well take counsel of their friends. + When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble, + I feared thy fortune, and my joints did tremble. + +"Didst thou not mark my face? Was it not white? +Sawest thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye? +Grew I not faint, and fell I not downright? +Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie, + My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest, + But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast. + +"For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy +Doth call himself Affection's sentinel, +Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny, +And in a peaceful hour doth cry "Kill, kill!" + Distemp'ring gentle Love in his desire + As air and water do abate the fire. + +"This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy, +This canker that eats up Love's tender spring, +This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy, +That sometimes true news, sometimes false doth bring, + Knocks at my heart and whispers in mine ear + That if I love thee, I thy death should fear; + +"And more than so, presenteth to mine eye +The picture of an angry chafing boar, +Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie +An image like thyself, all stained with gore, + Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed + Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head. + +"What should I do, seeing thee so indeed, +That tremble at th' imagination? +The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed, +And fear doth teach it divination. + I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow, + If thou encounter with the boar tomorrow. + +"But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruled by me. +Uncouple at the timorous flying hare, +Or at the fox, which lives by subtlety, +Or at the roe, which no encounter dare. + Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs, + And on thy well-breathed horse keep with thy hounds, + +"And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, +Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles +How he outruns the wind and with what care +He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles. + The many musets through the which he goes + Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes. + +"Sometimes he runs among a flock of sheep +To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell, +And sometimes where earth-delving conies keep +To stop the loud pursuers in their yell, + And sometimes sorteth with a herd of deer. + Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear. + +"For there his smell with others being mingled, +The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, +Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled +With much ado the cold fault cleanly out. + Then do they spend their mouths; echo replies + As if another chase were in the skies. + +"By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, +Stands on his hinder legs with list'ning ear +To hearken if his foes pursue him still. +Anon their loud alarums he doth hear, + And now his grief may be compared well + To one sore sick that hears the passing bell. + +"Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch +Turn and return, indenting with the way. +Each envious brier his weary legs do scratch; +Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay, + For misery is trodden on by many + And, being low, never relieved by any. + +"Lie quietly, and hear a little more. +Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise. +To make thee hate the hunting of the boar, +Unlike myself thou hear'st me moralize, + Applying this to that, and so to so, + For love can comment upon every woe. + +"Where did I leave?" "No matter where," quoth he; +"Leave me, and then the story aptly ends. +The night is spent." "Why, what of that?" quoth she. +"I am," quoth he, "expected of my friends, + And now 'tis dark, and going I shall fall." + "In night," quoth she, "desire sees best of all. + +"But if thou fall, O, then imagine this: +The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips, +And all is but to rob thee of a kiss. +Rich preys make true men thieves; so do thy lips + Make modest Dian cloudy and forlorn, + Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn. + +"Now of this dark night I perceive the reason: +Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine +Till forging Nature be condemned of treason +For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine, + Wherein she framed thee, in high heaven's despite, + To shame the sun by day and her by night. + +"And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies +To cross the curious workmanship of Nature, +To mingle beauty with infirmities, +And pure perfection with impure defeature, + Making it subject to the tyranny + Of mad mischances and much misery, + +"As burning fevers, agues pale and faint, +Life-poisoning pestilence and frenzies wood, +The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint +Disorder breeds by heating of the blood; + Surfeits, impostumes, grief, and damned despair + Swear Nature's death for framing thee so fair. + +"And not the least of all these maladies +But in one minute's fight brings beauty under. +Both favor, savor, hew, and qualities, +Whereat th' impartial gazer late did wonder, + Are on the sudden wasted, thawed, and done, + As mountain snow melts with the midday sun. + +"Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity, +Love-lacking vestals and self-loving nuns, +That on the Earth would breed a scarcity +And barren dearth of daughters and of sons, + Be prodigal. The lamp that burns by night + Dries up his oil to lend the world his light. + +"What is thy body but a swallowing grave +Seeming to bury that posterity +Which by the rights of time thou needs must have +If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity? + If so, the world will hold thee in disdain + Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain. + +"So in thyself thyself art made away, +A mischief worse than civil homebred strife, +Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay, +Or butcher sire that reaves his son of life. + Foul cank'ring rust the hidden treasure frets, + But gold that's put to use more gold begets." + +"Nay, then," quoth Adon, "you will fall again +Into your idle over-handled theme. +The kiss I gave you is bestowed in vain, +And all in vain you strive against the stream, + For, by this black-faced night, desire's foul nurse, + Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse. + +"If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues, +And every tongue more moving than your own, +Bewitching like the wanton mermaids' songs, +Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown; + For know my heart stands armed in mine ear + And will not let a false sound enter there, + +"Lest the deceiving harmony should run +Into the quiet closure of my breast, +And then my little heart were quite undone, +In his bed-chamber to be barred of rest. + No, lady, no, my heart longs not to groan + But soundly sleeps while now it sleeps alone. + +"What have you urged that I cannot reprove? +The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger. +I hate not love, but your device in love, +That lends embracements unto every stranger. + You do it for increase. O strange excuse, + When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse! + +"Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled +Since sweating Lust on Earth usurped his name, +Under whose simple semblance he hath fed +Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame, + Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves, + As caterpillars do the tender leaves. + +"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, +But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. +Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; +Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. + Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies. + Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies. + +"More I could tell, but more I dare not say; +The text is old, the orator too green. +Therefore in sadness now I will away. +My face is full of shame, my heart of teen. + Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended, + Do burn themselves for having so offended." + +With this he breaketh from the sweet embrace +Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast +And homeward through the dark laund runs apace, +Leaves Love upon her back deeply distressed. + Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky, + So glides he in the night from Venus' eye, + +Which after him she darts, as one on shore +Gazing upon a late-embarked friend +Till the wild waves will have him seen no more, +Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend; + So did the merciless and pitchy night + Fold in the object that did feed her sight; + +Whereat amazed, as one that unaware +Hath dropped a precious jewel in the flood, +Or stonished, as night wand'rers often are, +Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood, + Even so confounded in the dark she lay, + Having lost the fair discovery of her way. + +And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans, +That all the neighbor caves, as seeming troubled, +Make verbal repetition of her moans. +Passion on passion deeply is redoubled. + "Ay me!" she cries, and twenty times, "Woe, woe!" + And twenty echoes twenty times cry so. + +She marking them begins a wailing note +And sings extemporally a woeful ditty +How love makes young men thrall and old men dote, +How love is wise in folly, foolish witty. + Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, + And still the choir of echoes answer so. + +Her song was tedious and outwore the night, +For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short. +If pleased themselves, others they think delight +In suchlike circumstance with suchlike sport. + Their copious stories, oftentimes begun, + End without audience and are never done. + +For who hath she to spend the night withal +But idle sounds resembling parasits, +Like shrill-tongued tapsters answering every call, +Soothing the humor of fantastic wits? + She says, "'Tis so," they answer all, "'Tis so," + And would say after her if she said "No." + +Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, +From his moist cabinet mounts up on high +And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast +The sun ariseth in his majesty, + Who doth the world so gloriously behold + That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold. + +Venus salutes him with this fair good morrow: +"O thou clear god and patron of all light, +From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow +The beauteous influence that makes him bright, + There lives a son that sucked an earthly mother + May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other." + +This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove, +Musing the morning is so much o'erworn, +And yet she hears no tidings of her love; +She hearkens for his hounds and for his horn. + Anon she hears them chant it lustily, + And all in haste she coasteth to the cry. + +And as she runs, the bushes in the way +Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face, +Some twined about her thigh to make her stay. +She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace, + Like a milch doe whose swelling dugs do ache, + Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake. + +By this she hears the hounds are at a bay, +Whereat she starts like one that spies an adder +Wreathed up in fatal folds just in his way, +The fear whereof doth make him shake and shudder; + Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds + Appalls her senses and her spirit confounds. + +For now she knows it is no gentle chase, +But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud, +Because the cry remaineth in one place, +Where fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud. + Finding their enemy to be so curst, + They all strain court'sy who shall cope him first. + +This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear, +Through which it enters to surprise her heart, +Who, overcome by doubt and bloodless fear, +With cold-pale weakness numbs each feeling part. + Like soldiers when their captain once doth yield, + They basely fly and dare not stay the field. + +Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy, +Till, cheering up her senses all dismayed, +She tells them 'tis a causeless fantasy +And childish error that they are afraid, + Bids them leave quaking, bids them fear no more-- + And with that word she spied the hunted boar, + +Whose frothy mouth bepainted all with red, +Like milk and blood being mingled both together, +A second fear through all her sinews spread, +Which madly hurries her she knows not whither; + This way she runs, and now she will no further + But back retires to rate the boar for murder. + +A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways; +She treads the path that she untreads again; +Her more than haste is mated with delays, +Like the proceedings of a drunken brain, + Full of respects, yet naught at all respecting, + In hand with all things, naught at all effecting. + +Here kenneled in a brake she finds a hound +And asks the weary caitiff for his master, +And there another licking of his wound, +'Gainst venomed sores the only sovereign plaster, + And here she meets another, sadly scowling, + To whom she speaks, and he replies with howling. + +When he hath ceased his ill-resounding noise, +Another flapmouthed mourner, black and grim, +Against the welkin volleys out his voice; +Another and another answer him, + Clapping their proud tails to the ground below, + Shaking their scratched ears, bleeding as they go. + +Look how the world's poor people are amazed +At apparitions, signs, and prodigies, +Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed, +Infusing them with dreadful prophecies; + So she at these sad signs draws up her breath + And, sighing it again, exclaims on Death. + +"Hard-favored tyrant, ugly, meager, lean, +Hateful divorce of love!"--thus chides she Death-- +"Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean +To stifle beauty and to steal his breath, + Who, when he lived, his breath and beauty set + Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet? + +"If he be dead--O no, it cannot be, +Seeing his beauty, thou shouldst strike at it! +O yes, it may; thou hast no eyes to see, +But hatefully at random dost thou hit. + Thy mark is feeble age, but thy false dart + Mistakes that aim and cleaves an infant's heart. + +"Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke, +And hearing him, thy power had lost his power. +The Destinies will curse thee for this stroke; +They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluck'st a flower. + Love's golden arrow at him should have fled, + And not Death's ebon dart to strike him dead. + +"Dost thou drink tears, that thou provok'st such weeping? +What may a heavy groan advantage thee? +Why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping +Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see? + Now Nature cares not for thy mortal vigor + Since her best work is ruined with thy rigor." + +Here overcome as one full of despair, +She vailed her eyelids, who, like sluices, stopped +The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair +In the sweet channel of her bosom dropped; + But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain, + And with his strong course opens them again. + +O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow! +Her eye seen in the tears, tears in her eye, +Both crystals, where they viewed each other's sorrow, +Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry; + But, like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, + Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again. + +Variable passions throng her constant woe +As striving who should best become her grief; +All entertained, each passion labors so +That every present sorrow seemeth chief, + But none is best; then join they all together + Like many clouds consulting for foul weather. + +By this, far off she hears some huntsman hallow; +A nurse's song ne'er pleased her babe so well. +The dire imagination she did follow +This sound of hope doth labor to expel, + For now reviving joy bids her rejoice + And flatters her it is Adonis' voice, + +Whereat her tears began to turn their tide, +Being prisoned in her eye like pearls in glass, +Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside, +Which her cheek melts as scorning it should pass + To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground, + Who is but drunken when she seemeth drowned. + +O hard-believing Love, how strange it seems +Not to believe and yet too credulous! +Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes. +Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous: + The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely; + In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly. + +Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought; +Adonis lives, and Death is not to blame; +It was not she that called him all to naught; +Now she adds honors to his hateful name. + She clepes him king of graves and grave for kings, + Imperious supreme of all mortal things. + +"No, no," quoth she, "sweet Death, I did but jest. +Yet pardon me, I felt a kind of fear +Whenas I met the boar, that bloody beast, +Which knows no pity but is still severe. + Then, gentle shadow--truth I must confess-- + I railed on thee, fearing my love's decease. + +"'Tis not my fault; the boar provoked my tongue. +Be wreaked on him, invisible commander. +'Tis he, foul creature, that hath done thee wrong; +I did but act, he's author of thy slander. + Grief hath two tongues, and never woman yet + Could rule them both without ten women's wit." + +Thus hoping that Adonis is alive, +Her rash suspect she doth extenuate, +And that his beauty may the better thrive, +With Death she humbly doth insinuate, + Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories, + His victories, his triumphs, and his glories. + +"O Jove," quoth she, "how much a fool was I +To be of such a weak and silly mind +To wail his death who lives and must not die +Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind! + For, he being dead, with him is beauty slain, + And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again. + +"Fie, fie, fond Love, thou art as full of fear +As one with treasure laden, hemmed with thieves; +Trifles unwitnessed with eye or ear +Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves." + Even at this word she hears a merry horn, + Whereat she leaps, that was but late forlorn. + +As falcons to the lure, away she flies-- +The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light-- +And in her haste unfortunately spies +The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight, + Which seen, her eyes, as murdered with the view, + Like stars ashamed of day, themselves withdrew; + +Or as the snail, whose tender horns being hit, +Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain +And there, all smothered up, in shade doth sit, +Long after fearing to creep forth again; + So at his bloody view her eyes are fled + Into the deep-dark cabins of her head, + +Where they resign their office and their light +To the disposing of her troubled brain, +Who bids them still consort with ugly night +And never wound the heart with looks again-- + Who, like a king perplexed in his throne, + By their suggestion gives a deadly groan, + +Whereat each tributary subject quakes, +As when the wind imprisoned in the ground, +Struggling for passage, Earth's foundation shakes, +Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound. + This mutiny each part doth so surprise + That from their dark beds once more leap her eyes + +And, being opened, threw unwilling light +Upon the wide wound that the boar had trenched +In his soft flank, whose wonted lily white +With purple tears, that his wound wept, had drenched. + No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed, + But stole his blood and seemed with him to bleed. + +This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth. +Over one shoulder doth she hang her head. +Dumbly she passions, frantically she doteth. +She thinks he could not die, he is not dead. + Her voice is stopped, her joints forget to bow, + Her eyes are mad that they have wept till now. + +Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly +That her sight, dazzling, makes the wound seem three, +And then she reprehends her mangling eye, +That makes more gashes where no breach should be. + His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled, + For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled. + +"My tongue cannot express my grief for one +And yet," quoth she, "behold two Adons dead. +My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone; +Mine eyes are turned to fire, my heart to lead. + Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' red fire! + So shall I die by drops of hot desire. + +"Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost! +What face remains alive that's worth the viewing? +Whose tongue is music now? What canst thou boast +Of things long since, or anything ensuing? + The flowers are sweet, their colors fresh and trim, + But true sweet beauty lived and died with him. + +"Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear; +Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you. +Having no fair to lose, you need not fear; +The sun doth scorn you, and the wind doth hiss you. + But when Adonis lived, sun and sharp air + Lurked like two thieves to rob him of his fair. + +"And therefore would he put his bonnet on, +Under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep; +The wind would blow it off and, being gone, +Play with his locks. Then would Adonis weep; + And straight in pity of his tender years, + They both would strive who first should dry his tears. + +"To see his face the lion walked along +Behind some hedge because he would not fear him. +To recreate himself when he hath song, +The tiger would be tame and gently hear him. + If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey + And never fright the silly lamb that day. + +"When he beheld his shadow in the brook, +The fishes spread on it their golden gills. +When he was by, the birds such pleasure took +That some would sing, some other in their bills + Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries; + He fed them with his sight, they him with berries. + +"But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar, +Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave, +Ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore; +Witness the entertainment that he gave. + If he did see his face, why then I know + He thought to kiss him and hath killed him so. + +"'Tis true, 'tis true. Thus was Adonis slain: +He ran upon the boar with his sharp spear, +Who did not whet his teeth at him again, +But by a kiss thought to persuade him there, + And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine + Sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin. + +"Had I been toothed like him, I must confess, +With kissing him I should have killed him first, +But he is dead, and never did he bless +My youth with his. The more am I accursed!" + With this, she falleth in the place she stood + And stains her face with his congealed blood. + +She looks upon his lips, and they are pale. +She takes him by the hand, and that is cold. +She whispers in his ears a heavy tale +As if they heard the woeful words she told. + She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes, + Where, lo, two lamps, burnt out, in darkness lies. + +Two glasses, where herself herself beheld +A thousand times, and now no more reflect, +Their virtue lost, wherein they late excelled, +And every beauty robbed of his effect. + "Wonder of time," quoth she, "this is my spite, + That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light. + +"Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy +Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend; +It shall be waited on with jealousy, +Find sweet beginning but unsavory end, + Ne'er settled equally, but high or low, + That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe. + +"It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud, +Bud and be blasted in a breathing while, +The bottom poison and the top o'erstrawed +With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile; + The strongest body shall it make most weak, + Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak. + +"It shall be sparing and, too, full of riot, +Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures; +The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, +Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures. + It shall be raging mad and silly mild, + Make the young old, the old become a child. + +"It shall suspect where is no cause of fear; +It shall not fear where it should most mistrust. +It shall be merciful and, too, severe, +And most deceiving when it seems most just. + Perverse it shall be where it shows most toward, + Put fear to valor, courage to the coward. + +"It shall be cause of war and dire events, +And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire; +Subject and servile to all discontents, +As dry combustious matter is to fire. + Sith in his prime Death doth my love destroy, + They that love best their loves shall not enjoy." + +By this the boy that by her side lay killed +Was melted like a vapor from her sight, +And in his blood that on the ground lay spilled +A purple flower sprung up, checkered with white, + Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood + Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood. + +She bows her head the new-sprung flower to smell, +Comparing it to her Adonis' breath, +And says within her bosom it shall dwell, +Since he himself is reft from her by death. + She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears + Green-dropping sap, which she compares to tears. + +"Poor flower," quoth she, "this was thy father's guise-- +Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire-- +For every little grief to wet his eyes; +To grow unto himself was his desire, + And so 'tis thine, but know it is as good + To wither in my breast as in his blood. + +"Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast; +Thou art the next of blood, and 'tis thy right. +Lo, in this hollow cradle take thy rest; +My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night. + There shall not be one minute in an hour + Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower." + +Thus, weary of the world, away she hies +And yokes her silver doves, by whose swift aid +Their mistress mounted through the empty skies +In her light chariot quickly is conveyed, + Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen + Means to immure herself and not be seen. + +FINIS diff --git a/lib/markov.go b/lib/markov.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cab4ca --- /dev/null +++ b/lib/markov.go @@ -0,0 +1,262 @@ +package lib + +import ( + "math/rand" + "regexp" + "strings" + "time" +) + +type MarkovData struct { + Order int + Chain map[string][]string // "word1 ... wordN" -> ["word3", ...] + Starts []string +} + +var ( + urlRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`https?://[^\s]+`) + mentionRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`<[@#&!][^>]+>`) + bracketRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`\[.*?\]`) + speakerRegex = regexp.MustCompile(`^(?:[A-Z]{2,}\s+)+`) + stopWords = map[string]bool{ + "the": true, "and": true, "a": true, "to": true, "of": true, + "in": true, "is": true, "that": true, "it": true, "for": true, + "as": true, "with": true, "on": true, "at": true, "by": true, + "this": true, "from": true, "but": true, "or": true, "an": true, + "be": true, "are": true, "was": true, "were": true, "so": true, + "if": true, "out": true, "up": true, "about": true, "into": true, + "over": true, "after": true, "beneath": true, "under": true, + "above": true, "me": true, "my": true, "mine": true, "you": true, + "your": true, "yours": true, "he": true, "him": true, "his": true, + "she": true, "her": true, "hers": true, "they": true, "them": true, + "their": true, "theirs": true, "we": true, "us": true, "our": true, + "ours": true, "who": true, "whom": true, "whose": true, "what": true, + "which": true, "when": true, "where": true, "why": true, "how": true, + "give": true, "write": true, "tell": true, "say": true, "speak": true, + "make": true, "do": true, "does": true, "did": true, "done": true, + } +) + +func init() { + rand.Seed(time.Now().UnixNano()) +} + +func CleanText(text string) string { + text = urlRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") + text = mentionRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") + text = bracketRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") + text = strings.TrimSpace(text) + text = speakerRegex.ReplaceAllString(text, "") + return strings.Join(strings.Fields(text), " ") +} + +func BuildMarkovChain(lines []string, order int) *MarkovData { + data := &MarkovData{ + Order: order, + Chain: make(map[string][]string), + Starts: make([]string, 0), + } + + var allWords []string + + for _, line := range lines { + // Skip likely headers/metadata (all caps lines) + trimmed := strings.TrimSpace(line) + if trimmed != "" && strings.ToUpper(trimmed) == trimmed && strings.ToLower(trimmed) != trimmed { + continue + } + + cleaned := CleanText(line) + if cleaned == "" { + continue + } + + allWords = append(allWords, strings.Fields(cleaned)...) + } + + if len(allWords) < order+1 { + return data + } + + // First key is always a start + data.Starts = append(data.Starts, Key(allWords[:order]...)) + + for i := 0; i < len(allWords)-order; i++ { + keyWords := allWords[i : i+order] + nextWord := allWords[i+order] + + k := Key(keyWords...) + data.Chain[k] = append(data.Chain[k], nextWord) + + // If the word shifting out ends a sentence, the next sequence is a start + if strings.ContainsAny(allWords[i], ".!?") { + if i+1+order <= len(allWords) { + data.Starts = append(data.Starts, Key(allWords[i+1:i+1+order]...)) + } + } + } + + return data +} + +func GenerateMessage(data *MarkovData, seed string) string { + if len(data.Starts) == 0 { + return "" + } + + var currentKey string + + // Try to seed based on input question + if seed != "" { + seedWords := strings.Fields(CleanText(seed)) + + // Sort seed words: significant words first, then by length + for i := 0; i < len(seedWords); i++ { + for j := i + 1; j < len(seedWords); j++ { + sw1 := strings.ToLower(seedWords[i]) + sw2 := strings.ToLower(seedWords[j]) + isStop1 := stopWords[sw1] + isStop2 := stopWords[sw2] + + // If one is a stop word and the other isn't, prioritize the non-stop word + if isStop1 && !isStop2 { + seedWords[i], seedWords[j] = seedWords[j], seedWords[i] + } else if !isStop1 && isStop2 { + continue + } else { + // Otherwise sort by length + if len(seedWords[i]) < len(seedWords[j]) { + seedWords[i], seedWords[j] = seedWords[j], seedWords[i] + } + } + } + } + + var candidates []string + + // 1. Try to find a sentence starter + // We iterate seed words first to prioritize matches for longer words + for _, sw := range seedWords { + if len(sw) <= 2 { + continue + } + swLower := strings.ToLower(sw) + var primaryMatches []string // starts with word + + for _, startKey := range data.Starts { + parts := strings.Fields(strings.ToLower(startKey)) + if len(parts) < data.Order { + continue + } + if parts[0] == swLower { + primaryMatches = append(primaryMatches, startKey) + } + } + + // If we found sentence starters beginning with this word, use them exclusively + if len(primaryMatches) > 0 { + candidates = primaryMatches + break + } + } + + // 2. If no perfect starts, try any start containing the word + if len(candidates) == 0 { + for _, sw := range seedWords { + if len(sw) <= 2 { + continue + } + swLower := strings.ToLower(sw) + + for _, startKey := range data.Starts { + parts := strings.Fields(strings.ToLower(startKey)) + if len(parts) < data.Order { + continue + } + // Check remaining words in key + found := false + for i := 1; i < len(parts); i++ { + if parts[i] == swLower { + found = true + break + } + } + if found { + candidates = append(candidates, startKey) + } + } + if len(candidates) > 0 { + break + } + } + } + + // 3. If no starts, try to find any connection in the chain + if len(candidates) == 0 { + for _, sw := range seedWords { + if len(sw) <= 2 { + continue + } + swLower := strings.ToLower(sw) + var matches []string + + for k := range data.Chain { + parts := strings.Fields(strings.ToLower(k)) + if len(parts) < data.Order { + continue + } + if parts[0] == swLower { + matches = append(matches, k) + } + } + + if len(matches) > 0 { + candidates = matches + break + } + } + } + + if len(candidates) > 0 { + currentKey = candidates[rand.Intn(len(candidates))] + } + } + + if currentKey == "" { + currentKey = data.Starts[rand.Intn(len(data.Starts))] + } + + output := strings.Fields(currentKey) + + for i := 0; i < 40; i++ { + nextOptions, exists := data.Chain[currentKey] + if !exists || len(nextOptions) == 0 { + break + } + + nextWord := nextOptions[rand.Intn(len(nextOptions))] + output = append(output, nextWord) + + // Shift the key window + currentWords := strings.Fields(currentKey) + if len(currentWords) >= 1 { + newKeyWords := append(currentWords[1:], nextWord) + currentKey = Key(newKeyWords...) + } else { + break + } + + // Soft stop on punctuation + if i > 5 && strings.ContainsAny(nextWord, ".!?") { + if rand.Float32() > 0.3 { + break + } + } + } + + return strings.Join(output, " ") +} + +func Key(words ...string) string { + return strings.Join(words, " ") +} diff --git a/main.go b/main.go index ea63dae..511b029 100644 --- a/main.go +++ b/main.go @@ -29,6 +29,10 @@ func main() { initCommands(config) initCommandHandlers(config) + if err := command.InitBard("datasets/bard.gob"); err != nil { + log.Printf("Failed to load Bard dataset: %v", err) + } + err := lib.InitDB() if err != nil { log.Fatalf("Failed to initialize database: %v", err) @@ -191,13 +195,13 @@ func initCommands(config *lib.Config) { }, }, { - Name: "gen", - Description: "Generate a random message using markov chains based on channel history", + Name: "bard", + Description: "Ask the bard a question", Options: []*discordgo.ApplicationCommandOption{ { - Type: discordgo.ApplicationCommandOptionInteger, - Name: "messages", - Description: fmt.Sprintf("Number of messages to use (default: %d, max: %d)", config.MarkovDefaultMessages, config.MarkovMaxMessages), + Type: discordgo.ApplicationCommandOptionString, + Name: "question", + Description: "The question you want to ask", Required: false, }, }, @@ -255,7 +259,7 @@ func initCommandHandlers(config *lib.Config) { commandHandlers = map[string]func(s *discordgo.Session, i *discordgo.InteractionCreate){ "ping": lib.HandleCommand("ping", time.Duration(config.PingCooldown)*time.Second, command.PingCommand), "hs": lib.HandleCommand("hs", time.Duration(config.HsCooldown)*time.Second, command.HsCommand), - "gen": lib.HandleCommand("gen", time.Duration(config.MarkovCooldown)*time.Second, command.MarkovCommand), + "bard": lib.HandleCommand("bard", time.Duration(config.MarkovCooldown)*time.Second, command.BardCommand), "ask": lib.HandleCommand("ask", time.Duration(config.MarkovAskCooldown)*time.Second, command.MarkovQuestionCommand), "himbucks": lib.HandleCommand("himbucks", time.Duration(config.HimbucksCooldown)*time.Second, command.BalanceGetCommand), "himboard": lib.HandleCommand("himboard", time.Duration(config.HimboardCooldown)*time.Second, command.LeaderboardCommand),